The daily intelligencer. [volume] (Seattle, Wash. Territory [i.e. Wash.]) 1876-1881, 1877-09-17
THAT was q Preacher for You"
BY DAN DEQCrLLE.

81 tell yer, fellers," said OLD Gurnsey,
squaring himself for big talk, once
he found be was going to have things
his own way; Il tell yer. f., lrrs, | s'ter
know preacher what ulster ride on
what they call a circle, over in Calefor-
ny. in '52, a. was named Olympus
Jump, an he was roarer, you kin jist
bet.
He wasn't one of yer stuck-up. kid
gloved kind. as would be afraid they'd
dirty their hands by givin' the flpper
Of a miner n grip. NJ; he'd take hold
Of yer paw like wolftrap.
"Be wasn't one Of them kind as goes
prospecting about. with nosss 10 the
air. a-smelIin' r'ast chicken an hot bis
bits afar OF Not at all, He was a
God-fearin' man, an pork nm beans was
the highest ambition of his meek an
lOwly bowels
Olympus wasn't one CT yer kyoters
il sleeps clothin. what goes sneaking
about among the ewes Of the flock.
making more Beecher scandals in one
week than yer could wash out in six
months by piping inter 'em with the
biggist hydraulic in the mountains. No;
that wasn't his style He Walked up
rightly before the Lord, AL wa. happy
a. the day was long, with his own
comley little wife an half dozen little
jumps.
HE wasn't one Of yer high eddics'ed
Tose-water. butter moutbed sort, Oiym-
pns wasn't. He ha the gift material,
right from the Lord, au' when lie IN
button cd his SHIRT collar aud h~gan to
talk in dead earnest II made fellar
think Of = string at bouid,r> thunder
ing down a ground sluice under a ing
head of water
"Olympus Jump wasn't one Of these
new tangled sort Of preachers what
stand up before yer Sunday after San.
day never shown up the color Of the
Word o God nor givin' you siugle
mouthful of the bread of life Not a
BIT Of IL He'd drifted ard crevic-d
all through the Bible, pannin' out
bushels of .hispas and scores and scor,
of great nuggets OF gold. With these
he was loaded clean up to the muzzle
an Ohen he turned loose an began IL
fire scriptur' into an auicnce, lac
might or been called the mountain how
itEcr Of God.
He WAS full of Spirit. an when he
went forth 10 labor in the Lords Dig
gin2s, he alIurs meant business. He
wasn't one of them kind of preachers
whose prayin' is just little sneakin'
drixzle that only vets the earth here
an there, washin' away none of the
dust OF inqnity-never causin single
seed of good 10 sprout or raisin' up the
droopin head of single wilted plant !,
No. The prayer of Olympus was like
cloud-burst on mountain II swept
down through the dark canohs OF sin
and sent all the miners therein end
over end and down the tail humes of
the devil. till they was glad to grab
the fust branch of the tree Of life that
hung in reach. and haul themselves
ashore, high an dry on the Rock of
Ages.
Olympus wasn't one of yer stuck up
kind of laborcrs in the Vineyard. AS
couldn't preach without morocco
bound, gold-clasped Scripture, and u
pulpit as grand rs the gates of New
Jerusalem. Not bit of it Why.
fellcrs, he'd just haul his little old greasy
pack of loose leaves of the Bible out'n
his POCKET, shuttle it up, give it a cut.
drawl out text, and then just hammer
his bells out'n all the sinners on
Sucker Flat.
THAT was preacher for yer, an we
shall never look on him again Fill
up yer glasses. fellers let's all drink to
him, though he's now safe on the other
side Of Jordan