As I looked in that auctioneer's window, somehow I felt that that
humble, little three-barred autoharp was to be mine. I stepped in,
priced it, and presently told the proprietor what use was to be made of
it. He had at the first asked $5.00; now he offered it, _for such a
cause_, at half price. Hallelujah! How gladly I parted with my last
cent and joyfully walked out with my precious little musical
instrument, destined to go with me on my visits to comfort and help
save the lost. I will tell you of my present one later on.

Leaving Chico that afternoon, we camped in the evening under some
beautiful live-oak trees, beside a clear, running creek. This was in
Tehama, Tehama County. There, before retiring, and following our family
devotions, I dedicated my little instrument to the Lord's work, praying
as I did so that he would use it absolutely, together with me and my
voice, in helping to win precious souls for his kingdom.

Soon afterwards I was once more in my Redding home and resuming my
former avocations in the church and Sunday-school. But what had come
over me? what had wrought such a change? For, strange to say, I was no
longer satisfied with simply the church work. I spent evening after
evening and all spare time in the humble little mission down-town or
amongst the outcasts, though never neglecting my home.

My husband, always a reserved, proud man, one day gave me an unexpected
shock. Without forewarning he quietly, coldly informed me that I must
decide between the rescue work and him.

"Do you mean it?" I inquired.