Sistus, brudders an’ chillun: You will fine meh tex’ in de forty-fus’ chaptah ub Job, an’ uh part ub de twenty-fus’ vus: “His bref kinleth coals.”
Fus’ly, meh discose ter-day will be ’boutin strange things.
Da is some people in dis congation, ’tickerly Little Billy, dat kyant ondastan’ why we don’ no mo’ erboutin witches, an’ ghoses. De fac’ is, sence de witch cummittee went inter Haylan’ Branch, saw uh ghose er sperrit—an’ dey sut’ny saw one er de udda—da has bin too much witch talk in dis congation. Fuh instinct, what diffunc’ do hit meck ef’n hit de same sort, er not de same sort, ub witches dat Saul talk erboutin when he say, “Thou shal’ not suffah uh witch ter lib.” Mo’n dat, he cud ’ford ter talk dat way, fars ez he cud run.
De Bible say, “Saul an’ Jonithan wuz swiftah dan eagles.”
Secon’ly, Meh belubbed sistus, da is some things you nebba kin fine out, stranger dan witches an’ mo’ ’structive dan witches er jack-uh-ma-lanterns.
Thudly, Dis lubly oak pulpit Mars Nickey had built full us wuz once uh acorn—think ub dat; an’ you may keep on thinkin’, but you kyant ondastan’ it.
Fo’fly, Miss Henrietta cum in de chuch yistiddy an’ look ’roun’ while I wuz sweepin’. She say: “Reubin, Chris’mus I gwine ter gib de chuch uh melojin.” She had in huh bres’ fo’ er five little wiolets, an’ dey jes’ fill de chuch full ub deah sweetness—dunno tho’, kase I specks some ub de sweetness wuz fum huh bref, kase hit’s jes’ like uh lam’s.
Now, den, what cud be mo’ strange dan de odah fum uh little wiolet? Hit cums peepin’ up in de early spring, den hit buds an’ blooms, an’ uh bed ub dem wiolets is ez sweet ez dat hyarp ub uh thousan’ strings dat little Dabid played ’pon. What’s in de groun’ ’ceppin’ de wumms ter gib dat wiolet odah? Mars Nickey say dat wumms sweeten de uth an’ meck holes futto let de air in. You kin smell de wiolet, but you kyant kerry dat odah ’way wid you; but uh jewdrap kin cum ’long erboutin sundown, drap on dat flowah, res’ uh little while, an’ what’s de consequation? Why, dat little jewdrap will ’sorb ernuff ub dat odah ter meck yo’ hankcheah smell sweet fuh uh hole Sunday, an’ you kin teck hit outin yo’ pocket ev’y five minutes, ef’n you wan’ter.
What’s witches er ghoses ’long side de mistification ub uh jewdrap? Why, de action ub young chickens is mo’ curisome ter me dan witches. Ef’n uh chicken is only two days ole, and not strong ernuff ter git on he ma’s back, an’ uh wile tukkey, er wile goose, er buzzard cum sailin’ ’long, hit don’ pesterfy de ole hen er any ub huh chicks. Dey keep on playin’ wid dere toes an’ tryin’ ter pick up ebery little trem’lin’ sunbeam dat’s playin’ wid de grass; but jes’ let uh little sparrow-hawk, er any kind ub hawk cum ’long, you’ll see dat ole hen renounce hit ter huh chicks quick ez you kin wink yo’ eye. Den you kin look an’ look, but you kyant fine one ub dem little chickens ter sabe yo’ life.
Now, why is dat? Hits da in-sence; dat is, de sence dat’s in ’em.