e Darrow and William Jennings Bryan argued the question of
evolution pro and con. Or when you know that at the little town of Model
across the Tennessee River from Calloway County, Kentucky, a quiet
minister by the name of James M. Thomas, prints his little paper from
his own handmade type on his own handmade press. It is a tiny paper
called _The Model Star_ and it reaches the far corners of the earth.
Most of its content is of a religious nature, though there are a few
advertisements. While it brings the minister little in financial return
he finds his recompense in the enthusiasm of readers scattered from
Pitcairn Island to Cairo, Bucharest, and Shanghai.

Tennesseans have a way of doing unusual things. And they are a religious
people, especially those who have spent their lives in mountain coves.
There's Sergeant York. He admits he sowed his wild oats in his youth.
"We drinked and gambled," he says, "and we cussed and fit." But when
this giant mountaineer's eyes were opened to the evil of his ways, after
the death of his father, Alvin C. York forsook his old habits once and
for all. When the World War came he declared himself a conscientious
objector. His church--the Church of Christ in Christian Union--held that
war was a sin. York had a terrific struggle deciding his duty between
God and patriotism. He loved his God. He loved his country. He made
every effort to obtain exemption because he firmly believed it a sin to
fight and to kill, even for the sake of one's country. But for all that,
he could not gain exemption. Whereupon York went alone into the
mountains and fervently prayed for guidance. When the voice of God
pointed the way he followed, with the result that all the world knows.

"You might call my escape from death purely a matter of luck, but I know
different," he says. "It was faith in God that kept me safe. I prayed
that day alone on the mountain and asked Him to bring me back home alive
and well and He did. I knowed He would. That's what faith in God will do
for a man."

Alvin York is a true mountain man. He seeks neither praise nor
self-glory. Upon returning from the World War he spurned a fortune in
pictures and vaudeville appearances, refusing steadfastly to
commercialize his war record. And with the same determination he
declined to sell out to small politicians who tried to use him when he
undertook to raise funds to start a school for mountain boys and girls.
Knowing the need of the young peopl