McPherson undertook to contest the matter with her, but, not finding the
scripture he was looking for, she exclaimed with bitter and vixenish
speech, "Ah! You can't find it! You can't find it! It isn't there! I
told you so!" And thus this couple were fast demoralizing the church,
Billy Greenwell, the richest man in the church, being wholly carried
away with this fanaticism. John Brown lived half way between Ripley and
Rushville, but was a member of the church at Rushville. Bro. Brown was a
man of good sense, excellent character, and had been a member of the
Legislature. He attended our meeting at Rushville, and, in the intervals
of the meeting, was full of questions concerning this heresy that had
been sprung on them at Ripley.

Our meeting at Rushville came to a close. It had been a good meeting;
the church had been revived, and there had been important additions. I
took dinner with Bro. Brown, and in the afternoon we rode toward Ripley.
On crossing the ferry at Crooked Creek, "Old Rob Burton," the ferryman,
a tall, stalwart Kentuckian, looking down on me, asked, "Are you the
man that's goin' to preach at Ripley to-night?"

"Yes."

"Wall, don't you know thar's a woman thar that's goin' to skin you?"

"Well, I don't know. We shall see how it will be?"

At Rushville I had done my best, and now, being withdrawn from the
excitement of the meeting, felt exhausted; and determined not to touch
any debatable question that night. The house was crowded with eager and
expectant listeners. My fame had gone before me, and the "woman
preacher" was present, ready for a fight. But, alas! My sermon was a