“An’ he jes clum up de side uv de den, he did; an’ soon’s uber his feet tech de yeath, he sez ter de king, sezee, ’King, hit ain’t no usen fur yer ter fool erlong o’ me,’ sezee; ‘I’m er prayin’ man mysef, an I ’low ter live an’ die on my knees er prayin’ an’ er sarvin’ de Lord.’  Sezee, ‘De Lord ain’t gwine let de lions meddle long o’ me,’ sezee; ’I ain’t fyeard o’ nufn,’ sezee.  ‘De Lord is my strengt an’ my rocks, an’ I ain’t er fyeard o’ NO man.’  An’ wid dat he helt er preachin’, sar, right whar he wuz; an’ he tol’ ’em uv dey sins, an’ de goodness uv de Lord.  He preach de word, he did, right erlong, an’ atter dat he ’gun ter sing dis hymn: 

“‘Dan’l wuz er prayin’ man;
  He pray tree times er day;
De Lord he hist de winder,
  Fur ter hyear po’ Dan’l pray.’

“Den he ‘gun ter call up de mo’ners, an’ dey come too!  Mun, de whole yeath wuz erlive wid ’em:  de white folks dey went up; an’ de niggers dey went up; an’ de pater-rollers dey went up; an’ de king he went up; an’ dey all come thu an’ got ‘ligion; an’ fum dat day dem folks is er sarvin’ de Lord.

“An’ now, chil’en, efn yer be like Brer Dan’l, an’ say yer prars, an’ put yer pen’ence in de Lord, yer needn be er fyeard uv no lions; de Lord, he’ll take cyar uv yer, an’ he’ll be mighty proud ter do it.

“Now,” continued the old man, “we’ll close dis meet’n by singin’ uv er hymn, an’ den yer kin all go.  I’ll give de hymn out, so’s dar needn’t be no ’scuse ‘bout not know’n uv de words, an’ so’s yer all kin sing.”

The children rose to their feet, and Uncle Bob, with great solemnity, gave out the following hymn, which they all, white and black, sang with great fervor: 

“O bless us, Lord!  O bless us, Lord! 
  O bless us mo’ an’ mo’;
Unless yer’ll come an’ bless us, Lord,
  We will not let yer go.

“My marster, Lord; my marster, Lord—­
  O Lord, he does his bes’,
So when yer savin’ sinners, Lord,
  Save him wid all de res’. 
O bless us, Lord!  O bless us, Lord! 
  An’ keep us in yer cyar;
Unless yer’ll come an’ bless us, Lord,
  We’re gwine ter hol’ yer hyear.

“My missus, Lord; my missus, Lord,
  O bless my missus now—­
She’s tryin’ hard ter serve yer, Lord,
  But den she dunno how. 
O bless us, Lord!  O bless us, Lord! 
  O bless us now, we pray;
Unless yer’ll come an’ bless us, Lord,
  We won’t leave hyear ter day.

“Deze chil’en, Lord; deze chil’en, Lord,
  O keep dey little feet
Er gwien straight ter hebn, Lord,
  Fur ter walk dat golden street. 
O bless us, Lord!  O bless us, Lord! 
  O come in all yer might;
Unless yer’ll come an’ bless us, Lord,
  We’ll wrestle hyear all night.

“Deze niggers, Lord; deze niggers, Lord,
  Dey skins is black, hit’s true,
But den dey souls is white, my Lord,
  So won’t yer bless dem too? 
O bless us, Lord!  O bless us, Lord! 
  O bless us mo’ an’ mo’;
Unless yer’ll come an’ bless us, Lord,
  We’ll keep yer hyear fur sho.