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"'Twas kind o' sudden," said the news-bringer, who was Joe Bartlett; "he was took all to once and jes' dropped like a ripe chestnut." "Why, like a ripe chestnut?" said Mrs. Starling sharply. "Wall, I had to say suthin', and that come first. The Scripter doos speak of a shock o' corn in his season, don't it, Mis' Starling?" "What's the likeness between a shock o' corn and a chestnut, Joe?
On a rustic seat, near a rear door, white-haired old Sam is sitting, listening intently, while dusky Mug reads to him from the book of books, the one he prizes above all else, stopping occasionally to expound, in his own way, some point which he fancies may not be clear to her, likening every good man to "Massah Hugh," and every bad one to the leader of the "Suddern 'Federacy," whose horse he declares he held once in "ole Virginny," telling Mug, in an aside, "how, if 'twasn't wicked, nor agin' de scripter, he should most wish he'd put beech nuts under Massah Jeffres' saddle, and so broke his fetched neck, 'fore he raise sich a muss, runnin' calico so high that Miss Ellis 'clar she couldn't 'ford it, and axin' fifteen cents for a paltry spool of cotton."
Rondeau instantly started for home, where he was greeted by Aunt Dilsey with a torrent of abuse, that good lady rating him soundly for being gone too long. "Warn’t he ’shamed to be foolin’ away his time? ’Twan’t his time nuther, ’twas marster’s time. Was that ar fulfillin’ of Scripter, which says, ’we must be all eye sarvants,’ which means ye must all keep clus where yer marsters can see you?"
Aside from him bein' a profound sharp on drugs, an' partic'lar cowboy drugs, he's plenty learned in a gen'ral way, an' knows where every kyard lays in nacher's deck, from them star-flecked heavens above to the earth beneath, an' as Scripter puts it to the 'waters onder the earth. It's a good scheme to have a brace of highly eddicated gents, same as Colonel Sterett an' Doc Peets, sort o' idlin' 'round your camp.
"An' dar's good ole Aun' Patty, who knows more Scripter' dan ennybuddy h'yar, havin' been teached by de little gals from Kunnel Jasper's an' by dere mudders afore 'em. I reckin she know' de hull Bible straight froo, from de Garden of Eden to de New Jerus'lum. An' dar are udders h'yar who knows de Scripters, some one part an' some anudder.
It is no small part of our art, sir, and he now spoke with the confidence of a man who understood his subject, to reconcile the patient to what is for his own good, though at the same time it may be unpalatable. Sartain! Dr. Todd is right, said Remarkable, and has Scripter for what he says. The Bible tells us how things may be sweet to the mouth, and bitter to the inwards.
I see most the first thing as I entered, a place called Creation, and feelin' dubersome that any thing more could be created than what I'd seen that day, I bought a ticket and went in, and to my glad surprise, I found it wuz some like a prayer meetin'. For a man with a loud preachin' voice quoted a lot of Scripter most the first thing.
She was a lonely creeter, her folks bein' all dead but one sister, who didn't use her waal, an' somehow I kinder yearned over her, as they say in Scripter. For all I set an' gawped, I was coming raound fast, though I felt as I used tew, when I was goin' to shoot the rapids, kinder breathless an' oncertin, whether I'd come aout right side up or not. Queer, warn't it?"
And so it went on for some time she a-tellin' out ever and anon loud and firm, "that she wanted to be found " and then bustin' into tears. "Oh, that will be joyful!" And Sister Lum sot down. Wall, that wuz what made Metilda Henn titter. And that was what made me bring forward that verse of scripter.
Man, Duncan, the Scripter described them weel. They're jist naething but the cracklin' o' thorns under a pot, aye, an' yon foolish bit crater that an ill fate has gie'n us for a meenister is the lightest o' them a'. May the Lord forgie the man that disgraced Maister Cameron's pulpit an' Maister McAlpine's name!"
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