Swapping Stories.
The ministers were in the preachers' room on the afternoon of this camp
meeting day. They were scattered about in delightful abandon. Some had
thrown themselves on rough cots; others were lounging on rude benches
which served as seats; the few plain chairs which the place boasted
were also occupied. Most of the men were regaling themselves with the
fragrant Kentucky tobacco, and the blue smoke ascended in widening
spirals to the rafters above. They felt they must unbend after the
severe mental tension of the morning.
What a fine spirit of comradeship is found among a group of preachers
of one heart and mind. Can anything on earth surpass it? Here we find
the hearty handshake, the contagious laugh, faces bright with smiles, a
free flow of talk. We see hilarity without vulgarity, wit that
sparkles, but does not burn, as when a bright sally directed at some
brother's foibles is met with a quick repartee. We listen to anecdotes
which cheer and enliven the senses without hurting the conscience or
debasing the mind.
"Brother Larkin, give us a bit of wit or philosophy from 'Poor Richard'
or tell us one of your good anecdotes."
The man addressed was John Larkin. He was about thirty-five years old
and was known as the "square man" both as to body and mind. His head
seemed more square than round, and was set upon a strong neck which
rested upon square shoulders. From shoulders to the ground he was in
the form of a parallelogram. His hands were wide and short, the fingers
being of nearly equal length, giving the hands a blunt, square
appearance. His gray eyes were wide apart, having a sly and merry cast
in them, while crow lines in their corners gave them a laughing
expression. His firm mouth and square chin showed that he could mingle
seriousness with mirth. He was considerably under the average height,
but thickset and strong.
John Larkin was of New England descent. When a small boy he had moved
with his parents from "'way down East" to far-famed Kentucky. There he
helped his father clear the wilderness and make a comfortable home. At
twenty-three years of age he was powerfully converted, and soon after
became a traveling preacher.
John had stored his mind with the homely proverbs of Benjamin Franklin
and many bright sayings of other writers. He saw the ludicrous side of
things and was fond of telling anecdotes. Hence the request which a
brother minister made of him.
"About two months ago," said Larkin, "I had an appointment to preach in
a private house. The boys of the family had a pet sheep which they had
taught to butt. Going near him, they would make motions with their
heads, and the sheep would back out and dart forward at the boys; but
they would jump aside and so escape. A drunken man came into the
congregation and sat on the end of a bench near the door. He had
caroused the whole night before and presently began to nod. As he
nodded and bent forward, the sheep came along by the door and seeing
the man moving his head up and down, took it as a banter and backed and
then sprang forward, and gave the sleeper a severe jolt right on the
head, and over he tilted him. The whole congregation laughed outright
and I joined in with them."
The preachers laughed at the story as heartily as those who saw the
occurrence. One stout parson remarked: "The tipsy man surely was the
butt of that joke." A clergyman from down Cumberland River way said: "I
hope the sheep knocked drunkenness out of him and common sense and
decency into him."
Larkin, his face wreathed in smiles, turned to a great strapping
Kentuckian, and said: "Now Brother Harvey, let us hear from you."
The man addressed was well known by the company. Naturally strong he
grew up on a farm, where his out-of-doors life added to temperate
habits gave him a finely developed body. He lived with his wife and
five grown up children on a splendid quarter section of land bordering
on the Cumberland River. He was a lay preacher, cultivating his farm
week days and preaching on Sunday.
"Well, brethren," began David Harvey, "I could tell you stories of wild
Indians, panthers and wild cats that I saw in my youth, and some
tolerably trying experiences I have been through since becoming a
preacher, but today I am going to repeat a tale I heard not long ago
concerning Jasper Very. He seems comfortable there sitting on one bench
with his feet on another, and if my story lacks anything he can supply
the missing links.
"Brother Very was attending a camp meeting in the edge of Tennessee
when an incident of thrilling interest occurred. Two young men,
distantly related, sons of respectable and wealthy parents, lived in
the settlement. They were both paying attention to a very wealthy young
lady. Soon a rivalship for her hand sprang up between them, which
created a bitter jealousy in the heart of each. After quarreling and
fighting they both armed themselves, and each bound himself by a solemn
oath to kill the other. Armed with pistols and dirks they attended the
camp meeting. Brother Very was acquainted with the young men, and had
been told of the unfortunate affair. On Sunday he was preaching to a
large congregation on the terrors of the law. Many fell under the
preaching of the word. He called for mourners to come to the altar and
the two young men, deeply convicted of sin, came and knelt before God.
