days after that we was the down-in-the-mouthest
crowd on that farm, man an' beast, thet you ever see. Ever' last one o'
them vaccinations took, sir, an' took severe, from the cat up.

But I reckon we 're all safe-t guarded now. They ain't nothin' on the
place thet can fetch it to Sonny, an' I trust, with care, he may never
be exposed.

But I set out to tell you about Sonny's christenin' an' us turnin'
'Piscopal. Ez I said, he never seemed to want baptism, though he had
heard us discuss all his life both it an' vaccination ez the two ordeels
to be gone thoo with some time, an' we'd speculate ez to whether
vaccination would take or not, an' all sech ez that, an' then, ez
I said, after he see what the vaccination was, why he was even mo'
prejudyced agin' baptism 'n ever, an' we 'lowed to let it run on tell
sech a time ez he'd decide what name he'd want to take an' what
denomination he'd want to bestow it on him.

Wife, she's got some 'Piscopal relations thet she sort o' looks up
to,--though she don't own it,--but she was raised Methodist an' I was
raised a true-blue Presbyterian. But when we professed after Sonny come
we went up together at Methodist meetin'. What we was after was
righteous livin', an' we didn't keer much which denomination helped us
to it.

An' so, feelin' friendly all roun' that-a-way, we thought we'd leave
Sonny to pick his church when he got ready, an' then they wouldn't be
nothin' to undo or do over in case he went over to the 'Piscopals, which
has the name of revisin' over any other church's performances--though
sence we've turned 'Piscopals we've found out that ain't so.

Of co'se the preachers, they used to talk to us about it once-t in a
while,--seemed to think it ought to be did,--'ceptin', of co'se, the
Baptists.

Well, sir, it went along so till last week. Sonny ain't but, ez I said,
thess not quite six year old, an' they seemed to be time enough. But
last week he had been playin' out o' doors bare-feeted, thess same ez he
always does, an' he tramped on a pine splinter some way. Of co'se, pine,
it's the safe-t-est splinter a person can run into a foot, on account
of its carryin' its own turpentine in with it to heal up things; but
any splinter thet dast to push itself up into a little pink foot is a
messenger of trouble, an' we know it. An' so, when we see this one, we
tried ever' way to coax him to let us take it out, but he wouldn't, of
co'se. He never will, an' somehow the Lord seems