RATTLESNAKE GOSPEL fer JACOB JOB Way down in the State of Old Kentuck, The hardest place that e'er was struck, There lived a man named Jacob Job, The meanest on this mundane globe. He cared not for God or man, Except his wild and wicked clan. He had six boys, both big and bad, Who followed right behind their dad. They drank that Wildcat Whiskey down, And painted red the country town. He had six daughters, buxom gals, Who danced and capered with their pals. They laughed and frolicked o'er the hills And, sometimes, tippled at the stills. Then, one day an awful rattlesnake Bit the oldest boy, Big Wicked Jake. And through his veins the poison flew; "He's going to die, what can we do?" They sent a runner to the town To fetch in haste, old Parson Brown; A Dutchman of John Wesley's band, As fine as any in the land. He prayed a curious, wondrous prayer, With words of faith and wisdon rare. Whether in heaven it reached or not, On earth it surely hit the spot. Oh Gott, we thank Thee for dis snake. that thou has sent to bite old Jake. To fetch him down from his high hoss, and lead him to the savior's cross. He would not mend his wicked way, until kind providence today. Now oh Lord the great I AM. Please send another to bite old Sam And Jock and Shawn, der vurst of rakes, Oh, Gott! we need more rattlesnakes! And send de biggest on the globe To bite ole Pappy, Jacob Job. And his vife, she need vun too; Perhaps a copperhead vould do. And chicken snakes to bite the gals, and all dere dancing, vicked pals. And now, Oh Gott before too late, Please hurry up dose Gospel snakes, And safe dis ole Kentucky State, And hear dis prayer for Jesus sake. Amen Jacob Job 1737-1808 This poem is older than my grandparents by many generations. It is also known as The Dutchman's Prayer. It was sent to me by an old Jobe, as told to her by another old Jobe...funny how that happens. Randy

Randy Thanks for the lovely (?) poem. Since my gran'pa was born in Kentukk and my great-grandparents lived there it seems a likely story ! ! Hope all is well with you and stays that-a-way. I seem to be surviving okay----but I'll be aware of ANY kind of snakes. Take good care Sam ----- Original Message ----- From: "Randy Jobe" <[email protected]> To: <[email protected]> Sent: Saturday, January 24, 2004 5:28 PM Subject: [JOB] Rattlesnake Gospel > RATTLESNAKE GOSPEL fer JACOB JOB > > Way down in the State of Old Kentuck, > The hardest place that e'er was struck, > There lived a man named Jacob Job, > The meanest on this mundane globe. > > He cared not for God or man, > Except his wild and wicked clan. > He had six boys, both big and bad, > Who followed right behind their dad. > > They drank that Wildcat Whiskey down, > And painted red the country town. > He had six daughters, buxom gals, > Who danced and capered with their pals. > > They laughed and frolicked o'er the hills > And, sometimes, tippled at the stills. > Then, one day an awful rattlesnake > Bit the oldest boy, Big Wicked Jake. > And through his veins the poison flew; > "He's going to die, what can we do?" > > They sent a runner to the town > To fetch in haste, old Parson Brown; > A Dutchman of John Wesley's band, > As fine as any in the land. > > He prayed a curious, wondrous prayer, > With words of faith and wisdon rare. > Whether in heaven it reached or not, > On earth it surely hit the spot. > > Oh Gott, we thank Thee for dis snake. > that thou has sent to bite old Jake. > To fetch him down from his high hoss, > and lead him to the savior's cross. > > He would not mend his wicked way, > until kind providence today. > Now oh Lord the great I AM. > Please send another to bite old Sam > > And Jock and Shawn, der vurst of rakes, > Oh, Gott! we need more rattlesnakes! > And send de biggest on the globe > To bite ole Pappy, Jacob Job. > > And his vife, she need vun too; > Perhaps a copperhead vould do. > And chicken snakes to bite the gals, > and all dere dancing, vicked pals. > > And now, Oh Gott before too late, > Please hurry up dose Gospel snakes, > And safe dis ole Kentucky State, > And hear dis prayer for Jesus sake. Amen > Jacob Job 1737-1808 > > This poem is older than my grandparents by many generations. It is also known as The Dutchman's Prayer. It was sent to me by an old Jobe, as told to her by another old Jobe...funny how that happens. > Randy > > > ==== JOB Mailing List ==== > To unsubscribe, put unsubscribe in message: > List mode: [email protected] > Digest mode: [email protected] > > ============================== > Gain access to over two billion names including the new Immigration > Collection with an Ancestry.com free trial. Click to learn more. > http://www.ancestry.com/rd/redir.asp?targetid=4930&sourceid=1237 > >

LOL--how about that!! Do we know how much is actually true? Patti Jobe RATTLESNAKE GOSPEL fer JACOB JOB Way down in the State of Old Kentuck, The hardest place that e'er was struck, There lived a man named Jacob Job, The meanest on this mundane globe. He cared not for God or man, Except his wild and wicked clan. He had six boys, both big and bad, Who followed right behind their dad. They drank that Wildcat Whiskey down, And painted red the country town. He had six daughters, buxom gals, Who danced and capered with their pals. They laughed and frolicked o'er the hills And, sometimes, tippled at the stills. Then, one day an awful rattlesnake Bit the oldest boy, Big Wicked Jake. And through his veins the poison flew; "He's going to die, what can we do?" They sent a runner to the town To fetch in haste, old Parson Brown; A Dutchman of John Wesley's band, As fine as any in the land. He prayed a curious, wondrous prayer, With words of faith and wisdon rare. Whether in heaven it reached or not, On earth it surely hit the spot. Oh Gott, we thank Thee for dis snake. that thou has sent to bite old Jake. To fetch him down from his high hoss, and lead him to the savior's cross. He would not mend his wicked way, until kind providence today. Now oh Lord the great I AM. Please send another to bite old Sam And Jock and Shawn, der vurst of rakes, Oh, Gott! we need more rattlesnakes! And send de biggest on the globe To bite ole Pappy, Jacob Job. And his vife, she need vun too; Perhaps a copperhead vould do. And chicken snakes to bite the gals, and all dere dancing, vicked pals. And now, Oh Gott before too late, Please hurry up dose Gospel snakes, And safe dis ole Kentucky State, And hear dis prayer for Jesus sake. Amen Jacob Job 1737-1808 This poem is older than my grandparents by many generations. It is also known as The Dutchman's Prayer. It was sent to me by an old Jobe, as told to her by another old Jobe...funny how that happens. Randy