One entered on the right and the other on the left, each being ignorant
of the act of the other. The preacher went deliberately to each of
them, took their deadly weapons from their bosoms, and carried them
into the preachers' room. Returning he labored faithfully with them and
others nearly all the afternoon and night. These young men cried hard
for mercy, and while he was kneeling by the side of one of them, just
before the break of day, the Lord spake peace to his soul. He arose,
and gave some thrilling shouts. Jasper then hurried to the other young
man, at the other side of the altar, and he was saved in less than
fifteen minutes and, standing upright, shouted victory. As these young
men faced about they saw each other, and starting simultaneously, met
about midway of the altar, and instantly clasped each other in their
arms. What a shout went up to heaven that night from these young men,
and from almost all the number present."
This narrative strongly affected the group of ministers, and some more
emotional than others shouted: "Praise the Lord! Hallelujah!"
"Brother Very, did I tell the story right?" said Harvey.
"You told it about as it was," responded Very, "only there is this
sequel to add: one of these young men made an able and successful
preacher. After traveling a few years his health failed, and he died
triumphantly."
A sallow-faced parson from the river-bottoms remarked: "Jasper Very has
been through many trying experiences, and I am going to ask him to tell
us how he conquered that cantankerous woman by tact and muscles."
Thus appealed to, Very told the following anecdote: "Some time ago I
crossed the Ohio River into the State of Illinois where I had some
preaching engagements. On one of my tours I met a local preacher who
was a small, good natured, pious and withal a useful preacher. He had a
wife who was a noted virago. She was high tempered, overbearing and
quarrelsome. She opposed her husband's preaching, and was unwilling he
should ask a blessing at the table or conduct family prayers. If he
persisted in his effort to pray she would run noisily about the rooms
and overturn the chairs. If unable to stop him any other way she would
catch a cat and throw it in his face while he was kneeling and trying
to pray. The little man had invited several preachers to his home to
talk with the woman and bring her to a better frame of mind, but she
cursed them to their face and raged like one possessed. Several times
he invited me to go home with him, but I was afraid to trust myself. I
pitied the poor little man so much that finally I yielded, and went
home with him one evening. When we arrived I saw she was mad, and the
devil was in her as big as an alligator. So I determined on my course.
After supper her husband said very kindly: 'Come, wife, stop your
little affairs, and let us have prayers.' To this she replied: 'I will
have none of your praying about me.' Speaking mildly, I expostulated
with her, but to no use; for the longer I spoke the more wrathful she
became, and she cursed me most bitterly. Then I spoke sternly and said:
'Madam, if you were a wife of mine, I would break you of your bad ways,
or I would break your neck.'
"'The devil you would!' she said. With this she poured upon me such a
torrent of curses as was almost beyond endurance.
"'Be still,' said I, 'we must and will have prayer.' Again she declared
we should not.
"'Now,' I remarked to her, 'if you do not be still, and behave
yourself, I'll put you out of doors.' At this she clenched her fist,
swore at me, and told me I could not put her out. I caught her by the
arm, and swinging her round in a circle brought her up to the cabin
door, and shoved her out. She jumped up, tore her hair, foamed, all the
time swearing in a terrible way. The door was made very strong to keep
out hostile Indians. I shut it tightly, barred it, and went to prayer.
Under such conditions praying was difficult, I assure you, but I was
determined to conquer or die.
"While she was raging, foaming and roaring on the outside I was singing
with a loud voice spiritual hymns on the inside to drown her words as
much as possible. At last she became perfectly exhausted and panted for
breath. Then she became calm and still, and knocking at the door said:
'Mr. Very, please let me in.'
"'Will you behave yourself, if I let you in?' said I.
"'O yes,' replied she, 'I will.' With this I opened the door, took her
by the hand, led her in, and seated her by the fire-place. She was in a
high perspiration, and looked pale as death. After she was seated she
said: 'What a fool I am.' 'Yes,' said I, 'about one of the biggest
fools I ever saw in my life. Now, you have to repent of all this or
your soul will be lost.' She sat silent, and I said 'Brother C., let us
pray again.' We kneeled down and both prayed. His wife was as quiet as
a lamb. And what is better, in less than six months this woman was
soundly converted, and became as bold in the cause of God as she had
been in the cause of the wicked one.'"