Volume 10 — AN OLD-TIME SINGER

BY FRANK L. STANTON

I don't want any hymnbook when the Methodists is nigh, A-linin' out the ol' ones that went thrillin' to the sky In the ol' campmeetin' seasons, when 'twuz "Glory hallelu!" An' "Brother, rise an' tell us what the Lord has done fer you!" Fer I know them songs so perfect that when I git the swing O' the tune they want to go to I kin shet my eyes an' sing! "On Jordan's stormy banks," an' ol' "Amazin' Grace"—they seem So nat'ral, I'm like some one that's singin' in a dream! Oh, when it comes to them ol' songs I allus does my part; An' I've got the ol'-time Bible down, as you might say, "by heart!" When the preacher says the fust word in the givin' of his text I smile with satisfaction, kaze I know what's comin' next! The wife says: "That's amazin'!" an' the preacher says—says he, With lots o' meanin' in his voice, an' lookin' queer at me "Sence you know more o' the Bible than the best o' us kin teach, Don't you think you orter practice what you're payin' us to preach?" Well, that gits me in a corner—an' I sorter raise my eyes An' the tune about them titles to the "mansions in the skies"! I want the benediction then—I'm ready to depart! But when it comes to singin'—well, I've got the hymns by heart!