“Wal, suh, you sh’uld a heurd de shout. Ef de ’lection bed cum’ off den, I’d a got eb’ry vote in de deestrick an’ a fair sprinklin’ ob sum’ in all de yudders. I went wid ’em an’ drunk, too. An’ we all drunk ter one ernudder’s health. I drunk to Sister Ca’line, an’ Br’er Johnsing he drunk to Dinah, an’ de leetle niggers drunk, an’ de ole niggers drunk, de gals an’ de boys. I hilt up my dipper an’ laugh, an’ sed to Br’er Johnsing, ‘Br’er Johnsing, here’s to you,’ sez I, ‘an’ all dat goes up must go down.’ An’ wid dat I swallered down. “Den Br’er Johnsing--he’s mighty funny--an’ he hilt up his’n and laugh, an’ say: ‘Br’er Washington, here’s to you,’ sez he, ‘an’ all dat goes down nurver comes up ergin.’ An’ den we all laugh. “But dat wus one time he wus terribly mistaken, es you will see. “Wal, suh, when we all hed drunk enough we went back to hear de watermilion sermon, an’ den eat de fruit ob whut we heurd. ’Tain’t eb’ry man kin say dat, boss, dat he eats de fruit ob whut he hears; digests de fustly, an’ de secondly, an’ de thudly, assimmerlates in de juicy rime ob de tangerbul thing, de logical konclushun ob de intelectual fac’. An’ darfore I’ve allers sed dat drawin’ yo’ konclushuns frum de heart ob a watermilion makes de bes’ sermon in de wurl’. “I b’leeve I tole you, boss, dat dat lemmernade wus intended fur a s’prise fur ’em, didn’t I?” “Yes, I believe you mentioned that it was a little surprise of yours in store for them.” The old man groaned. “Boss, fur heaben’s sake, annudder drap outen dat bottle! I’ll hafter brace up erg’in to tell de sorrowin’ scene dat follers. Thankee, thankee! I’m better now, an’ maybe I kin finish, fur dat lemmernade turned out to be de bigges’ an’ sorrerfullest surprise dat ever come down a pike. “Br’er Johnsing tuck fur his tex’ de sermon ob Noah an’ de ark, an’ whilst Noah wus de man menshuned, hit wus plain dat I was de applercashun. He went on to show dat I wus a godly man, jes’ lak’ ole Noah, an’ dat I wus to de community ob Big Sandy whut Noah was to Jeerruselum. He wus makin’ it short, but a-gwine in two-minnit time, a-pacin’ lak’ ole Joe Patchen at a matternee fur a silver cup an’ wreath ob roses, an’ den all at onct he lifted up his voice an’ sed: ‘Yes, brudderin, de waters ob de g-r-e-a-t deep riz up, an’ de bottom drop outen de clouds; de w-i-n-d-e-r-s ob heaben wus flung open, an’ de upheaval ob de u-n-e-v-e-r-s-e begun----’