A New Rendering Of An Old Text

Spending a winter as invalida at Aiken, South Carolina, the Ilon. Thurlow Weed and Mr. Thomas C. Acton whiled away one Sabbath aftcrnoon by attending a negro churcli, and were accompanied by Mr. John A. Kennedy, who was on a visit of a few days to Mr. Acton. When thuy entered the primitive temple the preaohor, who was a jmre África, was grappling with all the fervor of his race with the old, old story of the fall of man. Sketching tliat day in the Garden with its terrible resulta, he exooriated Mr. Adam in this fashion : " Xow, brederen, when do Lord calis Adam to 'count, did he stan' up like a man, eonfess his sin and ask forgivenesa ? He didn't do nullin of de sort, hrodoren but he siiy : " ' Lord, de woman dat Dou gubest me gub me for to cat.' " Pausing a moment he repeated : " De woman dat Dou gubest me gub me for to eat.' " Then again : " ' De woman dat Dou gubest rac gul me for to cat.' " " Dar, broderen, you seo dat mean skulkir;' Adrun was a tryin' to sneak ou of it by frowin' all de blame on de Lort hisself." This now idea of an old question was too much for the distinguished " white trash," who had fortunaU;ly taken seats neir the door, and thoy travéd into the fields to indulge in irrevernt laughter. -