A negro girl, decked with ribbons,
called across the street to a young colored
delinquent: "You no goes to de shoutings, Sam!
Why fur? You neber hears me shout, honey,
and dey do say I shouts so pretty. Cum 'long
wid me now."
A few blacks had collected in the small shanty
and the preacher, an old freedman, was about to
read a hymn as we entered. At first the singing
was low and monotonous, but it gradually swelled
to a high pitch as the negroes became excited.
Praying followed the singing. Then the black
preacher set aside "de shouting" part of the
service for what he considered more important
interests, and discoursed upon things spiritual
and temporal in this wise:
"Now I'se got someting to tell all' of yese
berry 'portant." Here two young blacks got up
to leave the room, but were rudely stopped by a
negro putting his back against the door. "No,
no," chuckled the preacher, "yese don't git off
dat a-way. I'se prepared fur de ockasun.
Nobody gits out ob dis room till I'se had my say.
Jes you set down dar. Now I'se goin' to do one
ting, and it's dis: I'se goin' to spread de Gospel
all ober dis yere island of Doboy.
