an earthly physician, and there was no servant of
Christ, of any creed or any denomination, who ministered to the men
and women scattered through that wild region in a manner even remotely
comparable to the self-sacrificing devotion with which Dr. Stickney
ministered to them. That excellent disciple of the Lord doctored
broken spirits even as he doctored broken bodies. The essentials of
religion, which are love and service, he gave with both hands from a
full heart; the "trimmings" he left to the parsons.

These "trimmings" were, it seemed, the only things which the few
professional men of God who drifted into Medora were able to
contribute. With the exception of the Roman Catholic chapel, erected
by the Marquise de Mores as a thank-offering after the birth of her
two children, there was no church of any denomination in Little
Missouri or Medora, or, in fact, anywhere in Billings County; and in
the chapel there were services not more than once or twice a month.
Occasionally an itinerant Methodist or Baptist, whom no one knew
anything about, blew in from anywhere, and blew out again; and if he
was seen no more there were no lamentations.[20] Services of a sort
were held in the "depot," in one of the stores or in the dance-hall
over Bill Williams's saloon, but attendance was scanty.

[Footnote 20: The Dickinson _Press_ burst into verse in
describing the exploits of one of the preachers.

"Of a gospel preacher we now will tell
Who started from Glendive to save souls from hell.
At the Little Missouri he struck a new game,
With the unregenerate, 'Honest John' is its name.

"He indulged too much in the flowing bowls,
And forgot all about the saving of souls,
But 'dropped' his three hundred, slept sweetly and well,
And let the Little Missourians wander to ----
that place whose main principles of political economy are
brimstone and caloric."

But the verses tell only half the story. As Sylvane
Ferris relates it Bill Williams, conniving with Jess
Hogue to fleece the preacher, gave him the impression
that he too was losing heavily; and actually shed tears.
The preacher was heard to murmur, as he staggered into
the night, "I don't mind losing my own money, but I am