“Wal, ye see, Tekawampait he was the fust Christian Indian minister o' the gospel there was in Old-town. He was a full-blooded Indian, but he was as good a Christian as there was goin'; and he was settled here over the church in Oldtown afore Parson Peabody; and Parson Peabody he come afore Parson Lothrop; and a very good minister Teka-wampait was too. Folks hes said that there couldn't nothin' be made o' Indians; that they was nothin' but sort o' bears and tigers a walkin' round on their hind legs, a seekin' whom they might devour; but Parson Eliot he didn't think so. 'Christ died for them as wal as for me,' says he; 'and jest give 'em the gospel,' says he, 'and the rest 'll come along o' itself.' And so he come here to Oldtown, and sot up a sort o' log-hut right on the spot where the old Cap'n Brown house is now. Them two great elm-trees that's a grown now each side o' the front gate was two little switches then, that two Indians brought up over their shoulders, and planted there for friendship trees, as they called 'em; and now look what trees they be! He used to stand under that 'are big oak there, and preach to the Indians, long before there was any meetin'-house to speak in here in Oldtown. “Wal, now, I tell you, it took putty good courage in Parson Eliot to do that 'are. I tell you, in them days it took putty consid'able faith to see any thing in an Indian but jest a wild beast. Folks can't tell by seein' on 'em now days what they was in the old times when all the settlements was new, and the Indians was stark, starin' wild, a ravin' and tarin' round in the woods, and a fightin' each other and a fightin' the white folks. Lordy massy! the stories I've heard women tell in their chimbley-corners about the things that used to happen when they was little was enough to scare the very life out o' ye.” “Oh, do, do tell us some of them!” said Henry and I.