A farmer is out plowing when his 10 year old son comes down to the edge of the field and motions him over.
"Hey Paw. Mom says to come up to the house, 'cause the preacher's here."
"Uhh.. which preacher?", the farmer asks.
"I don't know." says the boy.

   "Well, I've got 2 more rows to finish, so you go back quick and ask. If it's the Methodist guy, you take that tin with our grocery money and put it in the closet. If it's the Catholic, you take my jug of likker and hide it under my bed..... and if it's that Baptist from town, you just sit on your mother's lap till I get there."