not."

* * * * *


AMONG THE TENNESSEE MOUNTAINS.

BY EVANGELIST JAMES WHARTON.


My visit to the people among the mountains was rather a departure from
my usual work--that of preaching to the colored people. I have preached
here about two weeks, the attendance being good, and the interest
deepening as the meetings went on, until now we have more than a score
who have professed to find Jesus precious to their souls.

The condition of the natives in this vicinity is very sad. Their
ignorance and pride coupled make it almost impossible to do anything for
them. The rough roads over the rocks and mountains make it a dangerous
undertaking for them to attend church in the evenings. Several of us
started for a meeting among them on a recent Saturday afternoon, with
rubbers, umbrellas and waterproofs, prepared for mud and rain. We
crossed a rickety old wooden bridge that had been nearly washed away by
the floods, and commenced to climb the mountain side by a road that was
nearly as steep as a steeple and which wended around to nearly every
point of the compass, ever going up, over ruts and rocks, roots and
trunks of trees, now jumping across a ravine, and next climbing a fence.
At last among the thickets and brush there were some signs of life, and
we came to an opening among the trees where we saw a miserable-looking
old shanty. The first thought was, can it be possible that human beings