Oh, den, lis'en at de
message dis ebenin'.
"'Dey young men shall die by de s'ord.'
"An' den, ergin, dar dem famines, my bredren, takin' in de sistren--
dem famines come plum fum Egypt! dey turnt 'em erloose dar one time,
mun, an' de Book sez all de lan' wuz sore, an' thousan's pun top er
thousan's wuz slaint.
"Dey ain't no way fur ter git roun' dem famines. Yer may hide, yer may
run in de swamps, yer may climb de trees, but, bredren, efn eber dem
famines git atter yer, yer gone! dey'll cotch yer! dey's nuffin like
'em on de face uv de yearth, les'n hit's de s'ord; dar ain't much
chice twix dem two. Wen hit comes ter s'ords an' famines, I tell yer,
gemmun, hit's nip an' tuck. Yit de message, hit sez, 'dey young men
shall die by de s'ord, an' dey sons an' dey daughters by de famine.'
"Now, bredren an' sistren, an' monahs an' sinners, don't le's force de
Lord fur ter drive us; le's try fur ter sarve him, an' fur ter git
erlong doutn de s'ords an de famines. Come up hyear roun' dis altar,
an' wrestle fur 'ligion, an' dem few uv us wat is godly-- me an' Brer
Snake-bit Rob an' Sis Haly an' Brer Gabe, an' Brer Lige an' Brer
One-eyed Pete, an' Sis Rachel (Mammy) an' Sis Hannah-- we're gwine put
in licks fur yer dis ebenin'. Oh, my frens, yer done hyeard de
message.
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