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On Colfax Mountain, N. J., lives good old Dominie
Ford. The Dominie is a good old hardshell Baptist,
who distills apple-toddy during the week and makes
special prayers and preaches doctrinal sermons on
Sunday. His forte is praying for specific things, and,
like the chaplain in the Massachusetts Legislature, he
always tells the Lord more than he asks for. Sometimes
the Dominie commences his prayer “O Lord! thou
knowest,” and goes on narrating what the Lord knows
for fifteen minutes.

One day Uncle Consider, Major Colfax and I called
on the good old Dominie, when he prayed as follows:

“O Lord, thou knowest the wickedness and depravity
of the human heart—even the hearts, O Lord,
of our visitors. Thou knowest the wickedness of thy
servant's nephew, John Ford. Thou knowest, O Lord,
how he has departed from thy ways and done many
wicked things, such as swearing and fishing on Sunday;
and thou knowest, O Lord, how he returned, no
longer ago than last night, in a state of beastly intoxication,
and whistling, O Lord, the following popular
air:

“`Shoo fly, don't bodder me!'

And the Dominie screwed up his lips and whistled
the air in his prayer.