<TITLE>13. Par 131-142</TITLE>L-131 But, first thing, a--a seed planted in the ground, if it isn't germitized, it will not come up. It's got to serve God's purpose, in order to come up. And so do we. We are a germitized seed, in the ground, and we must serve God's purpose or we'll--we'll never come up in that first resurrection; come up for judgment in the last. Just like a hybrid corn, it comes up long enough to take its judgment of the sun, and dies and goes back, and that's all of it. Exactly right. But the real seed leaves the... lives again, produces itself.

L-132   Look at the sap in a tree. Before any frost falls, or anything else, that tree the... Some nature, somewhere, gets a hold of it, says, "Run down at the bottom of the tree, right quick. Get down in the ground, 'cause there's a frost coming." And if it don't, it'll kill the tree. And hides down there until all the freeze is over, then comes right back up again. Some Intelligent does it. You know what Intelligent that is? You explain that to me, what intelligence makes that tree go down, hide itself and come back up, and I'll tell you the Intelligence that tells me who you are and where you come from, what you've done and where you're going. And that's the same thing, 'cause it's the same God. Sure. Exactly. It's God that does those things. Now, remember, friends.

L-133   One day I was a hunting where I used to go hunting, up in the north woods. And I hunted with a friend, and I loved to hunt with him. He was kind of a part of an Indian, too. And he... it, Bert Call, and he's a fine man. The man might be sitting right here now, for all I know. He comes down south here all the time. And he was a great hunter. You never have to worry about him. He's not going to get lost. We hunt together and we knowed each other, but he was the cruel-hearted-est man I ever met in my life. He would shoot fawns, just to--just to make me feel bad, 'cause I didn't like to see you kill little fellows.

L-134 It's all right to kill a fawn, now, if the government says so. I was game warden, for years, and I'm still a conservationist. I--I believe in animals, and I believe in conservation. And let them just--just... If you let them keep on going on, they'll put here to eat. If you don't eat some of them out, then they're take a disease and die out, or starve to death. But just what the law says, they know how to handle that. Let them take care of it.

L-135 But Bert would kill them just to be mean, just to see me feel bad about it. He used to say, he said, "Billy, you're a good preacher, or a--a good hunter, but, trouble of it is, you are too much of a preacher. You're too chicken-hearted."

L-136 And I said, "Bert, you're just cruel, that's all." And we'd go on.

L-137   One day, I went up, it was I had to work late, and it was little getting late in the season. And the white-tailed deer, I don't know whether you have them here or not. Oh, my, you talk about Houdini being an escape artist, they're better than he. So it was late in the season; they had been shot at a few times. And we started one morning, about six inches of snow, started up across the Presidential Range.

L-138 And we taken some, always take hot chocolate and a sandwich. And about noontime, if we didn't get a deer, then we'd separate in the mountains, and come back; get in, sometime, nine or ten o'clock that night. If we got a deer, we hung him up. We knowed where we were at, and we'd come back and get him.

L-139 So that morning we went up, and so, before I left, he said, "Hey, Billy, I got something for you this year."
And I said, "What is it?"

L-140 He reached down in his pocket and pulled out a little whistle, something about the size of this. And he blew it, and it sounded like a fawn calling for its mammy; you know, the little baby deer calling for its mammy.

L-141 I said, "Bert, you wouldn't be that cruel, would you?"

L-142 He said, "Oh, you chicken-hearted preachers, you're all alike."


<A HREF="P14">Next Page</A>