“Well, yearly nex’ mornin hyear dey come agin, an’ dis time de king he come wid ’em; an’ dey hyeard de lions er ro’in, ’Ar-ooorrrrar! arooorrrrar!’ an’ dey come ter de den, an’ dey open de do’, an’ dar wuz de lions wid dey mouf open an’ dey eyes er shinin,’ jes er trompin’ backerds an f’orerds; an’ dar in de corner sot an angel smoovin’ uv ‘is wings; an’ right in de middle uv de den was Dan’l, jes er sot’n back dar!  Gemmun, he wuzn totch! he nuber so much as had de smell uv de lions bout’n ’im! he wuz jes as whole, mun, as he wuz de day he wuz born!  Eben de boots on ’im, sar, wuz ez shiny ez dey wuz wen dey put ’im in dar.

“An’ he jes clum up de side uv de den, he did; an’ soon’s uber his feet tech de yeath, he sez ter de king, sezee, ’King, hit ain’t no usen fur yer ter fool erlong o’ me,’ sezee; ‘I’m er prayin’ man mysef, an I ‘low ter live an’ die on my knees er prayin’ an’ er sarvin’ de Lord.’  Sezee, ‘De Lord ain’t gwine let de lions meddle long o’ me,’ sezee; ‘I ain’t fyeard o’ nufn,’ sezee.  ‘De Lord is my strengt an’ my rocks, an’ I ain’t er fyeard o’ no man.’  An’ wid dat he helt er preachin’, sar, right whar he wuz; an’ he tol’ ’em uv dey sins, an’ de goodness uv de Lord.  He preach de word, he did, right erlong, an’ atter dat he ’gun ter sing dis hymn: 

  “‘Dan’l wuz er prayin’ man;
    He pray tree times er day;
    De Lord he hist de winder,
    Fur ter hyear po’ Dan’l pray.’

“Den he ‘gun ter call up de mo’ners, an’ dey come too!  Mun, de whole yeath wuz erlive wid ’em:  de white folks dey went up; an’ de niggers dey went up; an’ de pater-rollers dey went up; an’ de king he went up; an’ dey all come thu an’ got ‘ligion; an’ fum dat day dem folks is er sarvin’ de Lord.

“An’ now, chil’en, efn yer be like Brer Dan’l, an’ say yer prars, an’ put yer pen’ence in de Lord, yer needn be er fyeard uv no lions; de Lord, he’ll take cyar uv yer, an’ he’ll be mighty proud ter do it.

“Now,” continued the old man, “we’ll close dis meet’n by singing uv er hymn, an’ den yer kin all go.  I’ll give de hymn out, so’s dar needn’t be no ’scuse ‘bout not know’n uv de words, an’ so’s yer all kin sing.”

The children rose to their feet, and Uncle Rob, with great solemnity, gave out the following hymn, which they all, white and black, sang with great fervor: 

  “O bless us, Lord!  O bless us, Lord! 
   O bless us mo’ an’ mo’;
   Unless yer’ll come an’ bless us, Lord,
   We will not let yer go. 
  “My marster, Lord; my marster, Lord—­
   O Lord, he does his bes’,
   So when yer savin’ sinners, Lord,
   Save him wid all de res’. 
  “O bless us, Lord!  O bless us, Lord! 
   An’ keep us in yer cyar;
   Unless yer’ll come an’ bless us, Lord,
   We’re gwine ter hol’ yer hyear. 
  “My missus, Lord; my missus, Lord,
   O bless my missus now—­
   She’s tryin’ hard ter serve yer, Lord,
   But den she dunno how.