s 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-doo