Such is the country, and such are the circumstances, surrounding the work here. “What has actually been done?” you ask, and it is a very natural question. Nine churches have been organized, and are doing faithful work for the Master in this region. Four schools have been wholly or partially supported by the A. M. A. for some time, and their influence is felt far and wide. In the Williamsburgh Academy, between one and two hundred bright, earnest young people gathered in the chapel for the opening exercises of the school. These scholars range in their studies from first primary to higher normal. Many teachers from other schools come here to complete their otherwise imperfect preparation for their work. The work of the academy is not that of intellectual training, with a little religion tacked on to make it palatable with Christian people; it is Christian training which the pupils receive here.
I rode with Brother Myers forty-four miles on horseback, much of the way through a driving rain-storm, to visit some stations which we could not conveniently reach by rail. At Corbin, which is to be the junction of the new railroad with the present railroad, we have a beautiful site for a church building—some lumber already on the ground—and we ought to push the building to completion at once. People came out from their cabins along the roadside as we rode past, and eagerly asked: “When are you coming to take up a meeting with us again?” Children especially crowded around our horses when we stopped, to inquire about the Sunday-school, to get a pleasant word from Bro. Myers, which he never failed to give, and to receive some little paper, or brightly colored card with a Scripture gem upon it. His pockets seemed to be always full of these children’s traps.
There are four church buildings ready to be dedicated, and two pastors, native mountaineers, one a graduate of Berea College, awaiting ordination. And so the work moves on in a wonderful way, for it is God’s way.
This is only one part of the work which the A. M. A. is pressing forward in these mountain regions. I had hoped to have space to speak of the work in Scott and Morgan and Cumberland Counties, Tenn., but cannot now. The large academy building at Mount Pleasant, Tenn., of which our readers of The American Missionary have heard an occasional word, is already completed, and will be ready for dedication in a few weeks. It is a grand building, a cause of wonderment to the simple mountain people, who ride for tens of miles to see it. I shall speak of it more at length hereafter. This school and church work is like the rising of the sun of a brighter and better day over this Cumberland plateau.
A CONTRAST.
BY A TEACHER.
It was twelve o’clock of a hot May day in the noisy Southern city. Out upon the scorching sidewalk it seemed almost impossible to escape the remorseless heat of the sun, and so I turned gladly down the narrow alleyway and climbed the rickety stairs of an old building at its end. In a little low room at the top, through whose small windows very few breezes could find their way, were the old man and woman for whom I was seeking. The room itself was so gloomy that I tried to forget both heat and weariness, and put all of cheerfulness possible into my voice as I bade them “good morning” and inquired after their health. It seemed a relief to the poor old woman to tell me of her own pain and her husband’s failing mind, and so I let her talk on, suggesting occasionally little things which might make them more comfortable, and promising aid where that was best. Gradually we came to talk of other things, and then I spoke of God and asked her if they loved him. She shook her head sadly and answered, “No, we are two poor old sinners together,” while the old man, hearing that name which to so many brings joy and peace, muttered over and over, “No hope, no hope; I’ve sinned away my day of grace.”
For a moment my heart failed me, but, after a quick prayer for help, I tried to tell them the “old, old story” so simply that the truth could reach their darkened minds. Over and over I repeated Christ’s own words, “Him that cometh unto Me I will in no wise cast out,” and then we knelt and asked the dear Father who loves all to help them. Saying “good bye” to them and promising soon to come again, I descended the stair and knocked at the door of the son’s room, which stood wide open. I was invited into the not very tidy room by a pretty-looking woman with her head tightly bandaged with a handkerchief. On inquiring her trouble she told me she was suffering from nervous headache, and, as I know something of that, I was able to suggest remedies which she said were effective. On the bed in the corner, stretched out at full length, lay her husband. The faithful wife said he was sick, but to me he looked lazy. We talked together of many things, and I found that neither this husband or wife were Christians, though she seemed very anxious to know the way. I read to them from that blessed word, the word of which God Himself said, “It shall not return unto me void, but shall accomplish that whereunto it is sent,” and with a little word of prayer left them, glad in my faith in God’s transforming power.
It was two o’clock when I reached home, and I had only time for a lunch and a short resting spell before starting to make another call, which proved to be full of pleasantness and encouragement. My friend and I were piloted on this trip by a dark-eyed, but fair-skinned girl, who was a pupil of our school. We rode as far as the street car would carry us, and then walked through country paths and fields until we reached her home. It was a luxury to rest in the easy rocking-chair in the pleasant little parlor, while fresh country breezes rustled the simple white curtains at the windows. And when, in addition to the pleasant words of greeting, clear water was brought us from the well, and large, sweet berries from the garden, we felt that our welcome was complete. After visiting for a little time, we were asked by the children if we didn’t want to see the farm, and following them out found that the farm, though not large, was carefully cultivated, and that the peas, beans, potatoes, cabbages and other vegetables which grew there, found a ready market in the great city. I have heard and seen much of the thriftlessness of the South, but here at least was thrift and prosperity. Coming back to the house we were introduced to the father, a dark-browed but fine-looking man, who by honest toil is trying to support his family, and give to his children the opportunities which shall make of them good men and women. These children are sent to the Sunday-school and day-school regularly. Can we doubt that from these they shall gain that which shall make them a blessing to their race and to the world?