The negro's countenance assumed a look indicative of more than his
lips dare speak. Looking upward pensively, he replied,--"Can't do
dat, mas'r; he ain't what do God justice; but there is something in
de text,--where shall I take 'em from?"

"Ministers should choose their own; I always do," interrupted Deacon
Rosebrook.

Daddy Bob, touching Harry on the arm, looks up innocently,
interposes his knowledge of Scripture. "D'ar, Harry, I tells you
what text to gin 'em. Gin 'em dat one from de fourt' chapter of
Ephes: dat one whar de Lor' say:--'Great mas'r led captivity captive,
and gin gifts unto men.' And whar he say, 'Till we come unto a unity
of the faith of the knowledge of the son of God unto a perfect man,
unto the measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ; that we be
no more children tossed to and fro, and carried about with every
wind of doctrine, by the slight of men, and cunning craftiness,
whereby they lay in wait to deceive.'"

"And you tink dat 'll do,--eh, Daddy?" Harry replies, looking at the
old man, as if to say, were he anything but a slave he would follow
the advice.

"Den, dars t' oder one, away 'long yonder, where 'e say in Isaiah,
fifty-eight chapter--'Wherefore have we fasted, say they, and thou
seest not? Wherefore have we afflicted our soul, and thou takest no
knowledge? Behold ye fast for strife and debate, and to smite with
the fist of wickedness." The old man seemed perfectly at home on
matters of Scripture; he had studied it in stolen moments.