Altheus being the first to follow his father, was forced to have systematic means of raising church money, by assessing the members according to their supposed financial ability. Uncle Arter Northington, a reasonably prosperous colored tenant living on Mr. Felix Northington’s premises, was assessed $2.00. He thought it was too much, and appealed to his employer, in whose sense of right and justice he had great confidence. The latter told him he thought fifty cents would be enough. When the contribution box was handed round on the next collection day, Uncle Arter dropped in his fifty cents. After preaching was over, Rev. Carr approached him privately, and quoted appropriately from Paul regarding certain religious obligations. Uncle Arter was very black, very positive, and talked through his nose. Straightening himself up, he spoke defiantly, and said: “Brer Carr, I keers nothin’ ’tall ’bout what PAUL said. Mars Felix is smart enough for ME ter go by, an he says fifty cents is plenty fer me ter pay, an that’s all I’m gwine ter pay.” The incident was related at the village store, and in a spirit of amusement some one exclaimed, “Hurrah for Paul!” and from that time on, till his death, twenty-five or thirty years afterwards, Uncle Arter was known far and wide as “Paul.” CHAPTER VI. “HE HAD AN EAR THAT CAUGHT, AND A MEMORY THAT KEPT.” Uncle Horace was spending several days in our neighborhood, filling a whitewashing contract. Red River was past fording; he worked till late, and did not wish to risk the ferry after dark, so he “took time about,” as he called it, staying among the neighbors at night. The night he spent on my father’s premises, I went after supper to Aunt Lucy’s house in the back yard, and asked him to tell me of a corn shucking before the war. He drew his chair up near the door, and began as follows: “I think about the biggest corn shucking I ever went to was on Mr. Waters’ farm, between Mr. Billie Weatherford’s and Mr. John Powers’. Mr. Waters was a prosperous farmer, and a mighty fine man with it. “It was about the last of November, and the corn was piled high in a lot back of the house. I would suppose there were about fifty hands invited, white and colored. They went to work, and they worked, too, I tell you. “Old gray headed men were invited, not to work, mind you, but to sit off to themselves and talk over good old times. “The night was cool, and frosty, and a log fire was built for their benefit. What we called the best men of the county were there. Mr. Hatcher, Mr. Hiter, Mr. Wilcox, Mr. Thomas Shaw, Mr. John Powers, and Mr. Patrick McGowan. I remember Mr. McGowan and Mr. Shaw seemed to be particular friends. They came together and went away together.