A farmer was plowing in the field. Across the plowed ground came his young son. "Father" he said, "there is a preacher up at the house, and Momma says you should come up."
"I got to finish the row first", says the farmer."What kind of preacher is he?" asked the farmer.
"I don't know" said the young son.
" Well, here's what you do, son," said the farmer. "You go back and ask what kind of preacher he is, and if he is a Catholic, you take my jug of corn squeezin's and hide it up under my bed, and if he is a Baptist, you take the sugar bowl where your Momma keeps the egg money and put IT up under the bed. And if he is a Methodist, you get in your mothers lap and stay there till I get there.