Mr. Trainer, like Mr. Beaver, went to the central city of his area and located on a main street. His "compound" was a tiny rented house, with a pocket-handkerchief-size courtyard. He did no building at all, and his few rooms were sparsely furnished. Books were the only things he seemed to own. There were books everywhere, said his callers, but not much else--some perfectly ordinary furniture, and that was all. He had no street chapel, and no paid workers brought in from the outside; but day by day he set a table and a few stools in his gateway, covered the table with attractive Gospel literature printed in the language of the people, and there he sat and read. Passersby stopped to examine his books. One and all received an attractive Gospel tract, and had the message explained in simple language as long as they cared to listen. Some bought Gospels and other booklets. A few got into the habit of dropping by every evening, when work was done; and Mr. Trainer taught them to sing Gospel songs and choruses, and read the Word with them. At other times he went from shop to shop, giving out tracts, and inviting people to call when they had time. The compound of Mr. Trainer was tiny, compared with that of Mr. Beaver. He had no school, and no church building. He did not even hold church services at first--who was there to come? Not another Christian in all that area. He did not attract huge crowds. He did not spend large sums of money, nor employ large numbers of people. People did not come to him for financial assistance--what would be the use, when he did not seem to have any more money than anyone else? But he attracted a few, a few "whose heart the Lord opened," and day by day he taught them more about the Saviour. It was a full year before he had a baptismal service. The numbers baptized were far smaller than those baptized by Mr. Beaver, but the joy in his heart was just as real.