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arMi jeveH younger ones. Andrew Scroggins was my Sunday school ''•richer some years, 1 can’t forget that once he held loft a ‘catechism’ and said he just heard me recite all the answers in the ‘book’, and then Mrs. Slaughter calling me to the front and giving me as a reward a picture card, the most beautiful I had ever seen, which I carried home with great pride.
For several tears later I went to school in the nearby school1 '"use. taught first bv the old minster. Tom Holtzman. He had won fame as a teacher, and drew t • the school a number of grown ' wing men and women. His discipline was stern, sometimes even to cruelty, as it seemed to the lad ! was.
Of all of life’s memories, I treasure most the memory of that little Mt Sale’ll Sunday school, some great revival meetings there whose deep impressions yet linger, with some of the preachers that, stand out as great in m> eyes; Sam Athev, T. P, Brown and a mighty preacher Steele in one revival. One indelible memory is the awe I felt at the lunch hour between services at Mr. ”Salem. when the little bov Iwas heard Pastor Athev ’■dk to my father about being a Christian, and then seeing my fa’her in the afternoon service, a handkerchief to his eves, walk to the friint and kneel with others at the ‘mourner’s bench”. For that was the pattern of conversion. And then later saw him with some SO others immersed in the river at Rock Mills, Thar sacred spot I carefully sought out on a return \ is it several years ago.
For nearly half a century a pas’nr, apd now reaching more people than ever before through my writings in m.anv journals, mv heart turn* with deepest gratitude to that little Sunday school at Mr. Salem, its teachers and preachers and -aints who made Clod and religion real to me. along with my godlv mother, mv first and greatest teacher. I often long for a look' again at the little church where, 1 think, (Tod began to give me a bent toward the Christian ministry, in a tiny, struggling Sunda'- school ha! bv Frank Slaughter. w ho Jived at “tile Ooks".,and where Allie Slaughter was a tiny led with one. whose daughter hai "ist written me.
S. J Morga-V,'' .
W ike Forest. V C.
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