Temperance > Autobiography and personal recollections of John B. Gough

LECTURES.
129
“Who is the lecturer?”
“Gough.”
“Can you tell me where I can find the president of the
Society V
“I spect 7 am the president.”
“Ah!—my name is Gough.”
“Waal, it’s most time to go in.”
So in we went, and I sat in a pew till he came to me,
and said, “You’d better go in the desk.”
“ Is there any one here to offer prayer?” I asked.
“No; the minister’s away.”
“Is there no deacon?”
“I spect I’m a deacon.”
“Can’t you pray?”
“No; I don’t speak in meeting.”
As I passed into the desk, he stood below and announced:
“Mr. Gough is in the desk, and is going to lectur.”
So I “lectur’d” as well as I was able, and had no sooner
taken my seat than I heard from below: “We’ll now per-
cede to take up a collection for the benefit of the lec¬
turer.”
As no one seemed inclined to move, he passed round
with his hat, while the people were going out, and, dump¬
ing the contents on the table in front of the pulpit, and
shaking the lining of his hat, said, “There! that’s all for
you, and we sha’n’t take nothing out for lights.”
The amount did not exceed a dollar and a half,—prin¬
cipally in cents; some of them the tokens that were then
in vogue, and passing as current coin, stamped on one
side with a jackass running away with the sub-treasury.
I said, “I don’t want it.”
“ Why, there’s a lot of it.”
“I don’t want it.”
“Yer don’t?”