was over, and it was some time before it was over, for
the crowd had to be fed, we assembled for worship. The congregation was
too large for the little room, so the men built a beautiful arbor out
of bamboo cane. When Maddox told me we were to hold services under an
arbor I was dissappointed, for somehow there had come over me a great
desire to speak from that large pulpit in the little room. My
dissappointment was short-lived, however, for when we reached the arbor
there were the pulpit and the lace-covered chairs! It was a gracious
service. The Spirit of the Lord was upon us. The sermon lost none of
its effect from the fact that it had to be interpreted, because Maddox
interpreted it with sympathy and power.

After preaching, four were received for baptism. They were not
converted at this service, but had been expecting to come for some
time. Maddox baptized them in the spring branch, which had been
deepened by a temporary dam being thrown across it. One of those
baptized was a woman ninety years of age.

Our time was growing short now. Maddox changed his clothes in a hurry.
We had to catch the four o'clock train. We did stop long enough to
drink a cup of Brazilian coffee. Such coffee! I will not attempt to
describe it, because our friends in the States can not understand.
There is nothing like it in this country. We took time, too, to say
good-bye. The whole crowd lined up and we went the length of the line,
bidding everyone a hearty godspeed. The Brazilian not only shakes hands
with you, but he embraces you heartily. Yes, some of the good matrons
embraced us. It was a novel experience for me, but a mere custom with
them, and the act was performed with such modest restraint that any
possible objectionable features were eliminated. Having said good-bye
to them all we mounted our gray ponies, and, led by our barefooted
friend, rode away with thanks-giving in our hearts for the good
fellowship with the saints of Parahyba do Sul.

The tie of love for a common Lord had bound our affections to them.
Their simple-hearted sincerity and devotion had helped us. Their zeal
had contributed to our faith. One incident touched me especially. Just
before breakfast a little girl about four years of age, led by her
mother, brought to us a package containing some Brazilian cakes. When
we opened the package there lay on top a piece of folded paper on Which
was written: "How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him that
bringe