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Memories of a Long Life                                            27

son could I get to help me dress the dead woman, but I helped and waited on five that died.  I did all I could the fall that the diphtheria was so bad.  Mr. John Elkins had four children, all died; Mr. Jasper Foushee had five, four died in just a few weeks; all had a hope of a home in heaven.  One 11 years died in my arms, so happy.  One that never made a profession of Christ plead with me to pray for her.  I got down on my knees by her bed.  I plead with God to spare her as he did the fig tree, give her time to repent.  He did, she got up and lived several months.

 

            I was asked to go to Moore County to teach a school, a few days after Christmas, at a place called Horse Shoe.  I went, had a big school, that is, a great number of scholars, only a few could read or write.  I taught for five months.  Not a scholar that had a Bible, not but one that had ever read one.  There were but three families that owned their homes.  I gave two Testaments and they read the first chapter with my help.  Well, when the winter broke, the man that I boarded with (not a professor) proposed to me to have a Sunday school, said there was no church, and as it was in the bend of the river some would go fishing on Sunday.  I did, and my little schoolhouse could not seat near all that were there during the next weeks.  All the scholars that could work built a brush arbor, got slabs from an old saw mill and made seats.  Well, all the school children, with many of their parents and old people, came, and it was interesting; I believe it did good.  Not long after I wrote to Mr. Ben Watson, a Baptist preacher, to come, which he did, and preached one Sunday.  Well, I closed my school with acting and dialogues.  I spent a week or more visiting all; that is, what was called the poor working people.  There were eight or ten families that were tenants, for they did not own their homes.  I made a call or visit to all.  I took my Bible.  I never found one Bible.  I found one Testament.  I went to one widow, her mother a widow; she told me she had never attended church; her mother said it had been fifteen years since she had been, that was when she lived near Bear Creek. To walk now it was so far; she was old and could not walk. The daughter said I brought the only and first Bible that was ever in her house, and I was the only person that ever prayed or had ever told her that she had a soul to save.  Her heart was touched and made tender with a little love and kindness.  When I bid her goodbye both her eyes were full of tears raining down her cheeks.  I never saw her or any of her people again, but the neighborhood got a church built in 1886, just 100 years after Bishop Asbury first came into North Carolina, but I cannot tell of the first Sunday school.  I was given a school at Providence for five months; Rev. John Tillet was on the charge.  I let my