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Alabama - No Lawd I ain't ready 4

"but he don't b'long here no more en you does, he jes' roams about
caze he ain't got no place ter stay at, en he's sorter franzy-minded
too. He can't do nothin' much 'cept chop a little wood now en den."

A straight mulatto girl came up the path carrying a battered oil
can and a small bundle of broom straw. "Here's the kerosene, ma," she
said to Hester. " Mr. Charlie say fill up de lamp 'fore he get here,
but he say he specks ter be late caze he gwine to de chicken fight
over in Green."

Encouraged by this I decided to find out more if possible about
this patheric old Negro. "Doan take dat green broom straw in de house,
Rose," said Hester. "De fros' ain't fell on hit yet en I'se done had
'nough bad luck 'thout that. Us can make de broom outside, I reckon.
Don't reckon Mr. Charlie give you no money did he, Rose?" asked Hester.
The girl untied the corner of a large smudged handkerchief and displayed
a twenty-five cent piece. "This all he gimme for de church supper." I
recalled the Negro church that I had passed in the woods near the big
road. [[ I had also noticed the barbecue pits and a number of Negroes busy
nailing up long rough tables. In fact I had been directed to the Johnson
place from there. Here at last was the open door. Hester would talk
of religion, I felt sure.]]

So I asked if she were a member of Good Hope Church, and if
she was going to the supper with Rose. If she had heard some bad news
she could not have looked more bleak. She sat motionless for a few
seconds, then slowly raised her head, and looking at at me but far
beyond said:

"No'm I ain't goin' to no church wid nobody. I ain't j'ined no
church, caze I ain't never had no b'lief an'no 'sperience, and you
can't jine 'thout you is got 'ligion. Hit's too late now I reckon.
I used ter want ter jine, but Mr. Charlie say 'ligion wuz jes' a pack

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