There was this difference, and only
this difference, between the work of Billy Brown and Sam Jones; Sam
Jones declaims against sins already condemned by the popular conscience,
but Billy Brown assailed convictions enshrined in the innermost
sanctuary of the hearts of the people. He did so because these popular
superstitions stood in the way of the acceptance by the people of the
apostolic gospel. Of course, the work of such a man carried with it an
inconceivable excitement. At Mt. Sterling a man in the audience made
some objection.
"What is your name?" said Billy Brown.
"My name, sir, is Trotter."
"Well, come forward, and I will knock your _trotters_ out from under
you."
But Billy himself sometimes found his match. At Ripley he had been
preaching after his accustomed style, and riding away from the place of
meeting--it was in the spring of the year when the mud was deep--he saw
an old man painfully and with difficulty making his way through the mud.
Knowing that he was a preacher from his white cravat, his broad-brimmed
hat and single-breasted coat, he said to him:
"Well, old Daddy, how did you like the preaching?"
"Haven't heard any," stiffly replied the old gentleman.
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