“But ’bout de courses uv de sun, I have got dat. I hev dun rang’d thru de whole blessed book an’ scode down de las’ thing de Bible has ter say ’bout de movements uv de sun. I got all dat pat an’ safe. An’ lemme say dat if I doan’t giv it ter you straight, if I gits one word crooked or wrong, you jes’ holler out, ‘Hol’ on dar, Jasper, yer ain’t got dat straight,’ an’ I’ll beg pardon. If I doan’t tell de truf, march up on dese steps here an’ tell me I’z a liar, an’ I’ll take it. I fears I do lie sometimes—I’m so sinful, I find it hard ter do right; but my Gord doan’t lie an’ He ain’ put no lie in de Book uv eternal truf, an’ if I giv you wat de Bible say, den I boun’ ter tell de truf.
“I got ter take yer all dis arternoon on er skershun ter a great bat’l feil’. Mos’ folks like ter see fights—some is mighty fon’ er gittin’ inter fights, an’ some is mighty quick ter run down de back alley when dar is a bat’l goin’ on, fer de right. Dis time I’ll ’scort yer ter a scene whar you shall witness a curus bat’l. It tuk place soon arter Isrel got in de Promus Lan’. Yer ’member de people uv Gibyun mak frens wid Gord’s people when dey fust entered Canum an’ dey wuz monsus smart ter do it. But, jes’ de same, it got ’em in ter an orful fuss. De cities roun’ ’bout dar flar’d up at dat, an’ dey all jined dere forces and say dey gwine ter mop de Gibyun people orf uv de groun’, an’ dey bunched all dar armies tergedder an’ went up fer ter do it. Wen dey kum up so bol’ an’ brave de Giby’nites wuz skeer’d out’n dere senses, an’ dey saunt word ter Joshwer dat dey wuz in troubl’ an’ he mus’ run up dar an’ git ’em out. Joshwer had de heart uv a lion an’ he wuz up dar d’reckly. Dey had an orful fight, sharp an’ bitter, but yer might know dat Ginr’l Joshwer wuz not up dar ter git whip’t. He prayed an’ he fought, an’ de hours got erway too peart fer him, an’ so he ask’d de Lord ter issure a speshul ordur dat de sun hol’ up erwhile an’ dat de moon furnish plenty uv moonshine down on de lowes’ part uv de fightin’ groun’s. As a fac’, Joshwer wuz so drunk wid de bat’l, so thursty fer de blood uv de en’mies uv de Lord, an’ so wild wid de vict’ry dat he tell de sun ter stan’ still tel he cud finish his job. Wat did de sun do? Did he glar down in fi’ry wrath an’ say, ’ What you talkin’ ’bout my stoppin’ for, Joshwer; I ain’t navur startid yit. Bin here all de time, an’ it wud smash up ev’rything if I wuz ter start’? Naw, he ain’ say dat. But wat de Bible say? Dat’s wat I ax ter know. It say dat it wuz at de voice uv Joshwer dat it stopped. I don’ say it stopt; tain’t fer Jasper ter say dat, but de Bible, de Book uv Gord, say so. But I say dis; nuthin’ kin stop untel it hez fust startid. So I knows wat I’m talkin’ ’bout. De sun wuz travlin’ long dar thru de sky wen de order come. He hitched his red ponies and made quite a call on de lan’ uv Gibyun. He purch up dar in de skies jes’ as frenly as a naibur whar comes ter borrer sumthin’, an’ he stan’ up dar an’ he look lak he enjoyed de way Joshwer waxes dem wicked armies. An’ de moon, she wait down in de low groun’s dar, an’ pours out her light and look jes’ as ca’m an’ happy as if she wuz waitin’ fer her ’scort. Dey nevur budg’d, neither uv ’em, long as de Lord’s army needed er light to kerry on de bat’l.
