Some five miles from Perrysville lived a horny-handed son of the soil, a man who made industry not only the chief element in his religion, but the sum total of it. He was an infidel in his belief—or disbelief—and regarded the church as an imposition, and preachers as an indolent, worthless lot. Passing through the village one day, he noticed Rev. Mr. Newgent’s garden. It was by far the finest he had seen. His surprise can only be imagined when, upon inquiry, he learned that the owner of it was one of those lazy preachers. A few days later he drove up to the parsonage with a barrel of flour, which he unloaded and unceremoniously rolled upon the porch. This time the surprise was on the preacher, as a reputation for benevolence was a thing of which, up to that time, the infidel could not boast. He explained that ordinarily he had no use for preachers, but as he had found one that was not lazy, he “wanted to help him.” The donation was an expression of his regard for the minister who showed a willingness, according to the infidel’s conception of the term, to earn his bread in the sweat of his face. Another incident, picked up at random, occurred one cold day during the winter of his stay at Perrysville. A couple whose appearance did not indicate a superabundance of worldly prosperity, came to the parsonage to be married. They had come from the adjoining county, the boundary between the two counties being the Wabash River, on the bank of which Perrysville was located. The river was frozen over. The couple traveled afoot, having crossed the river on the ice. The preacher explained that they would have to recross the river before the ceremony could be performed, as the law required that marriages be solemnized in the county in which the license was issued. So he conducted the matrimonial candidates to the river. When the preacher was satisfied that they had proceeded beyond the half-way point on the river, he ordered the couple to halt and join hands. By this time their presence had attracted the attention of the young people who were out on the ice in large numbers enjoying the fine winter sport of skating. As the wedding was a public function, no restrictions being placed on attendance, the ceremony was performed in the presence of an enthusiastic multitude. The service completed, the groom, who was unacquainted with ministerial usages, inquired as to the amount of the fee. To save him the responsibility and further embarrassment of determining the sum to be paid for the service, the preacher suggested that a dollar would be sufficient, fearing lest he might set the price too high for his purse. Even at that it was painfully evident that the young man’s financial rating was overestimated. After nervously fumbling through his pockets he was able to produce but fifty cents. In his dilemma he found it necessary to call upon his bride for financial assistance. Happily she was equal to the emergency, and supplied the deficit from her own purse.