keeps her foots on de chalk line dey mark out dey ain' projeckin'
how her min' go yere en dar, zigerty-zag wid notions ob her own."

The door darkened, if the radiant girl standing on the threshold
could be said to darken any door. She did not represent the ordinary
Southern type, for her hair was gold in the sun and her eyes blue as
the violets by the brook. They were full of mirth now as she said:
"There you are, Aun' Jinkey, smoking and 'projeckin' as usual. You
look like an old Voudoo woman, and if I didn't know you as my old
mammy--if I should just happen in as a stranger, I'd be afraid of
you."

"Voudoo ooman! How you talks, Miss Lou! I'se a member ob de Baptis'
Church, en you knows it."

"Oh, I know a heap 'mo'n dat,' as you so often say. If you were only
a member of the Baptist Church I wouldn't be running in to see you
so often. Uncle says a member of the Baptist Church has been
stealing some of his chickens."

"I knows some tings 'bout de members ob HE church," replied Aun'
Jinkey, with a toss of her head.

"I reckon you do, more than they would like to see published in the
county paper; but we aren't scandal-mongers, are we, Aun' Jinkey?"
and the young visitor sat down in the doorway and looked across the
green meadow seen through the opening in the trees. A dogwood stood
in the corner of the rail fence, the pink and white of its blossoms
well matching the girl's fair face and her rose-dotted calico gown,
which, in its severe simplicity, revealed her rounded outlines.