St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1889-06-23
UNCLE ISH ON HELL.
The st. Paul Senegambian
Club Has a Religious
Debate.
Eternal Punishment Is Moot
ed and Uncle Isham
Crates.
Pope Bob Ingersoll Is An
sWered and Skeptics Are
Routed.
ode Smoke OBJ Tormint Fall
in de Moufs OBJ de
Wicked"

- M n
~, ~; ~: +: : i: +: !: !;
-lxaYI lamps, and
sINPS the guests
Ia were COM
PEELED to
smoke cigars and talk loud to be seen
and heard, The acoustics of the room
in which the festivity was about to be
raised" were very poor. owing to sew
eral set of Mr.. Ephriam'S horses har-
ness hanging on the wall. and
the wardrobe and bath tubs occupying
leaning position against the same
mural background. The ventilatOrs
were In good working order, and the
speakers of the evening were not both
cred with the dense clouds of tobacco
their escape by way of the ventllatOrs.
The host, embarrassed to andOunce that
he was all out of lemons or throat wa
fers, suggested the use of detection
of boiled molasses- and sand paper, sea-
soned with catgut fittings, adding an
thracite coal to suit the taste. The
party could not wait for this.
so a solution of crushed overshoes
and pulverized glass was used. Among
those present were Andrew Jackson
Sinks, Uncle Isham, of newspaper fame,
Elder Bariah Skink, James Willibil
WOOfie, Abraham LisOp johnson and
several brothers and sisters of the con-
gregation for the promotion of the
Lords work in this city. After the sup
per for which the host apologiZed-t there
not being enough-Uncie lsham was
called to the flOor-which, by the way.
nm Oo1lor-and
vigorously attacked by one of the bretil-
ern in the uncle's late issues with Col.
Bob Ingersoll. The following dialogue
ensued without interruption by the pa
troll wagon, and when the dispute broke
up sigh went up from the frightened
listeners which shook the building and
stunned half pound of butter which
han been forgotten on the table:
UNCLE ISHAM ON HE'LL.
"Unc' lshanl, is you bin read de pa
pers lately?"
''Me? Me read? Ketch me was'in'
my time and 'stroyin' my min like dat!
No! Bless Goud, can't read, nor
dom ten to. I dunno B from bulls
foot; and as for alfybit, eff alf was to
STAN up by de side OBJ bit coudn' tell
'em apart
s'Well, de papers say dat dar aiu't no
hell"
'.Dar! What I tole you, what I tole
you? Dis ar evil-spealin', carnstunt
cheatin', and newspaper-readin' gen
erashun, and it's all tOmfool. You-you-
you jes' go OH beleivin' dar amt no hell
and see whar you gwine to fatch up"
''But de papers say dar mOught be a
hell, but faint no real hell, like de good
old-fashioned hell whar we was raised
to. Oar amt no fire dar."
''What! Dey amt lit it yit?"
'Yaas. dat what de paper say, and
Butcher preach de same from de pull
pit"
"G'way from me, niger. Don't call
the name o. Butcher to me, for I'm a
Crissan man, bon and rais'd in ole Vir-
glnny 'mong 'spectibul white folks. Eff
good piece O. kindlin' like Butcher to
light it wild. But tits burnin' and
burn in day and night. like i'on fur
Miss dat don't never git chill. Oar is
too much sIn-timber kiv'rin de nth, and
de Lowd arnt clear the new groun' for
de Saints till dat breSh is Out'n de
Wav."
s.But you don't b'lieve in no morteyul
hell?'
.sB'lieve in it? Does I b'lieve in
fire what starts from nuthin and b'rns
up nuthin. and is built for no puppus
'ceptin' Jes' to make light blaze. like
boys playin' wild pile O. shavins? AK
me to 'tach my faith to fox-fire. Jack
bum? YOG's fool. Listen to me-"
.'Yaas."
When man die, he done dode, amt
he?'
.Yaas."
"Wed, when a man dode, he done
dode, UNI he carnt come to life no mo-,
nuver?
.sYaas."
Tel de angul Gabul blo' de ho'ns"
AN de trumpit shall SCUM -
"Yaas."
"Yaas me no yaas. Yassin' in sassin'.
Here is, ole nuf to be daddy Nv yO'
gran'mommy and carnt open my
mouth futto kwote de Gospil or Scripter
but you keep on truptin' me wild yo'
carnt talk in peace aim gwine talk a
tai"
'sDen ak yo' pardin, grant yo' grace
-g'Iong; my ear ar opin to de truf."
s'De trumpit shell SCUM, and de grave
shell pop, and de dOde shell be rails.
some to de glory oh sheep and some to
de damnation NV billygoats. Well!
When yO' come out'n yO' grave what
you gwine do?"
81 dunno"
mo mo- you don't. No newspaper
readin' fool nuver knows. All SIGH
minds me of tadpoles 'dout no head,
only teonchy bit Oh tail, and de wig
glin' o. dat dey confons wild Observashin
and calls it 'liteninment. But what you
gwine to do when you come Out'n yO'
grave? You gwine STAN dar in de
middil OBJ de road like balky mule?
No, Stree. Yu got to git up and git.
and 20 whar you b'longs- sheeps to de
right and goats to de lef'. De
Sleeps and 1am's oh goodness jes'
rises up like bloom from glory
to glory, till de highest and
de furderest stars in hebin amt nothin'
but low groans Oh S0rrer compared to
'em; while you, my onpenltent, wide
mouth, newspaper-readin' young niger
fren', and de likes OBJ you, will be kotch
by de nap o. de neck and flung uber de
battilments, and you'll drap, and drap,
and when you light you'll light in de
burnin' lape, aud great will be de splash
dareof. And you won't hear nuthin' but
de droppin' OBJ oder wicked billygoats
and sinners and a-drOp-
PIN like peas on a rawhide or
turkey shot in hoss-pon'. And de on
dyin' wurrum he'll be dar and he'll
grab you de moment you light, and he'll
kile and kiIe hisself aroun' you till de |
very marrer OBJ yo' soul is squeez outen |
you. And ole Satun, he'll be dar to |
kiver you up wild newspapers soakt in
karosene lie, and wild sulphur and wild
birthstone, and he'll bank de fires on
YOU. and dar you'll be and dar you'll |
stav wild nlentv oh newspapers wild |