I was indeed disheartened when, standing in the presence of Mr. Cutler, the principal of Mount Hermon, I related my summer experiences, but was cheered when he told me that a Christian man in Philadelphia had sent him $100 to pay the tuition of a faithful student, and he had decided to use it for my tuition fee.
Other avenues opened for me to earn a few dollars. The students who could address an audience or could lead a meeting had ample opportunity to take the services in some neighboring church where the congregation was too poor to pay the stipend of a regular minister. In this way I earned a little.
On one occasion I was sent to a country church. It was Saturday night when I reached the station, which was four miles from the village proper. Arrangements had been made with some of the church people to meet me at the depot, and to look after my welfare till Monday morning. A maiden lady about forty-five years old approached me as I left the train and inquired of me if I was Mr. King. “Yes ma’am,” I replied. She then informed me that I was to stay at her home and that the sleigh was waiting for me. I got in and she took a seat beside me. I don’t think we spoke a dozen words during the four miles ride. I was cold and so was she. When we reached the house we were met by another maiden lady, who, I should say, was fifty. She was introduced to me as a sister of my imperturbable friend. By-and-by the aged father came in. Supper was served.
The old man lighted his pipe and smoked till he fell asleep. About ten o’clock the two maidens looked in and the oldest said, “Father, it’s time for prayers.” The old man shook himself, put on his glasses and read from the Bible and then asked me to lead in prayer, which I did. When I announced that I was ready for bed, the youngest daughter took a lamp and told me to follow her. The guest chamber was as cold as a graveyard in mid-winter. Placing the lamp on a small table by the side of the bed, she said “Good night” and departed. I quickly unrobed, puffed the light out and jumped in, but quickly jumped out again and shouted “Help!” For my comfort these two dear creatures had placed a warm soapstone in my bed. Fortunately it was wrapped in woolen cloths or I should have been disabled for life. As it was, I thought my back was broken. The old farmer, followed by his daughters, hastened to my room. “What is it, Mr. King? What is the matter?” I looked at the stone on the floor and said, “Oh, nothing much. Please don’t mind me. I’m taken this way once in a while.”
For some time I could hear them laughing at my expense. Having no use for such things in tropical countries, and not being provided with them at sea, I was ignorant of the existence of the soapstone for heating purposes. I intend if ever I have to make a trip around the Horn to take along a couple of bricks and warm them in the galley stove, to be used in my bunk when below.
In answer to the third question, I will say that while holding a service in the town of Guilford, Vt., I met the minister of the Episcopal Church. He proved to be my old captain of the Kearsarge, Commander Allan D. Brown. He lived in Brattleboro, after being retired from the United States Navy. I spent many pleasant hours in his home in Brattleboro. It was he who sent word to the Episcopal City Mission that a sailor named King was at Mount Hermon, and would prove a profitable acquisition to their sailor work if they were to secure his services. I was asked by them to work in their field during my summer vacation. I accepted the call and at the close of the summer the Superintendent of the Sailor’s Haven in Charlestown held out every inducement for me to remain as his assistant. I yielded to him and here I am.
MISSION WORK AMONG SEAMEN
Mission Work Among Seamen
IN answer to my fourth question I would first repeat what I said in Dog Watches at Sea: “Missions are not what they were twenty years ago. Then they were tame and unattractive; places where seamen thought men were made ‘goody goody.’ Seamen steered clear of them then. To-day the missions have excellent concerts, full of healthy fun and frolic to influence the sailor and to satisfy his social nature; pool and billiard tables, games and a smoking room. All these things are as good there as in a bar-room.”
The important aim of a sailor’s mission is the salvation of men. It is generally admitted that the sailor is, at heart, a religious man. During my twelve years at sea and my ten years as a missionary to seamen, I have never met one sailor who did not believe in God. I do not mean that every sailor I have met was a professing Christian; that all have turned from sin and wrong-doing, and, being penitent, sought forgiveness from God; but rather that there is no doubt in their minds of the existence of God. “The Heavens declare the Glory of God, and the firmament sheweth His handiwork. Day unto day uttereth speech, and night unto night sheweth knowledge.” Can we not see that as the shepherd boy whose life was in the open saw the Heavens declaring the glory of God, so may the same impression be made on the minds of others.