In Lighter Vein
In Lighter Vein
(AS RELATED BY HIMSELF)
BY RUTH McENERY STUART
WHEN I was a little pickanin’,Down on Sweet Gum plantation,I used to heah de preacher preach,An’ screech an’ screech an’ screech,Expoundin’ out salvation.He’d open up dat Bible-bookBefo’ de congregation,An’, sir, he’d read dem Scriptures out,An’ shout an’ shout an’ shout an’ shout,Widout no education.He nuver knowed ’is A, B, C’s,Much less pronunciation;But when he’d focus on a page,An’ rage an’ rage an’ rage an’ rage,Gord sont interpretation.He’d show de devil’s forkèd tailOut clair, in his noration;He’d h’ist dat pitchfork up on high,An’ cry an’ cry an’ cry an’ cry,An’ p’int insinuation,An’ I’d brace up an’ clench de pewAn’ try to hol’ my station,Whilst he’d light up de fumes o’ hell,An’ yell an’ yell an’ yell an’ yell,’Tel we could smell damnation!One day I swooned off in a tranch,F’om brimstone suffocation;An’ red-hot sins wid forkèd tailsRiz up wid wails an’ wails an’ wailsAn’ stopped my circulation!I felt jes’ lak a cushion o’ pinsBig as de whole creation;My tongue was swole too thick to speak,But de pins dey’d stick, an’ de sins dey’d shriek!’Tel I los’ all sinsation.******I come th’ough on de tranch-room flo’,Wid de mou’ners on probation;An’ when I heerd ’em screech an’ screech’Bout “a babe an’ sucklin’ called to preach!”—Dat was my ordination.
WHEN I was a little pickanin’,Down on Sweet Gum plantation,I used to heah de preacher preach,An’ screech an’ screech an’ screech,Expoundin’ out salvation.He’d open up dat Bible-bookBefo’ de congregation,An’, sir, he’d read dem Scriptures out,An’ shout an’ shout an’ shout an’ shout,Widout no education.He nuver knowed ’is A, B, C’s,Much less pronunciation;But when he’d focus on a page,An’ rage an’ rage an’ rage an’ rage,Gord sont interpretation.He’d show de devil’s forkèd tailOut clair, in his noration;He’d h’ist dat pitchfork up on high,An’ cry an’ cry an’ cry an’ cry,An’ p’int insinuation,An’ I’d brace up an’ clench de pewAn’ try to hol’ my station,Whilst he’d light up de fumes o’ hell,An’ yell an’ yell an’ yell an’ yell,’Tel we could smell damnation!One day I swooned off in a tranch,F’om brimstone suffocation;An’ red-hot sins wid forkèd tailsRiz up wid wails an’ wails an’ wailsAn’ stopped my circulation!I felt jes’ lak a cushion o’ pinsBig as de whole creation;My tongue was swole too thick to speak,But de pins dey’d stick, an’ de sins dey’d shriek!’Tel I los’ all sinsation.******I come th’ough on de tranch-room flo’,Wid de mou’ners on probation;An’ when I heerd ’em screech an’ screech’Bout “a babe an’ sucklin’ called to preach!”—Dat was my ordination.
WHEN I was a little pickanin’,Down on Sweet Gum plantation,I used to heah de preacher preach,An’ screech an’ screech an’ screech,Expoundin’ out salvation.
WHEN I was a little pickanin’,
Down on Sweet Gum plantation,
I used to heah de preacher preach,
An’ screech an’ screech an’ screech,
Expoundin’ out salvation.
He’d open up dat Bible-bookBefo’ de congregation,An’, sir, he’d read dem Scriptures out,An’ shout an’ shout an’ shout an’ shout,Widout no education.
He’d open up dat Bible-book
Befo’ de congregation,
An’, sir, he’d read dem Scriptures out,
An’ shout an’ shout an’ shout an’ shout,
Widout no education.
He nuver knowed ’is A, B, C’s,Much less pronunciation;But when he’d focus on a page,An’ rage an’ rage an’ rage an’ rage,Gord sont interpretation.
He nuver knowed ’is A, B, C’s,
Much less pronunciation;
But when he’d focus on a page,
An’ rage an’ rage an’ rage an’ rage,
Gord sont interpretation.
He’d show de devil’s forkèd tailOut clair, in his noration;He’d h’ist dat pitchfork up on high,An’ cry an’ cry an’ cry an’ cry,An’ p’int insinuation,
He’d show de devil’s forkèd tail
Out clair, in his noration;
He’d h’ist dat pitchfork up on high,
An’ cry an’ cry an’ cry an’ cry,
An’ p’int insinuation,
An’ I’d brace up an’ clench de pewAn’ try to hol’ my station,Whilst he’d light up de fumes o’ hell,An’ yell an’ yell an’ yell an’ yell,’Tel we could smell damnation!
An’ I’d brace up an’ clench de pew
An’ try to hol’ my station,
Whilst he’d light up de fumes o’ hell,
An’ yell an’ yell an’ yell an’ yell,
’Tel we could smell damnation!
One day I swooned off in a tranch,F’om brimstone suffocation;An’ red-hot sins wid forkèd tailsRiz up wid wails an’ wails an’ wailsAn’ stopped my circulation!
One day I swooned off in a tranch,
F’om brimstone suffocation;
An’ red-hot sins wid forkèd tails
Riz up wid wails an’ wails an’ wails
An’ stopped my circulation!
I felt jes’ lak a cushion o’ pinsBig as de whole creation;My tongue was swole too thick to speak,But de pins dey’d stick, an’ de sins dey’d shriek!’Tel I los’ all sinsation.
I felt jes’ lak a cushion o’ pins
Big as de whole creation;
My tongue was swole too thick to speak,
But de pins dey’d stick, an’ de sins dey’d shriek!
’Tel I los’ all sinsation.
******
******
I come th’ough on de tranch-room flo’,Wid de mou’ners on probation;An’ when I heerd ’em screech an’ screech’Bout “a babe an’ sucklin’ called to preach!”—Dat was my ordination.
I come th’ough on de tranch-room flo’,
Wid de mou’ners on probation;
An’ when I heerd ’em screech an’ screech
’Bout “a babe an’ sucklin’ called to preach!”—
Dat was my ordination.