“Dey wuz all ’piscopaliuns, boss, es I wuz sayin’, an’ dey bleeved tarible in Good Friday; an’ ev’ry Friday wuz Good Friday wid dem when it come to eatin’. When I seed my chickens all gwine an’ de pigs an’ sich, I got so disgusted wid dese Good Fridays dat I wanted to be a jay-bird fur a while so I cud git off to hell ebry Friday myse’f! Frum dat dey begin to rub it in to me ’bout baptism an’ so forth an’ dat didn’t tend to make me change in de resolushuns I had fixed up. I went on fixin’ my plans an’ layin’ low, meek as Moses outwardly but inwardly full of wrath. “By dis time dey gin to ax in all de bredderin of de chu’ch to he’p ’em eat an’ settin’ up by moonlight wid ’em a holdin’ han’s an’ prayin’. Now, boss, de hefty one nurver mixed up in dese small things—she wuz layin’ fur bigger game. She seed de sod-muthers wuz managin’ it all right an’ as she knowed she owned dem an’ Sally an’ dey all owned me, why she let it res’ at dat. “Sides dat, as I sed, she wuz a han’sum ’oman! “I let it run on till de time whut dey call Ash We’nesday come, when dey all had a feast an’ special prayers fur de souls of all who had died frum de beginnin’ of de worl’ till den,—or sumpin’ nurr like it. I had already spent all my money an’ dey had ordered lumber fur a new house, ’sides orgernizin’ a society to build de nigger preacher in town a rookery. Dey called it a pay supper—an’ I did all de payin’! It wuz all to cum off de night of Ash We’nesday. “Now dat Ash biziness sot me to thinkin’. Here wuz my home turned into a karnival of noise an’ carousin’ an’ drinkin’ an’ hoodoo’in’, an’ me payin’ fur it. “‘Wal,’ sez I to myse’f, ‘I’ll jes’ turn dis thing into a Ash We’nesday sho’ nuff, so I goes out an’ cuts down a ash tree an’ makes me a good, lithe stick dat would knock a bull down, an’ den bounce back into yo’ han’s. Dat wuz fur de bredderin. Den I broke up a good ash-bar’l an’ made de paddles handy fur de sisterin, an’ I sot ’em in de corner behin’ de cup’ard. “De night cum, but by dat time dey didn’t keer enuff fur me to ax me into de feast. I wuz jes’ a common ole Baptis’ nigger. I waited till dey wuz all dar, de sod-muthers in white apruns, candles burnin’ an’ dude niggers an’ niggeresses frum town and ev’ry whar, all s’posin’ to be payin’ fur a thing dat finally cum outen my pocket. I walked in an’ sot down by de fire, but befo’ I got sot good, one of dem dude niggers put a insultment on me. “Dat suit me all right. I didn’t want to start de fight in my own house—dat wa’n’t good manners—but soon es dat nigger put de insultment on me, I wuz reddy. “‘Frien’s, sez I, ‘I am a plain ole Baptis’ nigger, but es I onderstan’ it, dis am Ash We’nesday.’ “‘You bet it am, ole Moses,’ sez one of de dudes, ‘an’ it ain’t a good place fur Baptists to eat—dey am liabul to hab de collect!’ “I didn’t see de p’int, but dey did, an’ all laf’d.