The progressive farmer. [volume] (Winston, N.C.) 1886-1904, 1898-05-10

those yells broke out four fold stronger
than ever, and at last old Bowers called
out:
Its no use, parson. you can't talk
against all of.us. We come here to
break up this meeting and we're going
to do it il it takes all night"
Finally the cowboys howled them
selves out, and again it became quiet.
Then the minister made one more effort
TO speak, and he started i'm to reason
with the %intruders; but they refused
to hear him, and before he had uttered
a dozen words they were whooping
ing and yelling again, and to add to
to the terror Of the situation two or
three of the boys" began to fire off
their pistols.
A good portion Of the audience left
the tent, feeling that it was no longer
safe to remain there. Oilers fidgeted
about in their seats, wishing they were
safely away, but disliking the idea of
showing c%owardice by ~retreating while
the preacher remained.
/ One brother in the tent, who was
sitting near the preacher, urged him TO
fly, but the minister only shook his
head.
"They will shoot you, sure" the
brother urged, ''if you persist in de
tying their efforts to break up the
meeting"
81 lean only do my duty, the preach
er replied. II will not forsake the COS,
pei that I-may save my life"
The brother said no more, but sat
down resigned. He knew those COW
boys and he pitied anyone who was
so reckless as to cross them. That
they would shoot the preacher he was
firmly convinced.
After awhile quiet was restored,
and again the minister attempted to
speak, but instantly the hubbub
arose in all its fury. The yells were
louder and deeper than before and
pistols popped thick and fast. Sew
eral lights were shot out, leaving the
tent in semi darkness. Others Of the
congregation stole away and went
home.
Fora moment the minister stood in
a deeply thoughtful attitude, then he
motioned to his little daughter, who
sat just below him. she came upon
the stand and he whispered q few
words in her ear. She nodded and
smiled, then, stretchieg forth her hand
to command attention, began to sing.
The song she sang was Home, Sweet
Home" At first only those immediate
ly about her heard her voice, but by
degrees the noise subsidized and her
voice reached farther out over the
tent. Within two minutes q DEATH
like stiffness reigned.
The child's voice was soft and sweet,
and I doubt if any prima donna ever
put more feeling into that dear old
cong than she put into it that night.
1t was q cry from the heart for the
old home, and not a repetition Of anoth
er's words. 1t was not q song, but q
longing desire-a piteous plea. It
went to the heart of every person in
that audience and carried him back to
other days. Even the cowboys began
to think over the past and to recall
their old homes in the east. They re
memOered suddenly the old gray haired
mother who had believed in Chris
tIanlJy and had found such comfort in
it, and OF the old father who had lived
sucha qIier, peaceful life, finding his
greatest pleasure in reading the Bible.
There was no more yelling, no more
jeering, but in breathless silence those
rough cowboys listened to that old song.
Lt had touched a tender spot in their
hearts, and had subdued and tanned
them completely, and before it came
to an end tears glistened in the eyes Of
more than one of them. At the on
clusion the minister arose and made
some appropriate remarks, keeping
his voice in tune with the sentiments
the singer had awakened. He spoke
feelingly of the old homes his auditors
had left in the east, of the happy
scenes of childhood, and Of the great
love and goodness of the old father
and mother. He carried his hearers
back to those old happy home days
whichno ever outlives. He warmed
and softened their hearts and brought
tears to their eyes.
Then he appealed to them in the
name Of Christianity, and drew a beau
uituI picture of the great heavenly
home, where many of those gray
haired parents who had been left in
the old earthly homes had gone. He