“I doan’t read when it wuz dat Joshwer hitch up an’ drove on, but I ’spose it wuz when de Lord tol’ him ter go. Ennybody knows dat de sun didn’ stay dar all de time. It stopt fur bizniz, an’ went on when it got thru. Dis is ’bout all dat I has ter do wid dis perticl’r case. I dun show’d yer dat dis part uv de Lord’s word teaches yer dat de sun stopt, which show dat he wuz movin’ befo’ dat, an’ dat he went on art’rwuds. I toll yer dat I wud prove dis an’ I’s dun it, an’ I derfies ennybody to say dat my p’int ain’t made.
“I tol’ yer in de fust part uv dis discose dat de Lord Gord is a man uv war. I ’spec by now yer begin ter see it is so. Doan’t yer admit it? When de Lord cum ter see Joshwer in de day uv his feers an’ warfar, an’ actu’ly mek de sun stop stone still in de heavuns, so de fight kin rage on tel all de foes is slain, yer bleeged ter und’rstan’ dat de Gord uv peace is also de man uv war. He kin use bofe peace an’ war ter hep de reichus, an’ ter scattur de host uv de ailyuns. A man talked ter me las’ week ’bout de laws uv nature, an’ he say dey carn’t poss’bly be upsot, an’ I had ter laugh right in his face. As if de laws uv ennythin’ wuz greater dan my Gord who is de lawgiver fer ev’rything. My Lord is great; He rules in de heavuns, in de earth, an’ doun und’r de groun’. He is great, an’ greatly ter be praised. Let all de people bow doun an’ wurship befo’ Him!
“But let us git erlong, for dar is quite a big lot mo’ comin’ on. Let us take nex’ de case of Hezekier. He wuz one of dem kings of Juder—er mighty sorry lot I mus’ say dem kings wuz, fur de mos’ part. I inclines ter think Hezekier wuz ’bout de highes’ in de gin’ral avrig, an’ he war no mighty man hisse’f. Well, Hezekier he got sick. I dar say dat a king when he gits his crown an’ fin’ry off, an’ when he is posterated wid mortal sickness, he gits ’bout es commun lookin’ an’ grunts an’ rolls, an’ is ’bout es skeery as de res’ of us po’ mortals. We know dat Hezekier wuz in er low state uv min’; full uv fears, an’ in a tur’ble trub’le. De fac’ is, de Lord strip him uv all his glory an’ landed him in de dust. He tol’ him dat his hour had come, an’ dat he had bettur squar up his affaars, fur death wuz at de do’. Den it wuz dat de king fell low befo’ Gord; he turn his face ter de wall; he cry, he moan, he beg’d de Lord not ter take him out’n de worl’ yit. Oh, how good is our Gord! De cry uv de king moved his heart, an’ he tell him he gwine ter give him anudder show. Tain’t only de kings dat de Lord hears. De cry uv de pris’nur, de wail uv de bondsman, de tears uv de dyin’ robber, de prars uv de backslider, de sobs uv de womun dat wuz a sinner, mighty apt to tech de heart uv de Lord. It look lik it’s hard fer de sinner ter git so fur orf or so fur down in de pit dat his cry can’t reach de yere uv de mussiful Saviour.
“But de Lord do evun better den dis fur Hezekier—He tell him He gwine ter give him a sign by which he’d know dat what He sed wuz cummin’ ter pars. I ain’t erquainted wid dem sun diuls dat de Lord toll Hezekier ’bout, but ennybody dat hes got a grain uv sense knows dat dey wuz de clocks uv dem ole times an’ dey marked de travuls uv de sun by dem diuls. When, darfo’ Gord tol’ de king dat He wud mek de shadder go backwud, it mus’ hev bin jes’ lak puttin’ de han’s uv de clock back, but, mark yer, Izaer ’spressly say dat de sun return’d ten dergrees. Thar yer are! Ain’t dat de movement uv de sun? Bless my soul. Hezekier’s case beat Joshwer. Joshwer stop de sun, but heer de Lord mek de sun walk back ten dergrees; an’ yet dey say dat de sun stan’ stone still an’ nevur move er peg. It look ter me he move roun’ mighty brisk an’ is ready ter go ennyway dat de Lord ordurs him ter go. I wonder if enny uv dem furloserfers is roun’ here dis arternoon. I’d lik ter take a squar’ look at one uv dem an’ ax him to ’splain dis mattur. He carn’t do it, my bruthr’n. He knows a heap ’bout books, maps, figgers an’ long distunces, but I derfy him ter take up Hezekier’s case an’ ’splain it orf. He carn’t do it. De Word uv de Lord is my defense an’ bulwurk, an’ I fears not what men can say nor do; my Gord gives me de vict’ry.
