AC dBooks

It was Sunday morning, and it was eighteen miles to Chillicothe.
Arriving at the hotel, the people were getting ready for meeting. On
questioning them where they were going, the landlord replied:
"To the Christian Church. Will you not go along with us?"
On asking my name he said:
"O yes; I have seen your name in the _Christian Evangelist._ You have
been preaching in Illinois. I will introduce you to our preacher, and we
will make an appointment for you this afternoon."
This landlord was a brother to that Congressman Graves that shot Cilley,
a member of Congress from Maine, in a duel with rifles, at Washington.
The people described "mine host" as one of "fighting stock "; and spoke
of him as being as thoughtful of the comfort, health and welfare of his
slaves as of his own children. To me he seemed simply a genial, jovial,
friendly and traditional "Boniface," chiefly intent on furnishing
comfortable fare and an enjoyable place for his guest.
By the members of the Christian Church I was kindly received, and was
invited to take dinner with the preacher.


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