Bushy-headed, bearded farmers and woodsmen began ramming their grimy hands into the hip pockets of their "blue drillin' overhauls," in which sequestered quarters were prone to hide their "long twist" and homemade cob pipes.

After injecting an ample amount of "long twist" into the cob pipe's empty stomach and lighting a match thereto and sending a few initiatory puffs into the air, these mountaineers made off in the darkness toward their homes in different directions.

Some went in groups, some by twos, some singly.

Seen from a distance in the blackness of the night these companies resembled a regiment of glow-worms in a potato patch.

From over the flint hills in the distance came the familiar rattle and rumble of old-fashioned lumber wagons whose occupants had come far to hear the much-discussed preacher from "over east." Now and then the night air was pierced by hideous yells and whistles from roguish boys dashing along on horseback, whose popularity depended on the amount of noise they made.
Is the offense of the cross ceased?
Nay, verily; they that "live godly in Christ Jesus shall suffer persecution." So say the Scriptures, and so thought Evangelist Blank as he lay down to rest that night after he had closed the testimony-meeting.