uld make
herself one of them. William, who did not suspect the presence of the
dog, grew faintly alarmed, but I persevered till the last man staggered
surfeited from the feast. It was my first and, I may add, almost my
only triumph as a minister's wife on a backwoods circuit.

After the night service it was arranged that we should go home with the
Salters to spend the night. Sister Salter was the woman who had
received the blessing. Brother Salter was not a brother at all--he was
still in the world, a little, twopenny man with a thin black beard, sad
black eyes and a perch mouth. But he was not proud of his godless
state, especially as it compared with his wife's radiant experience; he
was literally an humble sinner and showed it. We took our places
behind them in split-bottom chairs in the one-horse wagon. Sister
Salter was still in her baptismal mood and, as we rumbled on into the
deepening twilight through the sweeting spring woods, she continued to
sing snatches from the old hymns. Higher and higher her fine treble
voice arose till the homing birds answered and every living thing in
the forest felt the throb of the poignant melody--everything except the
baby on her breast. It slept on as soundly as if it breathed her peace
into its soft little body.

Night had fallen when we reached the house, a one-room log cabin.

"Light and go in," said Brother Salter. "I reckon the children air all
in bed. You 'uns kin ondress and git in while me and Sally unhitches
the horse."

We "lit" and entered the large room flooded with moonshining. There
was a bed in each corner, and all occupied save one. This was
evidently the "company bed." We knew by its opulent feather paunch, by
the white-fringed counterpane and by the pillow-shams bearing soporific
mottoes worked in turkey-red thread. One could not tell the age of or
how many persons were already asleep in the other beds; but, judging
from the number and varying sizes of the shoes that staggered and
kicked up on the floor beside them, there must have been a hearty
dozen, ranging all the way from adolescence down to infancy.

It is needless to add that we were apparently asleep and the covers
over my horrified head when the elder Salters entered. Where they
slept is still a mystery. But we were awakened very early the next
morning by the sound of Sister Salter's voice singing, "His loving
kindness, oh, how good!" as she rattled the stove doors beneath the
coo