"Now see yere, Miss Lou, isn't you onreason'ble? You hab a good
home; mars'r en miss monstus pius, en dey bringin' you up in de
nurter en 'monitions ob de Lawd." "Too much 'monition, Aun' Jinkey.
Uncle and aunt's religion makes me so tired, and they make Sunday so
awfully long. Their religion reminds me of the lavender and camphor
in which they keep their Sunday clothes. And then the pages of the
catechism they have always made me learn, and the long Psalms, too,
for punishment! I don't understand religion, anyway. It seems
something meant to uphold all their views, and anything contrary to
their views isn't right or religious. They don't think much of you
Baptists."

"We ain' sufrin' on dat 'count, chile," remarked Aun' Jinkey, dryly.

"There now, Aun' Jinkey, don't you see? Uncle owns you, yet you
think for yourself and have a religion of your own. If he knew I was
thinking for myself, he'd invoke the memory of all the Barons
against me. I don't know very much about the former Barons, except
that my father was one. According to what I am told, the girl Barons
were the primmest creatures I ever heard of. Then uncle and aunt are
so inconsistent, holding up as they do for my admiration Cousin Mad
Whately. I don't wonder people shorten his name from Madison to Mad,
for if ever there was a wild, reckless fellow, he is. Uncle wants to
bring about a match, because Mad's plantation joins ours. Mad acted
as if he owned me already when he was home last, and yet he knows I
can't abide him. He seems to think I can be subdued like one of his
skittish horses."

"You HAB got a heap on yo' min", Miss Lou, you sho'ly hab. You