A revival was being held at a small colored Baptist church in southern Georgia. At one of the meetings the evangelist, after an earnest but fruitless exhortation, requested all of the congregation who wanted their souls washed white as snow to stand up. One old darky remained sitting.
"Don' yo' want y' soul washed w'ite as snow, Brudder Jones?"
"Mah soul done been washed w'ite as snow, pahson."
"Whah wuz yo' soul washed w'ite as snow, Brudder Jones?"
"Over yander to the Methodis' chu'ch acrost de railroad."
"Brudder Jones, yo' soul wa'n't washed—hit were dry-cleaned."—Life.
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