From Perry Smith,
Down in Adams County where we grew up, one of the points of interest was a little white church, which sat on a corner where two roads crossed. Every winter preachers came there and had what they called a ‘Big Stir’. Before these meetings closed, we had all got so good we had to go over to another Township and get some sinners for those preachers to work on.
We went to Big Meeting that Sunday night.
All the folks for miles around was there.
That old Parson preached with all his might.
He sure made old Satan rear and tear.
He told about the soul you lose
If you don’t mend your ways.
He said right now is the time to choose,
The end is near, just a few more days.
He preached like that for two hours or more,
Then they all knelt in prayer.
He screamed, “Come on out here and shake my hand,
And gain a home up there.”
I looked around o’r that vast throng
To see what I could see.
The only souls that wasn’t bowed down
Was that preachin’ man and me.
He fixed on me his burning gaze
Plum full of holy ferver.
I sat there sorta in a daze,
My, I was wishing church was over.
He came down that isle in silent tread
Just like a stalking lion.
His fiery eyes seared through my head.
I could feel my brains a frying.
He leaped and grabbed me by my hand.
He dragged me down, upon my knee.
He yelled, “BEHOLD THE PROMISED LAND”
And scared the devil out of me.
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