And so, smooth on the surface, but turbulent beneath, the stream of days flowed on until the Sunday on which Reverend Elias Smith was to preach his trial sermon. His fame as a preacher, together with the circumstances surrounding this particular sermon, had brought together such a crowd as the little church on Bull-Skin had never seen before even in the heat of the most successful revivals. Outsiders had come from as far away as Christiansburg, which was twelve, and Fox Run, which was fifteen miles distant, and the church was crowded to the doors. Sister Williams with her daughters Dora and Caroline were early in their seats. Their ribbons were fluttering to the breeze like the banners of an aggressive host. There were smiles of anticipated triumph upon their faces. Brother and Sister Sneedon arrived a little later. They took their seat far up in the “amen corner,” directly behind the Williams family. Sister Sneedon sat very erect and looked about her, but her spouse leaned his chin upon his cane and gazed at the floor, nor did he raise his head, when, preceded by a buzz of expectancy, the Reverend Elias Smith, accompanied by Brother Abner Williams, who was a local preacher, entered and ascended to the pulpit, where he knelt in silent prayer. At the entrance of their candidate, the female portion of the Williams family became instantly alert. They were all attention when the husband and father arose and gave out the hymn: “Am I a Soldier of the Cross?” They joined lustily in the singing, and at the lines, “Sure I must fight if I would reign,” their voices rose in a victorious swell far above the voices of the rest of the congregation. Prayer followed, and then Brother Williams rose and said,— “Brothahs an’ sistahs, I teks gret pleasuah in interducin’ to you Eldah Smith, of Dokeville, who will preach fu’ us at dis howah. I want to speak fu’ him yo’ pra’ful attention.” Sister Williams nodded her head in approval, even this much was good; but Brother Sneedon sighed aloud. The Reverend Elias Smith arose and glanced over the congregation. He was young, well-appearing, and looked as though he might have been unmarried. He announced his text in a clear, resonant voice: “By deir fruits shell you know dem.”