“You’re just out of date,”
said young pastor Bate
To one of our faithful old preachers
Who had tarried for years in travail and tears
The gospel to poor sinful creatures.

“You still preach on Hades,
and shock cultured ladies
With your barbarous doctrine of blood!
You’re so far behind you will never catch up—
You’re a flat tire stuck in the mud!”

For some little while, a bit of a smile
Enlightened the old preacher’s face.
Being made the butt of ridicule’s cut
Did not ruffle his sweetness and grace.

Then he returned to young Bate,
so suave and sedate.
“Catch up, did my ears hear you say'
“Why, I couldn’t succeed if I doubled my speed,
“My friend, I’m not going your way!”

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