The Pulaski citizen. [volume] (Pulaski, Tenn.) 1866-current, 1883-01-18
An Ugly Mistake
Oddly Corrected. {,
By CARL CARLTON.

MKY FATHER spent the create
" part of his life in the sell
LIsN denying work of pionee
/ S6sS0 preacher in what was the ia
west forty years ago. 1t was a lif
full of events, chiefly of a disagree
able sort. There were long horse
back journeys to make, unknown
fstreams to ford, miles of corduro,
roads to traverse; there wer,
churches to be formed out of tn
crude materials offered by the new
settlements; there were churches t.
be strengthened by the galvanit
treatment of a protracted meeting
Every man of those early workers
did enough to send half a dozen o
their less hardy successors to the
seaside in pursuit of health. MOI
infrequently, too, there were Incl.
dents that smacked disagreeably 81
adventure. One such, that befell
my father while on a journey to
supply temporarily a vacant church
will be thought, trust, worth hear
ing.
The place in question being fifty
miles distant, he took two days on
the trip. Toward the evening Of
the first day, the road being new to
him, he began to inquire, according
to his custom, whether any good
Presbyterian brother lived in the
vicinity.
1t was billy, thinly peopled dis
trict of southeastern Indiana, where
church distinctions seemed to be
entirely ignored, which even the
most sanguine circuit-rider had ap-
parently not had the heart to under
take.
Finding the chance of other hos
pitality rather slender, our traveller
passed on in search of a tavern, to
which he had been directed, but
which, like an ignis .fatuus, still re-
treated as he advanced; till at
length darkness came upon him,
with long stretch of lonesome road
yet before him. An unfenced wood,
without sign of habitation, lay on
either side of him. The sky was
overcast, and it wonld presently be
as dark in the wood as at the bot
tom of a well.
Really, the prospect was not in
spring. The tired horse was urged
into a brisk trot, and it was yet
barely possible to keep the track,
when the welcome glimmer of
light appeared ahead. In few
moments more the rider thankfully
at dish ounted low rail-fence.
Guided by the light, he made his
way to a cabin door, rather ex
tensive' experience teaching that it
was better to have his proposed
host face to face than to trust to- a.
more distant parley. - 4.
His knock was promptly answered
by gaunt, hardvisaged woman of
perhaps sixty. She seemed either
to have expected some one else, or
to be displeased at seeing him, but
he was not surprised at that.
He put his case as forcibly as
possible, laying special stress upon
the weather prospect.
81 reckon you are stranger
round here" returned the person
addressed, slowly; cor you wouldn't
stop at this house, even to escape
storm-leastways, if you're
preacher. But for all as is said of
me and my son, ! wouldn't turn
dog out this kind of a night. So
you can come in, though you won't
find much but a shelter" The
guest asked nothing more, but Dor
rowed a candle, proceeded to quarter
his horse in what was left of dis
tant log-stable. Returning to the
house, he found the old woman in
so-far better than her promise that
she was preparing some corn-bread
and bacon for his supper. He in
quired about herself and family, &C
cording to the universal western
custom, and was rather taken back
to learn that his hostess lived alone,
her son, the only surviving member
of her family, having been forced
to leave the country on account of
an undeserved prejudice against
him.
The ground of this prejudice was
not very clearly made known; but
the questioner readily guessed, even
from the mothers partial account,
that the young fellow was probably
a scamp. He pitied her the more,
for, though bitter and sore at heart
from the cruel treatment of herself
and son, she seemed not to be bad
woman.
After a somewhat scanty supper
of corn-bread and fat pork, my
father took from the saddle-bag
well-worn bible, and with the tact
acquired by long experience, began
to talk to this poor creature, whose
lot seemed so desolate, of that Di-
vine Friend who was Himself reviled
and prosecuted in this world, read
ing appropriate passages.
The hard lines of the woman
face softened as she listened; she
seemed quite touched by what was
to her almost a new revelation of
compassion and sympathy. Then
the simple prayer at the end, in
which the absent son was kindly re
membered for the first time, per-
haps. by any one but his mother,
did m re for her than all the rest.
Seeing the cabin consisted of but
one room, in which was a single
bed, an absorbing question Of pro
priety would have suggested Itself
to some people-to Mr.. Pickwick.
for instance, remembering the lady
with the yellow curl-papers; but a
backwoods preacher was used to
every sort of makeshift in the way
of lodging. Without any hesitation
he camped down in one corner, with
his saddle-bags for pillow and his
great coat for mattress, and went to
sleep, leaving the lady to manage
her part of the problem in her owr
way.
| Wearied by his days ride, my
father slept the sleep of the just til
past midnight, oblivious of tn,
heavy rain that fell meanwhile, anC
of certain mysterious sounds tina
began, about twelve o'clock, to ex
cite the liveliesL protest from tn,
wolfsh-looking cur who had beer
turned out of the cabin at behtim,
to act as sentinel. He never woke