According to a story told by Rev. J. Ed. Shaw, of Hammonton, N.
J., a man should always adapt himself to local conditions if he
wants to slip along without falling over his feet.
Some time ago, Mr. Shaw said, a little colored congregation
over in Jersey invited a preacher friend of his to occupy their
pulpit at the coming Sunday evening service, and the good
dominie, wishing to encourage the colored brethren, readily
complied.
Reaching the church where he was the only paleface present, the
preacher delivered a sermon full of helping advice, made an
eloquent prayer, and then announced that the service would be
closed by singing the hymn, “Wash Me and I Shall Be Whiter Than
Snow.” At this point one of the darksome congregation rose to
his feet.
“Look heah, pahson,” said he impressively. “Yo’ will hab to
’scuse me, but I rise to a point ob ordah.”
“What is it?” asked the preacher, with large symptoms of
surprize floating over his features.
“It am dis way,” replied the parishioner. “Yo’ hab ebidently
made a mistake in de crowd. Dis am a cull’ed congregashun, an’
s’nce all de pump watah an’ sof’ soap in de county can’t make de
words ob dat hymn come true, I jes’ wish dat yo’ would change
her to some uddah tune.”--Philadelphia _Evening Telegraph_.
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