“It always seemed strange to me that Brother Robin was so late coming into the church. He was eighty odd, when he joined Mount Zion last year.”
The writer witnessed Uncle Robin’s baptism in Sulphur Fork Creek, near Mount Zion Church; there were eighty candidates for baptism, and Uncle Horace had his son Altheus to perform the sacred rite.
On account of Uncle Robin’s advanced age, and a very remarkable experience he had related the day he joined the church, he seemed to be a central figure of the occasion, and all eyes were turned on him, as he stood trembling at the water’s edge, pleading, “Now Brer Carr, be perticular, and don’t you drown me!”
“Be quiet Brother Northington,” he said in his characteristic dignified tone, “by the help of the Lord I will take you safely through; Brother Edwards and Brother Baldry are here to assist me and you need not fear.”
It was soon over, and his nervousness gave place to rejoicing. I don’t think I ever heard sweeter singing than went up from hundreds of colored worshippers on the hillsides surrounding Mount Zion Church, that lovely Sabbath morning, October, 1875.
[CHAPTER VII.]
“IT’S A GRAND THING TO MAKE SOMETHING OUT OF THE LIFE GOD HATH GIVEN US, BUT IT IS GRANDER STILL, TO REACH THE GREAT END OVER GREAT DIFFICULTIES.”