Mr. Clark had still a small sum left of his resources in Georgia, including the gratuitous offerings on the way from that country, and really felt that he had no need of money. When he heard of the meeting, he thought it had reference solely to the future school; but what was his surprise, and even distress, when the committee called on him that very evening, with their report, and the fifty dollars all in silver coin! He desired to treat them courteously; he respected and loved their hospitable and generous motives, but told them again and again that the people owed him nothing—that all he asked when he commenced the school was his board and clothing—that, in fact, he had no use for the money, and finally, that he might be robbed and murdered in the wilderness should he carry such an amount of wealth about him. This last objection struck the committee as having at least some practical sense in it, and after much parleying, he compromised the matter by consenting with great reluctance to receive a small gratuity as an expression of the friendship of the people.
“What a strange sort o’ man that Master Clark is,” said one committee-man to the others, as they were returning homeward after night-fall.
“Yes, he is sartin’ly mighty singular, not to take money for his labors when he arn’d it, and ’tis offered him.”
“An’t he a leetle sort o’ crack’d?” asked another. “It looks like it,” was the reply; “but, then a crack’d skull never could ’av’ managed the youngsters as he did.”
“Well, I reckon he’ll suffer for that money yet, way in that Elenoy country, ’fore he’d find a chance to get more. I b’lieve a man ought’r get all the money he can honestly, ’specially when he’s arn’d it, as Master Clark done.”
“I’m mind he’ll yet die a poor man, and it mought be he’d suffer a heap ef he lives long in that new country, and gets no money to pay ’xpenses.”
“Well, I an’t sorry we raised it, no how; for he’d orter been paid; for he’s done the childer a mighty heap of good.”
“And he’s a good man, that’s sartin’,” replied the first speaker; “and ef John Clark don’t get to the ‘good country’ he talks of when he preaches, I’m mighty fear’d nobody else will.”
And John Clark was not forgotten in Kentucky for many a year, nor his singular ways, neither. There are a few old people still living, who attended school under his instruction, who, as they express it, “never seed the like on’t.” They do not believe, with all the “new fangled ways,” and “heap o’ larnin,” and practical wisdom teachers now have, that they can come up with preacher Clark.