Stories and Anecdotes - An Old Story

      I have heard of poor and sad congregations, but the saddest preacher I ever knew went from Posey county, Indiana, to Pike County, Missouri, (where John Hay discovered Little Breeches and Jim Bludsoe).  He was starving to death on donations of catfish, ‘possum, and a hundred-dollar salary.  Finally he made up his mind to go away.  With wet eyes, he stood up in the prayer meeting, to bid good-bye to his weeping congregation.

            “Brothers and sisters,” he said, wiping his eyes on his red bandanna handkerchief, “I’ve called you together tonight to say farewell.  The Lord has called me to another place.  I don’t think the Lord loves this people much; for none of you seem to die.  He doesn’t seem to want you. And you don’t seem to love each other; for I’ve never married any of you.  And I don’t think you love me; for you don’t pay me my salary--- and your donations are moldy fruits and wormy apples. ‘By their fruits ye shall know them.’

            “And now, brothers and sisters, I am going to a better place.  I’ve been appointed chaplain to the penitentiary at Joliet. ‘Where I go ye cannot come; but I go to prepare a place for you.’”