When I arrived home from Hawick, there was a letter from an old brother about 80 years of age living at Norway Lake, Minn. He said, "The Lord has been telling me that you ought to go to Belgrade and hold them a meeting, and I am sending you the carfare." So I went. Another time I was holding a meeting north of Belgrade and staying with Brother and Sister Andrew Larson. The night before leaving that locality I dreamed that when I came to Belgrade, I saw a man go into the depot just ahead of me, and as he stepped away from the ticket window he said, "Ha, ha, ha, I may as well go home then, since there is no train until three o'clock this afternoon." Brother Larson was to take me to the depot early in the morning, and it was cold. When telling them my dream they laughed, and we all laughed. They said, "It can't be that bad." It was about six miles to town and riding in an open buggy, I got cold, and when we got within about a quarter mile from town, I said, "You had better let me out here and I will walk and get warmed up." So he did. When I arrived at the depot a man walked in just ahead of me, and when he turned from the window, he said, "Ha, ha, ha, I might just as well go home since there will be no trains until three o'clock this afternoon." I walked up to the ticket window and said, "How come the train is so late?" He said, "An old freight train ran off the track and they will have to clean up before the passenger train can come through." I did not wait, but walked home--a distance of twenty miles. * * * * * At one time I held a meeting in what was known as Clark school house, fifteen miles south of Cohasset, Minnesota. After the last Sunday morning service, I said, "If there is anyone who will take me to Cohasset after service tonight, my heavenly Father will give him a hundred fold in this life, and eternal life in the world to come." So going down to the door after service to shake hands with the folks, there stood a nice-looking young man who had not been out to the services before. He said, "I'll take you to town tonight." I said, "All right, thank you," and out he went. After a while Brother Goodell, the elder, came and said, "I'll take you to town." I said, "You are too late. You lost your pay this time." He said, "Who is going to take you?" I answered, "The young man who stood by the door when I got there." He thought a while, then he said, "Oh, that was Henry Garber; that will never do. He is not saved. He drinks a little, dances, plays cards and likely smokes." Then he added, "I'l take you. The road is bad" (and it surely was). I answered him, "If he is like that he needs the pay." "Well," he said, "He may not come. Aren't you afraid to go with him?" "No," I said.