Camas Prairie chronicle. [volume] (Cottonwood, Idaho) 1901-1917, 1910-12-09
CHAPTER I.


The revival in Paradise Valley, con-
Quoted by the Reverand Silas Crafts,
ef South Tredegar, was in the middle
of it's second week, and the field-to
use Brother Crafts own word-was
white to the harvest.
Little Zoar, the square, weather
tinged wooden church at the head of
the valley, built upon land donated to
the denomination in times long past
by an impenitent but generous Major
Dabney, stood, little way back from
the pike in a grove of young pines.
By half past six of the June evening
the revivalists congregation had begun
to assemble.
Those who came farthest were first
on the ground; and by the time -
year-old Thomas Jefferson, spatting
barefooted up the dusty pike, had
reached the church house with the key,
there was a goodly sprinkling of un-
hitched teams in the grove, the horses
champing their feed noisily in the wag-
on boxes. and the people gathering in
little neighborhood knots to discuss
gravely the one topic uppermost In all
miDds-the present outpouring of grace
on Paradise Valley and the region
roundabout.
Dye reckon the Elderll make it this
time with his brother-in- law?" asked
tall, flat-chested mountaineer from the
Pine Knob uplands.
Samantha Parkins, she allows that
Caleb has done sinned away his day
O. grace" said another Pine Knobber,
"butv amt goin' that far. Caleb's
sight like the iron he makes in that
old furnace O. his'n-honest and even
grained and just as good for plow-
points and the like as 1t is for soap
kittles. But hot r cold, it's just the
same, We cayn't change hit, and We
cayn't change him."
That's about right" said a third.
1T looks to me like Caleb done sot his
stakes where he's goin' to run the fur
row. If Twin a dozen years and mo-
with such a sancterfied woman as Mar
tina Gordon won't make out to toll
man up to the pearly gates, allow
the amt no preacher goin' to do It."
''Well, now; maybe that's the rea-
son." drawled Japheth Pettigrass, the
only unmarried man in the small cir
Gle of listeners; but he was promptly
put down by the tall mountaineer.
Hold on thar, Japhe Pettigrass! I
allow tn amt no dyed-in- the wool
hawss- trader like you goin' to stand
up and say anything ag'inst Marthy
Gordon while I'm a-listenin'., I'm rec
ollectin' right now the time when she
sot up day and night for more n
week with my Malviny."
Thomas Jefferson had opened the
church house doors and windows and
was out among the unhitched teams
looking for Scrap Pendry, who had
| been one of score to go forward for
prayers the night before. So it hap
Pened that he overheard the f1at-chest-
| ed mountaineer's tribute to his moth
er. 1t warmed him generously; but
there was a boyish scowl for Japheth
Pettigrass. What had the horse trader
been saying to make it needful for Bill
Layne to speak up as his mothers de-
fender? Thomas Jefferson recorded a
black mark against Pettigrass' name,
and went on to search for Scrap.
What you hiding for?" he demand
ed, when the newly made convert was
discovered skulking in the dusky shad-
ows of the pines beyond the farthest
| outlying wagon.
Il amt hidin'," was the half defiant
answer.
Come on out where the folks are"
urged Thomas Jefferson. "Sim Can
trell and the other fellows are ailowin'
| you're afeard."
II amt afeard," denied the convert
mo; but you're sort O. 'shamed, and
that's about the same thing, I reckon.
Come on out; I'll go long with YOU"
Then spake the newborn love in the
heart of the big, rough, country boy.
! II cayn't understand how you can hold
out Tom-Jeff. I've cobe thoo', praise
the Lordl but jest natchelly got 70