“Preachers don't have to climb poles,” Georgie said with dignity. “GOOD ones do,” declared Herman. “Bes' one ev' _I_ hear, he clim up an' down same as a circus man. One n'em big 'vivals outen whens we livin' on a fahm, preachuh clim big pole right in a middle o' the church, what was to hol' roof up. He clim way high up, an' holler: 'Goin' to heavum, goin' to heavum, goin' to heavum NOW. Hallelujah, praise my Lawd!' An' he slide down little, an' holler: 'Devil's got a hol' o' my coat-tails; devil tryin' to drag me down! Sinnuhs, take wawnun! Devil got a hol' o' my coat-tails; I'm a-goin' to hell, oh Lawd!' Nex', he clim up little mo', an' yell an' holler: 'Done shuck ole devil loose; goin' straight to heavum agin! Goin' to heavum, goin' to heavum, my Lawd!' Nex', he slide down some mo' an' holler, 'Leggo my coat-tails, ole devil! Goin' to hell agin, sinnuhs! Goin' straight to hell, my Lawd!' An' he clim an' he slide, an' he slide, an' he clim, an' all time holler: 'Now 'm a-goin' to heavum; now 'm a-goin' to hell! Goin'to heavum, heavum, heavum, my Lawd!' Las' he slide all a-way down, jes' a-squallin' an' a-kickin' an' a-rarin' up an' squealin', 'Goin' to hell. Goin' to hell! Ole Satum got my soul! Goin' to hell! Goin' to hell! Goin' to hell, hell, hell!” Herman possessed that extraordinary facility for vivid acting which is the great native gift of his race, and he enchained his listeners. They sat fascinated and spellbound. “Herman, tell that again!” said Penrod, breathlessly. Herman, nothing loath, accepted the encore and repeated the Miltonic episode, expanding it somewhat, and dwelling with a fine art upon those portions of the narrative which he perceived to be most exciting to his audience. Plainly, they thrilled less to Paradise gained than to its losing, and the dreadful climax of the descent into the Pit was the greatest treat of all. The effect was immense and instant. Penrod sprang to his feet. “Georgie Bassett couldn't do that to save his life,” he declared. “_I_'m goin' to be a preacher! I'D be all right for one, wouldn't I, Herman?” “So am I!” Sam Williams echoed loudly. “I guess I can do it if YOU can. I'd be better'n Penrod, wouldn't I, Herman?” “I am, too!” Maurice shouted. “I got a stronger voice than anybody here, and I'd like to know what----” The three clamoured together indistinguishably, each asserting his qualifications for the ministry according to Herman's theory, which had been accepted by these sudden converts without question. “Listen to ME!” Maurice bellowed, proving his claim to at least the voice by drowning the others. “Maybe I can't climb a pole so good, but who can holler louder'n this? Listen to ME-E-E!” “Shut up!” cried Penrod, irritated. “Go to heaven; go to hell!” “Oo-o-oh!” exclaimed Georgie Bassett, profoundly shocked. Sam and Maurice, awed by Penrod's daring, ceased from turmoil, staring wide-eyed. “You cursed and swore!” said Georgie.