"I s'pose not," said Maria—"wid Miss Daisy's name on it."
"Who will come, Maria?"
"Laws, chile, dere's heaps. Dere's Darry, and Pete—Pete, he say de meetin' de oder night war 'bout de best meetin' he eber 'tended; he wouldn't miss it for not'ing in de world; he's sure; and dere's ole 'Lize; and de two Jems—no, dere's tree Jems dat is ser'ous; and Stark, and Carl, and Sharlim——"
"Sharlim?" said I, not knowing that this was the Caffir for Charlemagne.
"Sharlim," Maria repeated. "He don' know much; but he has a leanin' for de good t'ings. And Darry, he can tell who'll come. I done forget all de folks' names."
"Why, Maria," I said, "I did not know there were so many people at Magnolia that cared about the Bible."
"What has 'um to care for, chile, I should like fur to know? Dere ain't much mo' in dis world."
"But I thought there were only very few," I said.
"'Spose um fifty," said Maria. "Fifty ain't much, I reckon, when dere's all de rest o' de folks what don't care. De Lord's people is a little people yet, for sure; and de world's a big place. When de Lord come Hisself, to look for 'em, 'spect He have to look mighty hard. De world's awful dark."
That brought to my mind my question. It was odd, no doubt, to choose an old coloured woman for my adviser, but indeed, I