He laughed, and said that I did not look much like a preacher.
I did not blame him, as all the preachers he had ever been acquainted with rode on fine horses or in fine carriages, clothed in broadcloth, and had large salaries, and would see this whole world sink to perdition before they would wade through one hundred and seventy miles of mud to save the people.
The landlord wanted a little fun, so he said he would keep me if I would preach. He wanted to see if I could preach.
I must confess that by this time I became a little mischievous, and pleaded with him not to set me preaching.
The more I plead to be excused, the more determined Mr. Jackson was that I should preach. He took my valise, and the landlady got me a good supper.
I sat down in a large hall to eat supper. Before I got through, the room began to be filled with some of the rich and fashionable of Memphis, dressed in their broadcloth and silk, while my appearance was such as you can imagine, after traveling through the mud as I had been.
When I had finished eating, the table was carried out of the room over the heads of the people. I was placed in the corner of the room, with a stand having a Bible, hymn book and candle on it, hemmed in by a dozen men, with the landlord in the center.
There were present some five hundred persons who had come together, not to hear a gospel sermon, but to have some fun.
Now, boys, how would you like this position? On your first mission, without a companion or friend, and to be called upon to preach to such a congregation? With me it was one of the most pleasing hours of my life, although I felt as though I should like company.
I read a hymn, and asked them to sing. Not a soul would sing a word.