od that He had spared so many of their
lives, that He had been _with_ them in their sufferings.

A year ago, when we visited this hut, we found them stolid and
indifferent, caring nothing for spiritual things. The woman sat smoking
over the fire, scarcely vouchsafing us a word, and muttered to a crony,
"Wot's thet thar woman nosing 'bout yere for? She'd er heap sight better
let we uns erlone."

It was very hard to ask permission to hold prayers with them in such a
hostile atmosphere, but it is our duty to "sow beside _all_ waters," so
we proffered our request.

"Yer kin ef yer mines ter. I haint er carin'," was the ungracious reply.

But what a change _now_. The woman's face glows with a light that only
comes from the "light of the world." "God's been mighty good ter we
uns," she says. "Ef hit hedn't ben fer Him we'd er died. An' we uns air
bound ter do ez near right ez we kin, an' serve ther Lord, ther hull lot
on us."

Does it not make our own hearts glow to hear such words, and see the
wonders God hath wrought? And with thanksgiving we read and pray with
them, and strengthen their faith with God's Word. After noting their
needs, and promising to supply them from the articles sent us by
generous Northern friends, we go on to the next house.

We find the same sad state of affairs; fever-worn men and women, wasted
children, and starvation and want staring them in the face. But we find
also the same great change. God's Spirit has been working among them,
and hearts are softened and lives changed by His power. So we go from
hut to hut, until the way becomes too steep to ride, and we leave our
horses and climb, on foot, the lofty, rocky ridges.

We find men who were reckless and bad ready to listen to God's Word, and
in broken voices asking for prayers. We find women who have lived lives
of open shame penitent and contrite, showing by their abandonment of
their evil ways that they are sincere when they say, oh so earnestly,
"We uns air tryin' ter do right."

But all is not so encouraging. We must visit homes where vice reigns
supreme; where women are lost to shame, and glory in their sin; where
even the children have the "trail of the serpent" upon their young
faces; where the men are brutal and beastly, and even sickness does not
_touch_ them.

Let us call at this old log house as we pass; nestled under a high
cliff, with the creek flowing past, it looks like some ugly blot on the
"face of nature." But it is a