in a trance. The altar filled with seekers, and souls stepped into that
precious fountain still open in the house of David. How happy I was! To
God be all the credit, all the glory.

Amongst the seekers was one who presently told me that for _forty-one
years he had been a drunkard._ He certainly looked as if he had--poor,
bloated, filthy, loathsome, ill-smelling creature. I can not find
adjectives enough to describe him. Everybody avoided him. It surely was
a testing time for me. Also, I had trying experiences thereafter with
this particular soul; for, though he certainly found salvation, he was
such a weakling that he was ever leaning upon the arm of flesh; in
consequence of which I endured much persecution. He haunted me much of
the time, morning, noon, and night, so that I was subjected to unkind
remarks and ridicule; but, remembering the words of our Master in Matt.
5:11, 12 and Paul's in Phil. 2:7, I endeavored to bear this for the
sake of his soul. Much later, when I was in the work in San Francisco,
he took up his abode there, and shortly afterward the blessed Lord saw
fit to provide him with an earthly companion (he was a widower), a most
worthy Christian woman, who tenderly ministered to his needs until
Father called him home, little more than a year following the
earthquake and fire of that great city. Concerning that catastrophe he
wrote me as follows:

San Francisco, Potrero Camp, Opp. S.P.R.R. Depot, Third and Townsend
Streets, April 29, 1906.

My dear Sister Roberts:

We are alive and well. Praise the Lord. On the morning of the
eighteenth we were roughly thrown from our bed by earthquake, and our