I reckon it was mighty disrespec’ful o’ me to face him that-a-way, an’ him adorned in all his robes, too, but I’m thess a plain up-an’-down man an’ I hadn’t went for him to come an’ baptize Sonny to uphold the granjer of no church.  I was ready to do that when the time come, but right now we was workin’ in Sonny’s interests, an’ I intended to have it understood that way.  An’ it was.

Rector, he’s a mighty good, kind-hearted man, git down to the man inside the preacher, an’ when he see thess how things stood, why, he come ‘round friendly, an’ he went out on the po’ch an’ united with us in tryin’ to help coax Sonny down.  First started by promisin’ him speritual benefits, but he soon see that wasn’t no go, and he tried worldly persuasion; but no, sir, stid o’ him comin’ down, Sonny started orderin’ the rest of us christened thess the way he done about the vaccination.  But, of co’se, we had been baptized befo’, an’ we nachelly helt out agin’ that for some time.  But d’rec’ly rector, he seemed to have a sudden idee, an’ says he, facin’ ‘round, church-like, to wife an’ me, says he: 

“Have you both been baptized accordin’ to the rites o’ the church?”

An’ me, thinkin’ of co’se he meant the ’Piscopal Church, says:  “No, sir,” says I, thess so.  And then we see that the way was open for us to be did over ag’in ef we wanted to.  So, sir, wife an’ me we was took into the church, then an’ there.  We wouldn’t a yielded to him, thoo an’ thoo, that-a-way ag’in ef his little foot hadn’t a’ been so swole, an’ he maybe takin’ his death o’ cold settin’ out in the po’in’-down rain; but things bein’ as they was, we went thoo it with all due respects.

Then he commenced callin’ for Dicey, an’ the dog, an’ the cat, to be did, same ez he done befo’; but, of co’se, they’s some liberties thet even a innocent child can’t take with the waters o’ baptism, an’ the rector he got sort o’ wo’e-out and disgusted an’ ’lowed thet ’less’n we could get the child ready for baptism he’d haf to go home.

Well, sir, I knowed we wouldn’t never git ‘im down, an’ I had went for the rector to baptize him, an’ I intended to have it did, ef possible.  So, says I, turnin’ ‘round an’ facin’ him square, says I:  “Rector,” says I, “why not baptize him where he is?  I mean it.  The waters o’ Heaven are descendin’ upon him where he sets, an’ seems to me ef he’s favo’bly situated for anything it is for baptism.”  Well, parson, he thess looked at me up an’ down for a minute, like ez ef he s’picioned I was wanderin’ in my mind, but he didn’t faze me.  I thess kep’ up my argiment.  Says I:  “Parson,” says I, speakin’ thess ez ca’m ez I am this minute—­“Parson,” says I, “his little foot is mighty swole, an’ so’e, an’ that splinter—­thess s’pose he was to take the lockjaw an’ die—­don’t you reckon you might do it where he sets—­from where you stand?”

Wife, she was cryin’ by this time, an’ parson, he claired his th’oat an’ coughed, an’ then he commenced walkin’ up an’ down, an’ treckly he stopped, an’ says he, speakin’ mighty reverential an’ serious: