members of this particular church were remarkable, namely, they were
great sticklers for the faith of their church, they were all
holiness-fighters, they all used tobacco in some form.




CHAPTER II


Deacon Gramps sat on his plow-handles. The sultry August day was drawing
to a close. The sun was just ready to roll its bright red disk behind
the western horizon. The Deacon seemed to be in a deep meditation. He
cast a glance at his beautiful farm as it stretched itself out for a
mile toward the river on the one side and nestled snugly against the
foot of the limestone hill on the other side. The large white farmhouse
with green trimming cozily planted on a blue-grass knoll across the
brook seemed to bid him be at rest. The large red barn just back of the
house stood out in sharp contrast against the green-foliaged mountain.
The gold-colored balls on the lightning rods glistened in the farewell
rays of the receding sun. Mount Olivet Church reared her white walls
modestly from the brow of the blue-grass knoll a quarter of a mile
eastward. Deacon Gramps was, at the close of this peaceful summer day,
indulging in a mental congratulation of himself on being so favorably
situated in life. Everybody recognized Farmer Gramps as being the
wealthiest man in all Spruce Township. He owned the finest and fattest
horses that were driven to Mount Olivet Church. His cattle roamed the
forests for miles around, and his hogs cracked acorns on every hillside.

Apart from his worldly wealth he was the most distinguished member of