Aunt Maria had always been very religious, and the Bishop arose and shook her hand gravely. "Pow'ful glad to see you," said the old woman. "How's religion--Aunt Maria," he asked. "Mighty po'ly--mighty po'ly"--she sighed. "It looks lak the Cedars of Lebanon is dwarfed to the scrub pine. The old time religin' is passin' away, an' I'm all that's lef' of Zion." The Bishop smiled. "Yes, you see befo' you all that's lef' of Zion. I'se been longin' to see you an' have a talk with you--thinkin' maybe you cud he'p me out. You kno' me and you is Hard-shells." The Bishop nodded. "We 'blieves in repentince an' fallin' from grace, an' backslidin' an' all that," she went on. "Well, they've lopped them good ole things off one by one an' they don't 'bleeve in nothin' now but jes' jin'in'. They think jes' jin'in' fixes 'em--that it gives 'em a free pass into the pearly gates. So of all ole Zion Church up at the hill, sah, they've jes' jined an' jined around, fust one church an' then another, till of all the ole Zion Church that me an' you loved so much, they ain't none lef' but Parson Shadrack, the preacher, sister Tilly, an' me--We wus Zion." "Pow'ful bad, pow'ful bad," said the Bishop--"and you three made Zion." "We _wus_," said Aunt Maria, sadly--"but now there ain't but one lef'. _I'm Zion._ It's t'arrable, but it's true. As it wus in the days of Lot, so it is to-day in Sodom." "Why, how did that happen?" asked the Bishop. Aunt Maria's eyes kindled: "It's t'arrable, but it's true--last week Parson Shadrack deserts his own wife an' runs off with Sis Tilly. It looked lak he mouter tuck me, too, an' kept the fold together as Abraham did when he went into the Land of the Philistines. But thank God, if I am all that's lef', one thing is mighty consolin'--I can have a meetin' of Zion wherever I is. If I sets down in a cheer to meditate I sez to myself--'Be keerful, Maria, for the church is in session.' When I drink, it is communion--when I bathes, it is baptism, when I walks, I sez to myself: 'Keep a straight gait, Maria, you are carryin' the tabbernackle of all goodness.' Aunt Tilly got the preacher, but thank God, I got Zion." "But I mus' go. Come on, Lily," she said to the little girl,--"let ole Zion fix up yo' curls." She took her charge and curtsied out, and the Bishop knew she would die either for Zion or the little girl. The old man sat thinking--Helen had gone in and was practising a love song. "Ned," said the Bishop, "I tell you a man ain't altogether friendless when he's got in his home a creature as faithful as she is. She'd die for that child. That one ole faithful 'oman makes me feel like liftin' my hat to the whole nigger race. I tell you when I get to heaven an' fail to see ole Mammy settin' around the River of Life, I'll think somethin' is wrong." The Bishop was silent a while, and then he asked: "Ned, it can't be true that you are goin' to put them girls in the factory?"