Summer of the Dead: A Long Read!
O God our help in ages past Our hope for years to come Our shelter from the stormy blast And out eternal Home. Isaac Watts Depart ye cursed down to hell With howling fiends for ever dwell, ‘No more to see my face: ‘My gospel calls ye have withstood, ‘And trampled on my precious blood ‘And laughed at offered grace.’ From Hugh Bourne, A General Collection Of Hymns And Spiritual Songs For Camp Meetings, Revivals &C New Edition Revised & Improved , 1821. There is a story I have always liked, a complete work of fiction, about an old soldier who was asked on his one hundredth birthday what the secret of his longevity was. He said that it was many things but the most important was that every morning he ate a bowl of cornflakes on which he sprinkled a teaspoon of gunpowder. It didn't taste great but he felt it really cleaned out the tubes. Sadly, at the age of 102 the old soldier died and it was reported in the local newspaper tha