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"Except," went on the Bishop, "returnin' any little change he happen'd to borry from you, or swoppin' horses, or tellin' the size of the fish he happened to ketch. On them p'ints, my bretherin, the lamented corpse was pow'ful weak; an' I'm sorry to have to tell it, but I've been warned, as you all kno', to speak the exact facts."
Aunt Sally and Tilly pulled Uncle Dave down while they conversed with him earnestly. Then he arose and said: "Hillard, I beg yo' pardon. You've spoken the truth Sally and Tilly both say so. I tell yo', bretherin," he said turning to the congregation "it'd be a good thing if we c'ud all have our fun'ral sermon now and then correctly told.
Let us remember, when we see the faults and vices of others that we see only what they've done as Bobby Burns says, we don't kno' what they have resisted. Give 'em credit for that maybe it over-balances. Balancin' ah, my bretherin, that's a gran' thing. It's the thing on which the whole Universe hangs the law of balance.
Tears rolled down Draxy's face. But she looked up suddenly, on hearing Elder Kinney say, in an unsteady voice, "My bretherin, I'm goin' to read to you now a hymn which comes nigher to expressin' my idea of the kind of resignation God likes than any hymn that's ever been written or printed in any hymn-book;" and then he began: "I cannot think but God must know," etc.
Uncle Dave sat down. The Bishop was confused a moment, but quickly said: "Now bretherin, there's another good p'int about preachin' a man's fun'ral whilst he's alive. It gives the corpse a chance to correct any errors. Why, who'd ever have thought that good old Uncle Dave Dickey was that triflin' when he was young? Much obliged, Dave, much obliged, I'll try to tell the exact facts hereafter."
Thar'd been one young feller up thar from the settlemints, a-cavortin' aroun', an' they was studyin' 'bout gittin' him. "Bretherin' an' sisteren," I says, atter the leetle chap was gone, "he's got the fortitood to speak an' he shorely is well favored.
You can ketch the devil 'most any day in the week on Hell fer Sartain, an' sometimes you can git Glory everlastin' on Kingdom-Come. Hit's the only meetin'-house thar in twenty miles aroun'. Well, the reg'lar rider, ole Jim Skaggs, was dead, an' the bretherin was a-lookin' aroun' fer somebody to step into ole Jim's shoes.
Yes, Lord!" in a voice like a fact'ry whistle. Wa'al, after a little the' was some snickerin' an' gigglin' an' scroughin' an' hustlin' in the back part, an' even some of the serioustest up in front would kind o' smile, an' the moderator leaned over an' says to one of the bretherin on the platform, "Brother Jones," he says, "can't you git down to the back of the hall an' say somethin' to quiet Brother Smith?
"Tollerbul truthful," went on the Bishop, "on all subjects he wanted to tell the truth about. An' I'm proud to say, bretherin, that after fifty odd years of intermate acquantance with our soon-to-be-deceased brother, you cu'd rely on him tellin' the truth in all things except" "Tell it as it was, Hillard no filigree work at my fun'ral " said Uncle Dave.
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