Here you will find the Poem Sister Jones's Confession of poet James Whitcomb Riley
I thought the deacon liked me, yit I warn't adzackly shore of it-- Fer, mind ye, time and time agin, When jiners 'ud be comin' in, I'd seed him shakin' hands as free With all the sistern as with me! But jurin' last Revival, where He called on _me_ to lead in prayer, An' kneeled there with me, side by side, A-whisper'n' 'he felt sanctified Jes' tetchin of my gyarment's hem,'-- That settled things as fur as them- Thare other wimmin was concerned!-- And--well!--I know I must a-turned A dozen colors!--_Flurried_?--_la_!-- No mortal sinner never saw A gladder widder than the one A-kneelin' there and wonderun' Who'd pray'--So glad, upon my word, I railly could n't thank the Lord!
