The Use and Need of the Life of Carrie A. Nation [31]
in a way that terrified me, but I
conquered and for ten years I drove that horse. He was a noble beast
with almost human sense. This journey was four hundred miles. For a
hundred and fifty miles I was accompanied by a young girl of sixteen
years of age, who was a farmer's daughter and seemed to be afraid of
nothing. She was a great inspiration to me, preparing me to drive the two
hundred and fifty miles alone. The great difficulty was in finding places
to stop at night. I got so I did not look for large roomy houses for
entertainment,
but the smaller ones. I found out that the friends of the poor
are the poor. Mr. Nation met me at Topeka and he was so pleased that
he said: "You shall have this horse and buggy for your own."
Holton was thirty miles north and we drove up together.
I began to have a contempt for popular preaching, keeping apart from
'clicks" and "sects". I knew that my husband ought not to be in the ministry.
I do not believe he was ever a converted man. This made me very
miserable, putting us in a false light before the people. It was my desire
to serve God in a simple, humble way. Before the year was out because
of some dissatisfaction in the church between Mr. Nation and the board,
we left Holton. I then drove back to Medicine Lodge alone, enjoying my
trip very much. Mr. Nation never took charge of a church again. He
was a man well versed in law, and at one time rendered valuable service
in prosecuting liquor cases in Medicine Lodge.
When I lived in Texas and was keeping hotel in Richmond, one cold
rainy morning, a lot of men came in from the train.
I took special notice of one man. His hands were that of a woman,
his face was very refined, but his clothes were shabby. He was sitting
by himself and I said to him: "You must excuse me but you
look so much like a catholic priest I once saw." I did not then dream he
was one. Next morning I sent one of the boys that waited on the table to
see what was the matter that he did not come down to breakfast. He was
sick. I went up to see him and he told me he often had attacks of heart
trouble; that he had fallen in a faint in the yard the night before. I asked
him if he had any friends. He said: "No." I asked him his business?
"You guessed it last night," he replied. Then he told me he was a catholic
priest. I was very much astonished for he had on a common suit with a
red necktie. I then knew he was in trouble somewhere. He told me he
had no money. I told him he was welcome to stay as long as he wished.
I gathered up some clean garments and did for him all I could. I felt
glad to have this catholic priest in my house. I resolved to ask him
concerning
their faith. He was one of the saddest man I ever saw and it made
my heart ache to see him. I knew so well what it was to have "a heart
bowed down with grief and woe," and I saw in this poor creature desolation.
I asked him if he should die, what sin he would have to repent of.
He said: "I may have sinned in trying to fix up a home for poor priests
who come into disfavor with the bishops." His words were: "There is
no one so helpless as a catholic priest sent adrift. A boy ten years old
knows as well how to make a living for himself. I have been from a boy,
in a Jesuit College, St. John's, near New York. You do not know the
sorrows of a catholic priest. Few know that so many priests are dying from
heart disease. I am trying to get to San Antonio, for a priest there may
help me some." He stayed at the hotel five days. One evening he came in
the parlor where there was quite a company, and I was astonished to see
him so changed. He was no longer the shrinking, crest-fallen man, but he
seemed bright and joined in conversation; sang and played on the piano.
I soon found out he had been drinking. I wanted to shield him from the
scandal and made an excuse to call him from the room, and told him what
I did this for. Next morning he came down as "sad as night". I said:
"Are you going to leave?" "Yes," he replied. I wrote a note to the
conductor, whom I knew well;
conquered and for ten years I drove that horse. He was a noble beast
with almost human sense. This journey was four hundred miles. For a
hundred and fifty miles I was accompanied by a young girl of sixteen
years of age, who was a farmer's daughter and seemed to be afraid of
nothing. She was a great inspiration to me, preparing me to drive the two
hundred and fifty miles alone. The great difficulty was in finding places
to stop at night. I got so I did not look for large roomy houses for
entertainment,
but the smaller ones. I found out that the friends of the poor
are the poor. Mr. Nation met me at Topeka and he was so pleased that
he said: "You shall have this horse and buggy for your own."
Holton was thirty miles north and we drove up together.
I began to have a contempt for popular preaching, keeping apart from
'clicks" and "sects". I knew that my husband ought not to be in the ministry.
I do not believe he was ever a converted man. This made me very
miserable, putting us in a false light before the people. It was my desire
to serve God in a simple, humble way. Before the year was out because
of some dissatisfaction in the church between Mr. Nation and the board,
we left Holton. I then drove back to Medicine Lodge alone, enjoying my
trip very much. Mr. Nation never took charge of a church again. He
was a man well versed in law, and at one time rendered valuable service
in prosecuting liquor cases in Medicine Lodge.
When I lived in Texas and was keeping hotel in Richmond, one cold
rainy morning, a lot of men came in from the train.
I took special notice of one man. His hands were that of a woman,
his face was very refined, but his clothes were shabby. He was sitting
by himself and I said to him: "You must excuse me but you
look so much like a catholic priest I once saw." I did not then dream he
was one. Next morning I sent one of the boys that waited on the table to
see what was the matter that he did not come down to breakfast. He was
sick. I went up to see him and he told me he often had attacks of heart
trouble; that he had fallen in a faint in the yard the night before. I asked
him if he had any friends. He said: "No." I asked him his business?
"You guessed it last night," he replied. Then he told me he was a catholic
priest. I was very much astonished for he had on a common suit with a
red necktie. I then knew he was in trouble somewhere. He told me he
had no money. I told him he was welcome to stay as long as he wished.
I gathered up some clean garments and did for him all I could. I felt
glad to have this catholic priest in my house. I resolved to ask him
concerning
their faith. He was one of the saddest man I ever saw and it made
my heart ache to see him. I knew so well what it was to have "a heart
bowed down with grief and woe," and I saw in this poor creature desolation.
I asked him if he should die, what sin he would have to repent of.
He said: "I may have sinned in trying to fix up a home for poor priests
who come into disfavor with the bishops." His words were: "There is
no one so helpless as a catholic priest sent adrift. A boy ten years old
knows as well how to make a living for himself. I have been from a boy,
in a Jesuit College, St. John's, near New York. You do not know the
sorrows of a catholic priest. Few know that so many priests are dying from
heart disease. I am trying to get to San Antonio, for a priest there may
help me some." He stayed at the hotel five days. One evening he came in
the parlor where there was quite a company, and I was astonished to see
him so changed. He was no longer the shrinking, crest-fallen man, but he
seemed bright and joined in conversation; sang and played on the piano.
I soon found out he had been drinking. I wanted to shield him from the
scandal and made an excuse to call him from the room, and told him what
I did this for. Next morning he came down as "sad as night". I said:
"Are you going to leave?" "Yes," he replied. I wrote a note to the
conductor, whom I knew well;