The music of the git-fiddle thrummed through the hot Georgia night, setting nerves to throbbing in the little town of Euharlee. In the harsh, yellow light of a lantern, youthful Gordon Miller cried aloud: "I ain't had this power but about a month now. But I got the power nowI got the 'nointing!" From the box beside him came the whirring buzz of a rattlesnake. Cried Miller: "The word of God says: 'In my name . . . they shall take up serpents, and if they drink any deadly thing, it shall...
To continue reading:
or
Log-In
