A Little Work at St. Anne, Ill.
By WM. COVERT
I STARTED from La Fayette, Ind., January 12, to go to St. Anne, Ill., to hold a few meetings. Arriving at the Big Four station about noon, I was told that I could not get a train that would stop at St. Anne until the next day at 8 A. M. But as I had an appointment at St. Anne that evening, I was deeply concerned about it, for I did not wish to disappoint the friends. Yet the agent positively asserted that their afternoon train would not stop at St. Anne. I then told him to sell me a ticket to Kankakee, which is twelve miles beyond St. Anne. He did so, and I got aboard the train, a fine vestibule one, which was intending to fly past the place where I wanted to go. But when we got within a mile of St. Anne, I discovered the train was slowing down, and when within twenty rods of the station it stopped still, and the brakeman opened the door, and he and the conductor got out. I then gathered up my baggage and went aground, telling the conductor that I was at my station, and would ride no farther with him. He said, "You are a lucky man, for we are blocked, and have to wait until the Eastern Illinois freight gets across our track." Well, Providence stopped the train for me to get off and meet my appointments. It stopped ten rods closer to the place where I wished to go than if it had let me off at the station. I filled all my appointments on time, preached three times, and gathered $5.25 in money in the town for missions. One evening while I was there, Brother Versailles, who is more than one hundred years old, came out to meeting and listened to the preaching. He carried a lantern to make a light for his path. I never before preached in the hearing of a man so aged. He told me that his wife, now dead but a short time, lived with him after their marriage seventy-eight years. He will probably soon fall asleep to lie beside the dust of his wife. But shorter will be their rest together in the tomb than was their sojourn together in life, for the Lord, descending from heaven, will call them from their graves on the resurrection day. Long, O, so long! then, will they live, for immortality will keep them from fading through all the endless ages yet to be enjoyed by the people of God. These thoughts are inexpressibly sweet to feed upon as we behold the infirm steps of many pilgrims who have been long in the way of obedience.