The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1895-09-29

pealing way. She looked about her
YEARLY and sadly for a moment, but soon
a radiant light fell upon her face, for
her sermon had struck home, and she
knew il; the entire congregation began
to sing, and the queer part of 1t all was
they began to sing the same thing. Soon
some began to chant, while others cried
aloud, moaning and bewailing their sins.
You talk about your paid choirs. There
isn't enough money in New York to buy
such music as l heard that night The
a minor chord that touched ones very
soul was the predominating sound.
sermons and music have a most cleo
trlIying erect upon a colored congrega-
ton, and this one was soon wrought up
10 the highest pitch of religious excite
ment. Some of the moners Frustrated
themselves on their faces, beating the
bare floor with their hands until they
We're worn out, when they would lie in
what is termed a trance. Others crawl
ed on their knees to the pulpit. Many of
them sat in the midst of this uproar and
appeared neither to see nor hear, so in
tent were they in working out their own
ters, who were sure of heaven, kept on
singing to keep things going. The leader
that night was a regular old-time, befo'-
the-war nanny, and goodness fairly
beamed from her countenance.
"I bin liar so long, so long
So long, so long;
/ bin liar so long.
she chanted in a weird, pathetic voice,
and every person in the congregation who
was able to lift his or her voice chanted
the refrain at the end of every three
lines.
Gin me little time ter pray
Every one was in motion. Some swayed
their bodies backward and forward, some
shuffied their feet in time to the music,
and the very happy ones clapped their
hands and shouted, GLORY, my LaWd!
This kept up for hours. Several PROSTATE
forms were carried out and a number
were left in the church where they lay I'M
til next day. When l got tired and went
away that night the little preacher, ut
terry worn out, had curled herself up in
q split bottom chair, and was enjoying
the sleep of innocent childhood. l could
hardly sleep that night for thinking about
that meeting. l tell you, boys, L was i'm
pressed"
'I always thought you were above such
superstition, squire" remarked some one
as the squire stopped to refill his pipe.
We'll, any way, went back the next
night" resumed the squire, land for the
first time got a good view of the little
preacher. She is a perfect child in her
looks and ways. Her complexion is about
the color of an old muster ground ginger
cake, her teeth white and even, the
white of her large, mournful eyes
prominent, and she doesn't weigh
pounds. There were a lot of white people
in the congregation, but she took no no
tice of them. Curiosity prompted me to go
to listen, to her. but interest held me
there. She spoke right out in the most
earnest way, as if her only thought was
preaching the gospel Her delivery and
gestures were easy, and, in fact what
she said and the way she said it beat
nine-tenths of the preachers-specially
these evangelists-white or black
'She opened service with a very good
prayer, and read, or rather recited,
chapter from the Bible, which did not
bear on the sermon in the least Her one
thought seems to be to prepare for the
Great Beyond, which she designates as
way over yonder. She talks about the
hereafter in a most pathetic way and 1
remember on that particular night her
text was Business in Heaven.
III meet you there, sinner she said
for got business with Capt. Jesus
must tend to it. 1 must go where partin'
is no mo. got to put on long white
robe, starry crown, silver slippers and
sit at my Masters feet. L meet you over
yonder, way over yonder, for we all got to
cross Jordan stream dry shod and go over
yonder. I'll meet you there sad-hearted
mothers. I'll meet you there, wicked faith
ers. I'm going to get inside those pearly
gates. Are you, are you? Sinner YOU
must get right. Learn it now. Now is the
time. Way over yonder may be too late
for you, and so on. Night after night /
went and each time she had a new SER
mon, each one containing a sad strain
she made a pathetic figure ALWAYS
clad in deepest black without the slight-
est touch of color, that children love 50
well, or the faintest suggestion of an or
nament. When occasion demanded she
rebuked thoughtless persons for bad be-