nd any good."

That was my first lesson in suppressing my natural feelings. As the
years went by I had more lessons in it than in anything else. And I
reckon it is not such a bad thing to do, for if one's natural feelings
are suppressed long enough one develops supernatural feelings and feels
surer of having a soul.

The donation party poured in, Sister Glory White and I standing between
the kitchen table and the fireplace to receive them. William acted as
master of ceremonies, conducting each man and woman forward with great
_empressement_ for the introduction. Everyone called me "Sister
Thompson" and laid a "donation" on the table in passing. I was not
aware at the time of their importance, but as William only received two
hundred and forty-five dollars for his salary that year we should have
starved but for an occasional donation party. In fact, they are
smiling providential instances in the memory of every Methodist
itinerant. Upon this occasion they ranged from bedquilts to hams and
sides of bacon; from jam and watermelon rind preserves to flour, meal
and chair tidies. One old lady brought a package of Simmons' Liver
Regulator, and Brother Billy Fleming contributed a long twist of "dog
shank"--a homecured tobacco. The older women spread the viands for the
"infare," as the wedding dinner was called, upon the table, and we
stood about it to eat amid shouts and laughter and an exchange of wit
as good natured as it was horrifying to bridal ears.

"So," said a huge old Whitman humorist that I afterward identified as
Brother Sam White, as he clasped both my hands in his, "this is Brother
Thompson's new wife"--as if I were one of a series--"you are welcome,
ma'am. He's been mightily in need of a wife to perk him up. He's a
good preacher, but sorter like my young horse Selim. There ain't a
better colt in the country, only he don't show it; sperit's too quiet
unless I lay a cuckle bur under his tail. And your husband, ma'am,
what he says is good, but he don't r'ar and pitch enough. He can't
skeer young sinners around here with jest the truth. He must learn to
jump up and down and _larrup_ 'em with it!"

All this was delivered in a bellowing voice that fairly shook the
feathers in my hat. And it indicates the quality of William's ministry
and the ideals of his congregation.

CHAPTER II

I BUILD FOR MYSELF A MONUMENT MORE ENDURING THAN BRASS

As Sister Glory White had predicted, I "came down to i