A preacher was having a heart-to-heart talk with a backslider of his flock
whose drinking of moonshine invariably led to quarreling with his neighbors, and
occasional shotgun
blasts at some of them.
“Can’t you see, Ben,” intoned the parson, “that not one good thing comes out of
this drinking?”
“Well, I sort of disagree there,” replied the backslider. “It makes me miss the
folks I shoot at.”
|
