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The Millerites
It seems that a retired farmer, who owned a large house and several acres of stout trees near town, had made some learned calculations as to the imminent return of Chirst. This farmer, named Miller, had founded a sect called the Millerites. And they believed him when he set the exact date of the momentous event, on which date they assembled in his fields and climbed his trees attired in sheets, as instructed, to spend their last night on earth.
They were like white poppy blossoms.
In which tree was Mr. Miller himself perched? Well. some who were in the South Field said, "He's in the North Field." But inhabitants of the North Field were regaled by rumors of his honored presence in the tallest tree of the South
Field.
The night was long. It was hard to stay awake. One man lost his grip and was killed when he fell, forever losing his chance to enter Paradise. Another fellow merely broke his leg when e fell, and he stayed on the ground hollering all night. His holy peers were unwilling to select someone to climb down and help him because, if a rescue were in progress, and Christ arrived in the midst of it, those aloft in trees would be harvested and taken up, but then three instead of two would be left behind in worldly hell: the man who fell to his death, the man who was hollering and the man who got down to help him.
Well, morning came. And Mr. Miller, who had spent the night in his bed, came down and asked his wife, "What's for breakfast?"
