Yer's a sinner comin' thu,
Crowd roun', bre'ren, sisters, too,
Sing wid all yo' might an' main,
He'p de sinner out er pain,
He's comin', comin' thu.
He bin "seekin'" dis long time,
He'p him cas' de foe behime,
Clap yo' han's an' sing an' shout,
He'p him cas' de debil out,
Le's wrassel him right thu.
Tu'rr side de Gate er Sin,
Year him kickin' ter git in,
Putt up prayers wid might an' main,
Dat he doesn' kick in vain,
Y'all kin pray him thu.
Heart a-bus'in' fer de right,
Debil hol'in' to him tight,
Year him swish dat forkéd tail,
See de sinner-man turn pale,
Come on an' he'p him thu.
Sinner hangin' 'bove de pit,
By a hya'r strotch over hit,
Debil hol' one eend an' shake,
Y'all kin see de sinner quake,
Quick, he'p dis man come thu.
Seize de ropes, now, ev'y man,
He'p de gospel ship ter lan',
One long pull an' one gre't shout,
Hallelu! We got him out,
De sinner done come thu!
AUNT DINAH'S KITCHEN
BY HARRIET BEECHER STOWE
Like a certain class of modern philosophers, Dinah perfectly scorned logic and reason in every shape, and always took refuge in intuitive certainty; and here she was perfectly impregnable. No possible amount of talent, or authority, or explanation could ever make her believe that any other way was better than her own, or that the course she had pursued in the smallest matter could be in the least modified. This had been a conceded point with her old mistress, Marie's mother; and "Miss Marie," as Dinah always called her young mistress, even after her marriage, found it easier to submit than contend; and so Dinah had ruled supreme. This was the easier, in that she was perfect mistress of that diplomatic art which unites the utmost subservience of manner with the utmost inflexibility as to measure.