And as the flood of melody poured through the house, the groups on the outside came in to join the singing. After the hymn, Uncle Snake-bit Bob led in prayer, and what the old man lacked in grammer and rhetoric was fully made up for in fervency and zeal. The prayer ended, Uncle Daniel arose, and, carefully adjusting his spectacles, he opened his Bible with all the gravity and dignity imaginable, and proceeded to give out his text. Now the opening of the Bible was a mere matter of form, for Uncle Daniel didn’t even know his letters; but he thought it was more impressive to have the Bible open, and therefore never omitted that part of the ceremony. “My bredren an’ my sistren,” he began, looking solemnly over his specs at the congregation, “de tex’ wat I’se gwine ter gib fur yer ’strucshun dis ebenin’ yer’ll not fin’ in de foremus’ part er de Book, nur yit in de hine part. Hit’s swotuwated mo’ in de middle like, ’boutn ez fur fum one een ez ’tiz fum tudder, an’ de wuds uv de tex’ is dis: “‘Burhol’, I’ll punish um! dey young men shall die by de s’ord, an’ dey sons an’ dey daughters by de famine.’ “My bredren, embracin’ uv de sistren, I’se ben ’stressed in my min’ ’boutn de wickedness I sees er gwine on. Eby night de Lord sen’ dar’s dancin’ an’ loffin’ an’ fiddlin’; an’ efn er man raises ’im er few chickens an’ watermillions, dey ain’t safe no longer’n his back’s turnt; an’, let erlone dat, dar’s quarlin’ ’longer one nudder, an’ dar’s sassin’ uv white folks an’ ole pussuns, an’ dar’s drinkin’ uv whiskey, an’ dar’s beatin’ uv wives, an’ dar’s dev’lin’ uv husban’s, an’ dar’s imperrence uv chil’en, an’ dar’s makin’ fun uv ’ligion, an’ dar’s singin’ uv reel chunes, an’ dar’s slightin’ uv wuck, an’ dar’s stayin’ fum meetin’, an’ dar’s swearin’ an’ cussin’, an’ dar’s eby kin’ er wickedness an’ dev’lment loose in de land. “An’, my bredren, takin’ in de sistren, I’ve talked ter yer, an’ I’ve tol’ yer uv de goodness an’ de long-suff’rin uv de Lord. I tol’ yer outn his Book, whar he’d lead yer side de waters, an’ be a Shepherd ter yer; an’ yer kep’ straight on, an’ neber paid no ’tenshun; so tudder night, wile I wuz er layin’ in de bed an’ er steddin’ wat ter preach ’bout, sumpin’ kin’ er speak in my ear; an’ hit sez, ‘Brer Dan’l, yer’ve tol’ ’em ’bout de Lord’s leadin’ uv ’em, an’ now tell ’em ’boutn his drivin’ uv ’em. An’, my bredren, includin’ uv de sistren, I ain’t gwine ter spare yer feelin’s dis day. I’m er stan’in’ hyear fur ter ’liver de message outn de Book, an’ dis is de message: “‘Burhol’, I’ll punish um! dey young men shall die by de s’ord, an’ dey sons an’ dey daughters by de famine.’