The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1880-10-08
CrOss-Cut Religion.

The Westinghouse of the Lickskillit
district was crowded. The preacher, old
Noah, with his grizzly beard and head
half white, like cotton field when the
bolls are just opening, sat in the pulpit
surveying his congregation In that pecul-
lar way which has ever characterized the
colored preacher. A spontaneous hymn
arose, and when the melody had ceased
the preacher arose and said, "Let us en-
gage in prar." The congregation kneeled,
even young Ike, the preachers son, who
had just come from down to the spring,
where he had been trying to swap mules
with one of the deacons.
"Oh, Lord, began the preacher, "we
semble in dis house oh worship to thank
thee fur the many blessins oh de past,
an ax dat yer would sprinkle our Ian
wild leetle noah rain. We must hab a
shower 'twixt dis an Saturday night,
case, Lord, we'se needin' oh hit. Amen. I"
Just as the preacher arose there was n
stir mt the rear end of the house. A tall
colored man, followed by several parties
as intensely colored as himself, filed down
the aisle. "Come up ter de stan,
Brother Robinson" said the preacher
for he recognized the preacher of the
Blacksnort district
81 doan want ter come up ten yer
stan" said Mr.. Robinson.
"Whut's de matter wild yer, sahl' ex-
claimed old Noah. whats ailin' OBJ
yer ?"
"Tuther day / sent yer a note, akin
yer ter stop prayin' fur rain," remarked
Robinson, with emphasis. ''Our cotton
is sufferin' fur sunshine. We'se had
noah rain den we wants, an heah yer
goes akin fur NOAH"
ave hain't had no rain, shah, an /
items ter pray fur it until hit do come"
sis yer tryin' ter drown us out?"
ono, but l wants 'nough rain"
81 understands yor game, Brudder
Noah. You sees dat rain is putin us in
de grass. You know dat hit is to de
worl'ly intrust oh dis section fur ter keep
us dar. Yer wants de Lord ter drown us
out, so dat your con'regation will git de
heels OBJ us id de market. De Lord at
dis season oh de yeah, has got so much
business ter tend ter dat he amt noticin'
how much rain is a fallin'. You keep
a sendin' up your prars, an he keeps a
pullin' de string. / wants yer to stop
hit. Does yer heah, Brudder Noah ?"
81 heah, but is mighty loft about
bark min. We wants rain, we does. We
prays, and eff de Lord grabs hold oh de
wrong string it faint no fault Of ours.
"Well, 1 came heal prepared for let
up or fight. Sich foolishness as you
send up is 'nough ter git de Lord so tan
gled dat he can't git himself straight for
yeah. You'll put de sun in de clips"
90 DO what wild do sunoo
"Put hit in de clips"
Well, eff dat doan beat any mistake
ever heard niger make. No wonder
de Lord won't pay no 'tention to yer"
"What would you say?"
"Why, de reclipse"
"Dat's all right, but de fact L want
settled is dis: Is yer gwine ter stop"
"No, l isn't"
Den we mixes WOOL"
Mr.. Robinson sprang toward the pull
pit Noah sprang to meet him. The
widest confusion prevailed. The two
men grappled, and the deacons gathered
around.
"Gimmy de plantation grip" ex-
claimed Noah, while Mr.. Robinson vo-
ciferated "cut yer capers, cut yer capers"
Finally Robinson fell, Noah mounted
him, choked him into obedience and
raising himself up, exclaimed: "Let us
pray again. Brudder johnson, git down
dar" The preachers have become friends.
Little Rock Gazette.