nex'
week, an' on 'tother side de fence Unc' Jim's gyarden burnin' up. Mr.
Ed'ards wants dry weather, an' Jim want rain, an' dey bofe pray deir own
way! Bofe got faith, now, bofe got faith, an' one pray fer rain while
t'other pray fer dry weather; what de Lord goin' do? Is he goin' ter
split er rain on dat fence? Answer me! Don't turn yo' back ter me;
answer me, Ben!"

"You want my answer?"

"Yes, I want hit. Don't stan' dah a stammerin'! What de Lord goin' do?"

"You want my answer? Well, hyah 'tis. De Lord 'u'd sen' 'nough rain to
help de gyarden, but not 'nough ter hurt de oats. Dat's my answer!"

"You don't know what you all talkin' bout! Send 'nough rain ter help de
gyarden, an' not 'nough to hurt de oats! You reckon Mr. Ed'ards let er
nigger stay on dis place an' pray fer rain when he cuttin' oats? You
reckon er nigger goin' ter come hyah an' run er market-gyarden wid 'im
on sheers, an' him er prayin' fer dry wedder when cabbage oughter be
headin' up? No, sah! You c'n pray fer grace, an' when you gits grace
you're all right, rain er no rain; but you better not resk yo'se'f on
rain. Folks got ter have somebody ter settle when hit shall rain, an'
when hit sha'n't rain. Faith ain' got nothin' ter do 'ith hit. It takes
horse sense. Why, ef de Lord was ter tie er rope to de flood-gates, an'
let hit down hyah ter be pulled when dey need rain, somebody'd git
killed ev'y time dey pulled hit. Folks wid oats ter cut 'u'd lie out wid
dey guns an' gyard dat rope, an' folks wid cabbages 'd be sneakin' up in
de dyark tryin' ter git hold er hit. Fus' thing you know, er cem'tery
grow up roun' dyah an' nobody lef' ter pull de rope!"

"Faith 'u'd fetch it. Yes, sah, hit'll fetch hit."

"You got any?"

"Not 'nough ter fetch rain."

"Yo' fam'bly got any?"

"Not 'nough fer rain."

"Well den it look like faith es 'bout as scyarce an' hard ter git as
rain. Has Macedony Church got any?"

"Plenty."

"Got 'nough fer rain?"

"Plenty."

"Well den you go down dyah to prayer-meeting ter-night; an' take yo'
fambly, an' all de niggers in de settlement what' got faith,--don't get
none but faith niggers,--an' see ef you git er rain. You git rain, an'
I'll give up. I hyah you all been prayin' fer me ter come in
chu'ch--cause de ole roof wants patchin' I reckon. Git de rain an' you
gits me too. Go on, an' try hit. I ain't got no time ter waste. Fus'
thing you know, rain'll be pourin' down, an' dat dah chu'ch'll be
leakin' faster