On another occasion, as I was mounting my horse to leave, the President expressed a wish that I would visit Fox Lake and establish an appointment in that village, assuring me that he had friends there, very intelligent people, who would receive me cordially and appreciate my labors. I enquired whether there were not religious services established already in Fox Lake. "Oh! yes," he replied, "but they are not up to the times. They are conducted by a Local Preacher from Waupun, a gentleman whom I greatly respect, but he is quite antiquated in some of his views." I enquired if he was free to state what these views were. He replied: "Why, sir, he retains the old notion that the world was made in six days." "Well, was it not, Judge?" "Why, certainly not," he answered, "any man at all abreast with the times knows better than that." Willing to put the Judge on the defensive whenever I could, I said; "Well, Judge, if it required more than six days, will you have the goodness to tell me just how long it did take to make it?" The Judge felt the awkward position he was in, and before he could recover I had bidden him good bye and was on my way. Nor was he less embarrassed when he came to learn that the old gentleman to whom he referred was my father.

Having spent the Sabbath at Ceresco, I now started in a southwesterly direction to explore the country along the south side of Green Lake, with the purpose to establish an appointment should a suitable location be found. After traveling about three miles, I came to a large log house, which with its surroundings seemed to say, "We have come to stay." Hitching my horse to the limb of a tree near the gate, I approached the house. I was met at the door by a lady of fine presence and intelligent bearing, who invited me to enter and be seated.

Thirty Years in the Itinerancy — Part 39

I began the conversation with the usual compliments to the weather and the beautiful country about Green Lake. Receiving frank responses to these common places, I next enquired if there were still good locations untaken in the neighborhood. Her intelligent face radiated a smile as her sharp eyes gave me a searching glance, which seemed to say, "You can't come any land-seeking dodge on me, you are a Minister." Changing the conversation, I soon found that the proprietor of the house was a Mr. Dakin, she, his sister, Mrs. White, and that she was a Methodist. At a subsequent visit to Ceresco I had the pleasure to enter her name upon the list of members.

Thirty Years in the Itinerancy — Part 39