“’Cordin’ to my custom, jes’ befo’ de time fur de sermon I had all de watermilions laid out on de grass, one hundred ob de bigges’ an’ fattes’ ones you eber seed. You see, boss, I am constertushunally upposed to long sermons,” he winked, “an’ I knowed dey wa’n’t a nigger libin’ c’uld preach ober ten minnits wid all dem watermilions a-layin’ dar a-winkin’ at ’im an’ waiting to be led, lak’ lambs, to de sacrifice. Does you see de p’int?” I saw it. “Wal, suh, you orter jes’ heurd de prayer Br’er Johnsing put up--it wus short, but mighty sweet. De flavor ob de watermilions seem ter git into hit, an’ de ’roma ob hits juice b’iled outen his mouth. Boss, you’ve seed dese kinder preachers dat talks to de good Lord wid all de easy fermileriaty ob a deestrick skule-teacher axin’ de presedent ob de skule board fur what he wants, an’ wid all de sassy assurance ob de silent partner in a lan’-offis bisness, ain’t you? Wal, dat’s de way Br’er Johnsing prayed, an’ I wus de speshul objec, ob his conversashun wid de Almighty dat day. He tole ’im whut I’d dun fur dat community, informed ’im very posertively ob de fac’ dat I wus a Godly man, refreshed His mem’ry in a gentle way consarnin’ sum’ ob my long-furgotten deeds ob cheerity, an’ gin Him sum’ good, brotherly advice on how to git eben wid me, an’ in a measure pay off de debt of gratitude He owed me by makin’ it His will dat I wus erg’in to administer de law ob de lan’, both spiritual an’ temper’l, an’ fur ernudder twelvemonth ter be de venerbul ram ob de flock ob Zion, to lead His sheep to de fold an’ by de still waters. Wal, suh, when he finish, mighty nigh eb’ry nigger dar said Amen, an’ den dey lick dey chops an’ look sorter dreamy lak ober whar de watermilions lay ’n de col’ spring branch. “Dis wus my time to spring de s’prise ob de ebenin’ on ’em, dat I’d fixed up. An’ so I riz up wid de most sancterfied look on I c’uld git, one ob dem onworthy, miserbul-sinner sorter looks dat we elders allers carry aroun’ in our coat pockets along with our bandanna handkerchiefs fur enny emergency, an’ I sez: ‘Brudders an’ sistrin, befo’ we listen to de soulful sermon in store fur our spiritual natures, which Br’er Johnsing gwineter gib us in his ellerquent way, I’ve sprung a letle s’prise on you, an’ I wants you all to retire wid me an’ refresh de innard man a leetle. Brudderin’ knowin’ my onworthiness an’ de many obligashuns I am under to dis enlightened community ob Christian saints an’ godly men an’ wimmen, I’ve made two bar’ls ob ice-cold lemmernade, an’ you’ll find ’em asettin’, es a big s’prise,’ sez I, ‘on de houn’s ob my ox-waggin, in de cool shade by de spring, wid plenty ob tin dippers fur all. We’ll now adjourn twenty minnits fur refreshments.’