The grass might have been agreeable to look upon at a distance, but a close inspection showed it to be full of pismires; the stumps would have been commodious seats, if they had not been most of them previously appropriated by black-snakes; the sleeping places would have been tents, if they had not been huts, and a poetical fancy might have pictured them as being constructed of canvas, white as the driven snow, but the practical mind instantly discovered that they were made of oak slabs and dirty horse-blankets. Some imaginative people would have set down the speaking of the ministers as eloquence if not inspiration, but a critical individual would have found fault with the bad grammar, and insinuated that the inspiration was all perspiration.
At the north end of the ground, a big darkey in his shirt-sleeves was mounted on a platform, preaching to a crowd, who seemed, by their vermicular contortions, to be possessed of a legion of eely devils. On the west side, a fat wench was stirring up the fire under a big kettle of soup, seemingly composed principally of onions and ham; in a sly corner a red-shirt b'hoy was displaying the mysterious evolutions of the "little joker," and two small specimens of ebony juvenility were playing euchre on a basswood log; opposite to these, mounted on a cider barrel, a molasses-colored gentleman was going through a rather extraordinary performance; he had preached till his audience had all left him; then shouted "Hallelujah," and "Glory," till he was hoarse; had sung hymns in a spasmodic whisper till his voice gave entirely out, and now, in despair at being unable to speak, yet compelled to work off his superabundant religion, as if he were a locomotive with too big a head of steam on, he was dancing on one leg, and kicking the other about in a kind of perpetual pigeon-wing, and tossing his arms upwards in a wild and original manner, as if he was using his utmost endeavors to climb to heaven on an invisible tarred rope.
To the shouts of the men, and the screams of the women who had got too much religion, was added the laughter of the outsiders, who hadn't got enough religion, and the swearing of the gamblers, who hadn't got any religion; and to complete the harmony, from a neighboring pasture was wafted the roars of a herd of cattle, applauding, in their own peculiar manner, an extemporaneous bull-fight.
Mr. Dropper gave it as his opinion, that camp-meeting religion, if analyzed, would be found to consist of equal parts of rum, rowdyism, and insanity. As, however, it was deemed improper to decide without a complete examination of the premises, it was resolved to proceed in company to explore the place.
Quackenbush, who had resumed his nap on the grass, was roused, and after getting the grasshoppers out of his hair, the sand-flies out of his ears, and pulling off his boots to look for centipedes, he was declared ready for active duty, and they proceeded on their march.
They found in a side hut of more pretentious appearance than the rest, that there was something unusual going on, and upon inquiring, discovered that one of the fragrant flock having transgressed, he was then having his trial before the "session."
The party moved on to where the minister in his shirt-sleeves was edifying a small, but select, not to say noisy, congregation. The audience seemed to be affected much in the same manner as a strong shock of electricity will stir up a crowd of boys who have all got hold of the same wire. As there seemed to be a prospect of fun, the Elephants made a temporary halt to witness the same.
The sermon was now concluded, and the shirt-sleeve-man kneeled down on the platform and began to pray; he must have had no inconsiderable amount of similar exercise before, for the knees of his pantaloons were worn entirely through, and there was a large hole behind where he had sat upon his heels.
No sooner had he fairly commenced praying than some of the more energetic in the crowd began to groan; when he made a thorny point, and said something about the "arrow of conviction," some fat wench would sing out "Glory;" when he put in a touch about hell fire and other torrid climates, they would cry out "Yes, Lord." And when he put in an extra lick about repentance, and death, and damnation, and other pleasant luxuries, the whole crowd fairly screamed with excitement.
At length a powerful darkey, with a head like a cord of No. 1 curled hair, and with nothing on to hide his black anatomy but a pair of thin breeches and a blue shirt, began to give unequivocal manifestations of the workings of his faith; first he kicked a woman with his right leg, then he kicked a little boy with his left, then he punched one of the brethren in the stomach, then he stepped on the toes of a grey-haired class-leader, but, as both were barefooted, no harm was done; then he yelled like seven Indians, and howled like seven Irishmen, and danced about like a whole regiment of crazy Dutchmen. When he opened his mouth, the minister dodged the yawning chasm, and the man fell down and sprawled about in the mud, striking about with his arms and legs, as if he were swimming on a bet, and was only two minutes from the stake-boat. At last he ceased to move, and stiffened out as if he had suddenly swallowed a rifle-barrel, which stuck in his throat like Macbeth's amen. The damaged brethren gathered round; the sisters, after giving their injured shins a consoling rub, also came to the rescue, and the man was picked up. He was foaming at the mouth; his teeth were set together so that a fence-stake was required to pry them apart; his shirt was unbuttoned (his pantaloons had unbuttoned themselves); a pailful of water out of the nearest frog-pond was dashed in his face, and he soon so far recovered himself as to ask for corn whisky. All immediately sang, with a strong chorus, a thanksgiving hymn, that his soul was saved; though what connection there was between corn whisky and salvation puzzled the Elephantines some, if not more.