"Will yo' dismiss yo' sehvant in ordeh dat we
kin hol' convehse an' communion in de midst er
privacy?"
The doctor, he nods to Sam, and Sam moseys
along toward the church.
"Now, then," says the doctor, sudden and sharp,
"take off your hat and tell me what you want."
The bishop's hand goes up to his head with a jerk
before he thought. Then it stops there, while him
and the doctor looks at each other. The bishop's
mouth opens like he was wondering, but he slowly
pulls his hat off and stands there bare-headed in the
road. But he wasn't really humble, that bishop.
"Now," says the doctor, "tell me in as straight
talk as you've got what all this damned foolishness
among you niggers means."
A queer kind of look passed over the bishop's
face. He hadn't expected to be met jest that way,
mebby. Whether he himself had really believed
in the coming of that there new Messiah he had been
perdicting, I never could settle in my mind. Mebby
he had been getting ready to pass HIMSELF off fur
one before we come along and the niggers all got
the fool idea Doctor Kirby was it. Before the
bishop spoke agin you could see his craziness and
his cunningness both working in his face. But
when he did speak he didn't quit being ceremonious
nor dignified.
"De wohd has gone fo'th among de faiful an'
de puah in heaht," he says, "dat er man has come
accredited wi' signs an' wi' mahvels an' de poweh
o' de sperrit fo' to lay his han' on de sons o' Ham
an' ter make 'em des de same in colluh as de yuther
sons of ea'th.
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