least he treated Franks as though he were. The fact was, that the Englishman did not fear him, but simply wanted to avoid trouble with him; but it was all the same to Cartmill, and gave him an excuse for making Franks all the trouble he could. He found Franks starting to build a fence one day along the line, and went out and ordered him off, and yelled after him as he went:

"You know bloody well that the line's four hundred yards further south, and if I catch yez here any more I'll cut your heart out and set it up on a sharp rock."

Of course, Franks was right about the line, but Cartmill quarreled with him until it became necessary to get a county surveyor to make a definite location and plant the corner-stone. Franks then built a fence just two feet south of the line, and as soon as he finished it Cartmill hitched onto it. This gave Cartmill the use of the fence and two feet of the Franks land. Of course, Franks didn't like this, and he tried to find some legal way to get rid of the annoyance without bringing a direct suit against Cartmill, and so he petitioned for a road to be laid out. The neighbors helped him with it, although they all knew that the road never would be traveled, and thus it was that years ago there was established a laid-out road along the brow of the Wakarusa hills, running over gullies and bluffs where no one would or could travel.

Cartmill used the lane for a calf pasture in the summer and a place to shoot rabbits in the winter, and always claimed that he had the best of the row.

To this day the lane is a rendezvous for rabbit and quail, and as the country boys tramp through it they thank all the lucky stars for the row between the English and the Irish.

The Conversion of Cartmill

The Berry Creek Methodist church was a religious institution. It didn't pretend to have any other purpose nor function than to promote the getting of religion. There was no attempt to provide amusements or recreation, nor to make the church organization a club or a cult of any kind or character. The preachers and the members simply preached the old-time religion and insisted that every human being must get religion or go to hell. They were not so particular as to whether you joined the church, although it was usually urged that persons having got religion would do so. However, as a protection to the church and to prevent cluttering up their records, it was always provided that no matter how earnestly one professed religion, he must remain on probation for six months before being taken into the church. Experience showed that this was a wise provision, since many who professed religion did not remain steadfast long enough to become members of the church, and therefore the church officials were not compelled to carry them upon their books (if they kept books) as members, nor to indulge in the humiliating process of putting them out of the church because they had become backsliders.

It must be recorded that its ministers did not temporize with sin in any form, and that drinking, card-playing, dancing and other indulgences of worldly men and women were not classified as one being more sinful than the other, but all were condemned; and the person seeking religion was urged to put the devil behind him, which meant that he must abandon all self-indulgence and worldly pleasure and dedicate his life to service and sacrifice for good. Their ministers were sometimes embarrassed when called to preach the funeral of some person who had died in sin according to the doctrines of the church; but they were usually more or less resourceful at such times, and without giving way one jot or one tittle, and without indulging in elasticity of faith, they would manage to give comfort to bereaved friends and relatives, at the same time warning all of the uncertainty of life and the necessity of preparation for death.

The principal activity of the church consisted in holding a revival meeting once a year in the Berry Creek school-house, and during the winter of which this is written the meeting commenced early. Crops had ripened early in the fall, so that the corn was practically all shucked and in the crib by Thanksgiving time; potatoes and other vegetables had been gathered and cared for, and apples stored away in cellars or sealed up in great holes made in the ground. The meeting started off well. For some reason a good attendance was present the first night, and the preacher clustered his sermon and exhortation around the inquiry, "Where will you spend eternity?" It is not an exaggeration to say that during the next day hundreds of people, either directly or by grapevine-method, told others of the eloquence of the minister and of his earnestness, and of the fact that there seemed to be in the atmosphere of the meeting the presence of the Holy Spirit that stirred them all in a wonderful way.

The weather was pleasant and the attendance at the meetings increased, as night after night the revival spirit animated those in attendance. After some days of good weather a rainy period set in, and this continued more than two weeks; but this did not halt the attendance nor dampen the fire that had been kindled at the meetings. Early in the evening the roads and trails would be full of persons afoot, on horseback, or in wagons, all happy and more or less noisy, making their way through the mud to the little school-house. The building would be crowded, and the windows thrown up so that persons standing on the outside under the eaves could hear and see all that was going on, and occasionally take part in the songs or exclamations which made up more or less of the service.

John MacDonald was trying to teach school during the daytime in the building, but he was having a hard time of it. He was his own janitor, and when he would come to build a fire in the morning and find two or three inches of mud on the floor, and all of his kindling and ready fuel burned up, he would sometimes be exasperated. In fact, one evening at the meeting, among those who stood outside, it was reported that MacDonald had complained to the board, and a new convert expressed the sentiment of those present when he said:

"Hell, John's all right; but he's a damn Presbyterian, and can't be expected to know much about getting religion."

Someone rebuked the speaker for using profanity, since he was one of the converts; and modifying his language, he said:

"I'm durned if it ain't purty hard to quit swearing, but I'm doing the best I can, and I think if this meeting runs on another week I'll be all right."

The meetings continued, and finally the rainy weather suddenly terminated, and the temperature went down lower and lower, until by Christmas time the thermometer showed zero weather, and day after day it was cold enough that sun-dogs followed the sun all day long.

As the weather grew colder the meetings grew warmer. Practically everyone for miles around attended, and the most of them got religion. It was no unusual thing for awkward country lads who had never made a public address, to stand up and in eloquent though trembling voice profess their change of heart and their desire to do right, and without embarrassment exhort their friends to join them. Modest women who scorned unseemly conduct or notoriety would go up and down the little room urging those whom they knew to take advantage of the promises of God; and if they did at times shout and cry out, or jump up and down, or throw themselves upon the floor or the bench used for an altar, it was all because of the exaltation of the hour and a part of their good intent and good purpose. A dance in the neighborhood was simply out of the question, and it would have been hard to find a playing-card left unburned; and in their efforts to put away worldly things, many tobacco-soaked men gave up the use of the weed. One night a convert told of his experience in this behalf, and said he had had some awful dreams, and one was that he was sitting on a hill north of the Wakarusa Valley,