A week or two passed before I was able to visit this family, during which time I preached in rude log school-houses, in a ballroom, a court-house, from a "stand" erected for the purpose in the forest, and also standing on _terra firma_ at the foot of an oak-tree, the congregation being seated upon benches, or on the ground, under the shade of surrounding oaks. In the different neighborhoods that I visited, I found the same general interest in behalf of this family and their child. According to a Scottish custom, they would not call their child by the name that had been chosen for it until that name had been given to it in the sacred rite of baptism. When asked by their neighbors the name of their child, they would reply, "Oh, she has no name. She has not been baptized yet. We call her 'Baby,' or some pet name." This seemed very strange to the people, and the dear little child that was growing up _without a name_ became the object of general sympathy and interest throughout the county. There is quite a celebrated watering-place (where my mare won the two hundred and fifty dollars) some fifteen miles from their forest home, and it was thought that there might be some Presbyterian clergyman among the visitors during the summer season, and a large number of persons had promised this family that they would let them know if any such clergyman arrived at the Springs, that they might send for him to baptize their child. As soon as I was able to do so, I set out to visit this Scotch family, in whose history I had become very deeply interested. A Christian brother, residing at the county-seat and belonging to another denomination, kindly consented to accompany me, and show me the way to their residence. Our route was not over a road that had been laid out by a compass, but was the most of the way through the woods, winding its zigzag course over hill, and valley, and stream, among the tall monarchs of the forest. It was a hot day in August, but the dense foliage above us, as we rode through the "aisles of the dim woods," protected us from the heat of the sun, and our ride was altogether a pleasant one. After traveling some twelve or fifteen miles, we reached a "dead'ning," and soon were at the door of the log-cabin we were seeking.