chapters in the life of this grand old man.Thar's this to be observed: The Sterett fam'ly is eminent for two things: it gets everything it needs; an' it never gets it till it needs it.Does it need a gun, or a hoss, or a drink, the Sterett fam'ly proceeds with the round-up.It befalls that when my grandfather passes his eightieth year, he decides that he needs religion.
"'" It's about time," he says, "for me to begin layin' up a treasure above.I'm goin' on eighty-one an' my luck can't last forever.""'So my grandfather he sets up in bed an' he perooses them scriptures for four months.I tell you, gents, he shorely searches that holy book a whole lot.An' then he puts it up he'll be baptized.Also, that he'll enter down into the water an' rise up out of the water like it's blazoned in them texts.
"'Seein' she's Janyooary at the time, with two foot of snow on the ground, it looks like my grandfather will have to postpone them rites.But he couldn't be bluffed.My grandfather reaches out of bed an' he rings that bell I tells you-all of, an' proceeds to convene his niggers.He commands 'em to cut down a big whitewood tree that lives down in the bottoms, hollow out the butt log for a trough, an'
haul her up alongside the r'ar veranda.
"'For a week thar's a incessant "chip! chop!" of the axes; an' then with six yoke of steers, the trough is brought into camp.It's long enough an' wide enough an' deep enough to swim a colt.
"'The day for the baptizin' is set, an' the Sterett fam'ly comes trackin' in.Thar's two hundred of 'em, corral count.The whole outfit stands 'round while the water is heatin' for to clip the old gent.My father, who is the dep'ty chief an' next in command, is tyrannizin' about an' assoomin' to deal the game."Thar's a big fire at which they're heatin' the rocks wherewith to raise the temperatoor of the water.The fire is onder the personal charge of a faithful old nigger named Ben.When one of them stones is red hot, Ben takes two sticks for tongs an' drops it into the trough.Thar's a bile an' a buzz an' a geyser of steam, an' now an' then the rock explodes a lot an' sends the water spoutin' to the eaves.It's all plenty thrillin', you can bet! "My father, as I states, is pervadin'
about, so clothed with dignity, bein' after my grandfather the next chicken on the roost, that you can't get near enough to him to borry a plug of tobacco.Once in a while he'd shasee up an' stick his hand in the water.It would be too hot, mebby."'"Yere, you Ben!" he'd roar."What be you aimin' at? Do you-all want to kill the old man Do you think you're scaldin' a hawg?" "Then this yere Ben; would get conscience-stricken an' pour in a bar'l or two of cold water.In a minute my father would test it ag'in an' say:
"'"Ben, you shorely are failin' in your intellects.Yere this is as cold as ice; you'll give the old man a chill." "Final, however, the water is declar'd right, an' then out comes a brace of niggers, packin' my grandfather in a blanket, with the preacher preevail.in over all as offishul floor-manager of the festiv'ties.That's how it ends: my grandfather is baptized an' gets religion in his eighty-first year, A.D.; an' two days later he sets in his chips, shoves his cha'r back an' goes shoutin' home.
"'"Be I certain of heaven?" he says to the preacher, when he's down to the turn."Be I winner accordin' to your rooles an' tenets?""'"Your place is provided," says the preacher, that a-way."'"If it's as good a place as old Kaintucky, they shorely ain't goin' to have no fuss nor trouble with me, an' that's whatever!"'"
