dat low live rascal. Give it to her, old man! Give it to her! She sho' deserves it!"
At length Isaac paused, and eyed her steadily while he shook his switch with unction.
"I axes ye now, does ye believe in de Sanctification er de Saints?"
"Yes, Lawd, I sees it now!" she cried with fervour.
"An' thanks me fer showin' ye de error er yo' way?"
"Yes, honey! I'm gwine ter seek dat Sanctification myself!"
"Glory! We'se er comin' on!"
Aunt Julie Ann picked up the flat-iron. Isaac eyed her with suspicion but he was too much elated with his victory to notice anything unusual in her manner.
"Ye b'lieves now in de Sanctification er de Lawd's messenger Isaac A. Postle?"
With a sudden flash of her eye Aunt Julie Ann hurled the flat-iron straight at the head of the Lord's messenger saying:
"No, I ain't sed dat yit!"
But Isaac was quick. He dodged in time. The corner of the flat-iron merely tipped his ear and smashed through the window.
He grabbed his ear with sudden pain and gripped his switch with renewed zeal.
