Some years ago when in Norway, Morris Johnson and I held a meeting on a large farm in Roleg in Numedahl. A large crowd was out at the first service. We knelt down to pray and while we were praying I heard a great commotion and when we rose from our knees we found that two thirds of the people were gone. The foreman of the King's highway was in the audience and he had said when he came out there, that those preachers were too fanatical and if he had had his gun along and had shot them, he would have done the Lord a good favor. However, I do not think that in his heart he meant as bad as it sounded, for some time later he invited us to his home and treated us with much courtesy and kindness. A number were saved and baptized and quite a nice little congregation was raised up at that place. * * * * * While we were at Sanes, Norway, Brother Morris Johnson was very sick and one evening when we arrived at our stopping place he rolled onto the bed with his clothes on, exhausted. He had been bleeding from the lungs and was so weak that I could hardly get him home. We wept and prayed and finally I said to him, "Morris, can't you get out of bed and kneel down with me and pray?" "I might," he said, "but I think the bed is the best place for me." However, he got down and said a few words and then rolled back into bed again. He wasn't able to undress all night and I was afraid to go to sleep for fear that he might leave me most any time during the night. In the morning he seemed to be somewhat rested and I said to him, "Brother Morris, we must try and get down to Sister Svenson's and get you some meat broth." (Sister S. had a delicatessen store, and Morris hadn't eaten anything for a couple of days) but he said, "I am unable to get down there nor can I eat anything." "But," I said, "You've got to get down there even if I have to carry you there on my back. You'll have to eat or I will be having to bury you somewhere among the rocks in Norway." He got up and I put my arm around him and, as luck would have it the road was down hill. We had to stop and rest several times but we got there and the Lord must have impressed Sister Svenson for she had some broth all ready made, but as she was preparing to serve it the trouble in his lungs began again and he went to the wash room. I fell prostrate on the floor crying to God for help for him. Suddenly I realized I had received faith for him and called to him, "Morris, the bleeding stops, now!" And it did. And from that time on he recovered rapidly. (When I think of that dear brother and the plight he was in, it brings tears to my eyes, even now). * * * * * A WONDERFUL MEETING AT STAVANGER