Louder seemed uneasy. It was evident that he feared a failure on the part of the worthy brother. At the end of the first line, he exclaimed:—
“’Pears to me, Brother Creek, you hain’t got the right miter.”
Brother Creek suspended operations a moment, and replied, “I am purty kerrect, ginerally, Brother Louder, an’ I’m confident she’ll come out all right!”
“Well,” said Louder, “we’ll try her agin,” and the choral strain, under the supervision of Brother Creek, was resumed in the following words:—
“When I was a mourner just like you,
Washed in the blood of the Lamb,
I fasted and prayed till I got through,
Washed in the blood of the Lamb.
Chorus.—“Come along, sinner, and go with us;
If you don’t you will be cussed.”
“Religion’s like a blooming rose,
Washed in the blood of the Lamb,
As none but those that feel it knows,
Washed in the blood of the Lamb.”—Cho.
The singing, joined in by all present, brought the enthusiasm of the assembly up to white heat, and the shouting, with the loud “Amen,” “God save the sinner,” “Sing it, brother, sing it,” made the welkin ring.