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"I was goin' to tell ye, Bachelder Lot, here," he went on; "he was a' askin' Captain Sartell what kind o' fish them was that it's recorded in the Scripters to 'a' fed the multitude, and then took up so many baskets full o' leavin's; and the Captain told him that as to exactly what manner of fish them was, he hadn't sufficient acquaintance with the book of Jonah to say, but, as near as he could calk'late, he reckoned they was ale-whops.
A man well in years, inferior in person, with a mild, sweet, benevolent face, and blameless, dreamy life, he spent much time in "sarching the Scripters," as he expressed it, in constant conversations and mild disputations of Bible texts and doctrines, and sermonizing at the Sunday assemblies of his co-believers.
Finally, I des got morchully tiahed o' dat man's ca'in' on, an' I say to him one day, 'Madison, I say, 'I'm tiahed of all dis foo'ishness, an' I'm gwine up Norf whaih I kin live an' be somebody. Ef evah you mek a man out o' yo'se'f, an' want me, de Bible say 'Seek an' you shell receive. Cause even den I was a mighty han' to c'ote de Scripters.
Let 'em do a little suthin' to deserve it 'fore you scare 'em to death, say I." "Jabe explained it all out to him after supper. It beats all how he gets on with children." "I'd ruther hear how he explained it," answered Samantha sarcastically. "He's great on expoundin' the Scripters jest now. Well, I hope it'll last.
But I wouldn't let him wrest the Scripters to his own destruction, and told him I wouldn't, and then sez I, "I never could enjoy religion settin' under a stolen feather." As you pass through these picturesque streets memories of them that have made this city historic crowd upon your mind. You think of Saladin, Christian, Mameluke and Islamite.
"Why, no, Ancient; you see, he happened to be wearing a bell-crowned hat and a long coat." "A 'at an' coat!" said the old man in a disappointed tone "a 'at, Peter?" "Yes," I nodded. "To be sure, the Scripters say as 'e goeth up an' down like a ravening lion seekin' whom 'e may devour." "Yes," said I, "but more often, I think, like a fine gentleman!"
I've heard all my life you Cath'lics don't take as much stock in the Scripters as you'd oughter, but this thing o'callin' a wurrum Adam named plain Caterpillar a a what'd you say the dum beast's name was? My sufferin' Savior! is jest about the wust dern foolishness yet!
"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.
"No, No, Peter." "And why not?" "I think, Peter." "But surely you can both think and sing, George?" "Not always, Peter." "What's your trouble, George?" "No trouble, Peter," said he, above the roar of the bellows. "Then sing, George." "Ay, Jarge, sing," nodded the Ancient; "'tis a poor 'eart as never rejices, an' that's in the Scripters so, sing, Jarge."
Now I axes ebery one ob you all wot know de Scripters ef he don' 'member how de Bible tells how our Lor' when he was on dis yearth cas' seben debbils out o' Mary Magdalum?" A murmur of assent came from the congregation. Most of them remembered that. "But did enny ob you ebber read, or hab read to you, dat he ebber cas' 'em out o'enny udder woman?"
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