“’Low me, my frens, ter put mysef squar’bout dis movement uv de sun. It ain’t no bizniss uv mine wedder de sun move or stan’ still, or wedder it stop or go back or rise or set. All dat is out er my han’s ’tirely, an’ I got nuthin’ ter say. I got no the-o-ry on de subjik. All I ax is dat we will take wat de Lord say ’bout it an’ let His will be dun ’bout ev’rything. Wat dat will is I karn’t know ’cept He whisper inter my soul or write it in a book. Here’s de Book. Dis is ’nough fer me, and wid it ter pilut me, I karn’t git fur erstray.
“But I ain’t dun wid yer yit. As de song says, dere’s mo’ ter foller. I envite yer ter heer de fust vers in de sev’nth chaptur uv de book uv Reverlashuns. What do John, und’r de pow’r uv de Spirit, say? He say he saw fo’ anguls standin’ on de fo’ corners uv de earth, holdin’ de fo’ win’s uv de earth, an’ so fo’th. ’Low me ter ax ef de earth is roun’, whar do it keep its corners? Er flat, squar thing has corners, but tell me where is de cornur uv er appul, ur a marbul, ur a cannun ball, ur a silver dollar. Ef dar is enny one uv dem furloserfurs whar’s been takin’ so many cracks at my ole haid ’bout here, he is korjully envited ter step for’d an’ squar up dis vexin’ bizniss. I here tell you dat yer karn’t squar a circul, but it looks lak dese great scolurs dun learn how ter circul de squar. Ef dey kin do it, let ’em step ter de front an’ do de trick. But, mer brutherin, in my po’ judgmint, dey karn’t do it; tain’t in ’em ter do it. Dey is on der wrong side of de Bible; dat’s on de outside uv de Bible, an’ dar’s whar de trubbul comes in wid ’em. Dey dun got out uv de bres’wuks uv de truf, an’ ez long ez dey stay dar de light uv de Lord will not shine on der path. I ain’t keer’n so much ’bout de sun, tho’ it’s mighty kunveenyunt ter hav it, but my trus’ is in de Word uv de Lord. Long ez my feet is flat on de solid rock, no man kin move me. I’se gittin’ my orders f’um de Gord of my salvashun.
“Tother day er man wid er hi coler and side whisk’rs cum ter my house. He was one nice North’rn gemman wat think a heap of us col’rd people in de Souf. Da ar luvly folks and I honours ’em very much. He seem from de start kinder strictly an’ cross wid me, and arter while, he brake out furi’us and frettid, an’ he say: ‘Erlow me Mister Jasper ter gib you sum plain advise. Dis nonsans ’bout de sun movin’ whar you ar gettin’ is disgracin’ yer race all ober de kuntry, an’ as a fren of yer peopul, I cum ter say it’s got ter stop.’ Ha! Ha! Ha! Mars’ Sam Hargrove nuvur hardly smash me dat way. It was equl to one ov dem ole overseurs way bac yondur. I tel him dat ef he’ll sho me I’se wrong, I giv it all up.
“My! My! Ha! Ha! He sail in on me an’ such er storm about science, nu ’scuv’ries, an’ de Lord only knos wat all, I ner hur befo’, an’ den he tel me my race is ergin me an’ po ole Jasper mus shet up ’is fule mouf.