_MISSIONARY VISITS._
The missionary started on his visiting tour among the people of the
settlement on Tuesday morning. The first house to which he came
indicated a good share of worldly comfort. He met the owner repairing
the garden-gate, and accosted him with, “Good morning.” The man
looked at him as if hesitating whether or not to reply, and said,
“How d’ye do.” The missionary, still undaunted, made some remarks of
a commonplace nature, which were answered in monosyllables. As the
missionary felt that he had no time to waste, he came at once to the
subject of his mission.
“So you’re the fellow getting up Sunday-schools. I thought you were by
your looks; but let me tell you at once that ‘you’re barking up the
wrong tree here,’ and the sooner you ‘play quits’ the better. I have no
time to fool away in talking about such nonsense.”
“But pray tell what objections you can have to teaching the young the
Holy Scriptures?” mildly interposed the missionary.
“I just now told you that I had no time to waste in talking to idlers,
and I expect you to take the hint,” sharply retorted the unreasonable
man.
Finding that there was no chance at present to do anything with him,
the missionary bid him “Good-day,” and started. The man replied with
a triumphant “Good-bye, sir,” at the same time casting toward him a
sneering look.
As the missionary was passing the barn, he met a little girl, to whom
he gave a card for herself and another for the family.
On crossing a little stream he met a young lady on horseback; to her he
handed a tract, entitled, “Are you Saved?” A slight tremor was visible
when she read this; the question demanded an answer. Seeing how the
title affected her, he prayed God to bless the words to her salvation.
He did not go far until he came to a place where two roads crossed at
right angles; so he sat down a moment to rest and consider which road
to take. Whilst sitting, a man with a wagon and a fine span of horses
came along. His countenance bespoke a kind heart, and the missionary
rose to salute him. He responded with a hearty “Good-day,” and an
invitation to take a ride, if the stranger were going his way. The
missionary had to confess that he did not know where he was going, and
unfolded his object in visiting the settlement.
The man said that he had heard of a Sunday-school being organized at
Clear Creek, but he was not up when the meeting was held, and knew but
little of the nature of the institution. Still he would be willing to
“give the thing a trial,” if it did not _cost too much_.
“As to the cost,” said the missionary, “that will depend upon the
number of books, papers, maps and other helps you get. But I will agree
to donate to your school, if you establish one, half of a good library.”
This opened the eyes of the man to their utmost extent, and he
exclaimed:
“Why, you don’t say! That don’t look like speculating or swindling
people out of their money, as they say of you around here. I never
did believe the half I heard; it didn’t seem reasonable to me. But,”
continued he, “I don’t believe that we can make it go. Everybody I have
talked to is down on it.”
“Would you be willing to assist me, and bring your family long enough
to test the matter?” inquired the missionary.
“I’ll do my best, if things are as you say. I believe the children
ought to be instructed in the Bible the moment they are capable of
understanding it.”
“Are there any others that you think would join us in the work?”
The stranger, Mr. Wilson, hesitated, and then said; “People here seem
to be dead in regard to anything of this kind. Whether we succeed or
not, a general fight over the question will, if it can possibly stir
them up, be of some use. Make the appointment, and I’ll stir them out.”
“When shall it be?” inquired the missionary.
“Put it on Friday night; there is spelling-school in our school-house
to-morrow night, and I’ll go down and have it given out, and the whole
neighborhood will know it,” said Mr. Wilson, with great animation.
“Providence permitting, I will be there,” said the missionary.
“And give us a speech, telling all about the Sunday-school,” suggested
Mr. Wilson.
As the missionary was about to offer his hand and say good-bye, Mr.
Wilson said:
“Won’t you go with me and stay until Friday? I can accommodate you.”
“I thank you, but I will not visit the neighborhood until Friday, and
then I will come to your house and we will go to the meeting together,”
replied the missionary.
“Well, perhaps that will be best,” rejoined Mr. Wilson, and passed on.
Calling back, he said: “Take the road up the hill; it will lead you
through the most thickly settled portion of this neighborhood.” The
missionary nodded his head and took the road as directed. He met with
various successes in his itinerancy until Thursday evening, when he was
shamefully treated by a man known as ’Squire Hunt, one of the leading
men of the settlement. The missionary bore the insults meekly, but
upheld the cause of Christ manfully.
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