Southern Christian Advocate

THE PREACHER'S VISIT.

Upwards of thirty years ago, when the State of New York was sparsely settled, the Rev. Orin Doolittle, was a travelling Methodist preacher. In going his round, from family to family, (as there was no church edifice,) the preaching was done in private houses. One day, on arriving at a house where he expected to preach, he was told that there was a family some miles distant who said, "they should not give any thing to support the minister, as he was too proud to come to see them." He immediately mounted his horse and started off, in the goodness of his heart, to disabuse their minds of that idea.

When he arrived at the house, he asked the owner, "Have you any hay for my horse?" "No," was the reply. "Have you any corn?" "No." "Have you any bran?" "No." This was hard, he could not return; his horse must go without supper. He now entered the house. The mistress of it was sitting by the fire, carding blue wool, and by her side on the hearth, stood a large pan of buckwheat batter (for cakes in the morning) uncovered. Well, said Mr. D., "I thought to myself I will only take a cup of tea for breakfast." I rose very early, but the good dame was already astir. so I went out to water my horse. A boy of the family showed me a small pond, where the pigs rooted, the geese swam, and it was so dirty that my horse would not drink. "Is this the only place to get water?" I asked. "Yes, sir." "And where do you get the water for family use?" "Here, sir." I thought of the tea, and was quite too sick to want any; so entering hastily, I told Mrs. —. that I did not feel very well, perhaps a ride before breakfast would do me good. She pressed me to stay, but I could not, and bidding them "good morning," I rode off, and never troubled them again.