Pour it into 'em, hot an' strong.
We can't have too much of it.

Work in them awful deathbeds of Voltaire an' Tom Paine, with the Devil right there in the room, reachin' for 'em, an' they yellin' for fright; that's what fills the anxious seat an' brings in souls hand over fist." Theron's tongue dallied for an instant with the temptation to comment upon these old-wife fables, which were so dear to the rural religious heart when he and I were boys.

But it seemed wiser to only nod again, and let his mentor go on.
"We ain't had no trouble with the Free Methodists here," continued Brother Pierce, "jest because we kept to the old paths, an' seek for salvation in the good old way.

Everybody can shout 'Amen!' as loud and as long as the Spirit moves him, with us.

Some one was sayin' you thought we ought to have a choir and an organ.