UPON one occasion, as the missionary was passing through the western portion of Clear Creek Settlement, he called at a house whose surroundings seemed familiar. The man of the house, too, appeared to him as one he had seen before, but he could not remember exactly where.

After some general remarks, he said to the man, “I almost fancy that I have seen you before to-day.”

“I suppose you have,” the man replied, with considerable agitation; and continued, “Do you not remember some time ago, standing at a gate and requesting a farmer to[99] allow you to stay all night, and being refused, and that there was another man there beside the owner of the place?”

The missionary said he did.

“And you remember, also, that you gave a little boy and girl some picture-cards and tracts?”

“I do,” said the missionary.

“And one for each of the men at the barn?”

“Yes, I well remember that.”

“I was that man,” said he, somewhat confused, “and when Mr. Steele refused to let you stay, I, like a coward, approved of it. Don’t you remember?”

“Yes, I believe you did,” gently replied the missionary.

“Yes, I did that very wicked thing, and now ask your pardon. I have had no rest since, on account of it,” said the man with emotion.

“I have long since forgiven you,” calmly[100] replied the missionary. “Such things do not move me; I count them as nothing.”

“If you had suffered what I did from them, you would count them a good deal. I heard you preach last Sunday, and if I had not been ashamed, I would have made a public confession of my wickedness. I thank God that you have come this way,” continued the humbled man with faltering voice, and stretching out his hand for reconciliation and forgiveness.

Joyfully the servant of Christ gave Mr. Kerr (whom our readers must have recognized) his hand, and their friendship was sealed.

Mrs. Kerr, who had been absent at the time of the missionary’s arrival, now came in. She recognized him at once, and welcomed him with unfeigned kindness.

“Where in the world have you been since you were here last month?” inquired the free-spoken woman. “I wondered and wondered,”[101] she continued, “what had become of you in the big storm. I expected nothing else than to hear that you got killed in that dreadful rain. It was awful! I declare I thought our house would go!”

“Oh,” pleasantly replied the missionary, “I put up without ‘leave or license,’ at a hut out on Walnut Creek, where I was taken care of.”

“Why, nobody lives out there that I know of,” said Mr. Kerr. “Let me see; was it about due west from where you left us?”

“Very nearly, I think,” said the missionary, at the same time smiling.

“Well, sir, I know of but one family that ever lived in that swampy, sickly, mosquito hole, and two or three of them died there and the rest moved away long ago,” replied Mr. Kerr, instantly adding, “What is the man’s name that lives there?”

“Indeed I cannot give the name,” answered the missionary, with such a look of mischief[102] that Mrs. Kerr declared that he was only joking. “It was at the place you mention, no doubt, that I staid. There were two graves on a hill near the house, which was in a very dilapidated condition, and the yard was overgrown with weeds and briars; indeed, everything presented the appearance of having been long deserted.”

“That was Mr. Kelly’s home once, but the mosquitoes and chills drove him out. It was well he left, or the whole family would soon have perished there. It is a poor country compared with this,” explained Mr. Kerr.

“But you said that you were well taken care of; I’d like to know who took care of you,” said Mrs. Kerr, with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

“The Lord took care of me,” he replied.

“Oh, yes, I did not think of that;” said she. “Did you keep dry in the old hut in that dreadful storm?” she added; and in the same breath continued, “Didn’t you think the[103] whole thing would blow down over your head?”

“I was pretty well sheltered from the wind and rain, but I really did think more than once that all would go down.”

“I was sure our house was gone,” earnestly resumed Mrs. Kerr, “and I expected nothing else than the death of all of us.”

“When we are ready,&r............