Mom Beck put her handkerchief over her mouth, and a general smile went
around.

After that the child was very quiet until the time came to take the
collection. She always enjoyed this part of the service more than
anything else. Instead of passing baskets around, each person was
invited to come forward and lay his offering on the table.

Woolly heads wagged, and many feet kept time to the tune:

"Oh! I'se boun' to git to glory.
Hallelujah! Le' me go!"

The Little Colonel proudly marched up with Mom Beck's contribution,
and then watched the others pass down the aisle. One young girl in a
gorgeously trimmed dress paraded up to the table several times, singing
at the top of her voice.

"Look at that good-fo'-nothin' Lize Richa'ds," whispered Mom Beck's
nearest neighbour, with a sniff. "She done got a nickel changed into
pennies so she could ma'ch up an' show herself five times."

It was nearly sundown when they started home. A tall coloured man,
wearing a high silk hat and carrying a gold-headed cane, joined them on
the way out.

"Howdy, Sistah Po'tah," he said, gravely shaking hands. "That was a fine
disco'se we had the pleasuah of listenin' to this evenin'."