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Mountain Life & Work vol. 01 no. 4 January, 1926

Mountain Life & Work vol. 01 no. 4 January, 1926 Council of the Southern Mountains 400dpi TIFF G4 page images University of Kentucky, Electronic Information Access & Management Center Lexington, Kentucky 2003 mlwv1n40126 These pages may freely searched and displayed. Permission must be received for subsequent distribution in print or electronically. Mountain Life & Work vol. 01 no. 4 January, 1926 Council of the Southern Mountains Berea College; Council of the Southern Mountains Berea, Kentucky January, 1926 $IMLS This electronic text file was created by Optical Character Recognition (OCR). No corrections have been made to the OCR-ed text and no editing has been done to the content of the original document. Encoding has been done through an automated process using the recommendations for Level 1 of the TEI in Libraries Guidelines. Digital page images are linked to the text file. Volume I JANUARY, 1926 Number IV Religion and the Mountains This Magazine Should Live From Cove to Community . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . .Dr. Warren H. Wilson Religious Response in Our Corner of the Mountains . . . . . . Perry Davidson Sectarianism in the Tennessee Mountains The Founding of Old Pizgah . Need of Unity in the Mountains of Virginia . . . . . . . . Edward W. Hughes Christianity in the Southern Mountains . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . G. E. Drushal Folk-lore . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Lucy Clayton Newman Books for Church and Community Life . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Contributed Mountain Forests and Future Industry The Lord's Garden CONTENTS Editorial . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Editorial . . . . . . . . . . . . . . J. H. Miller . John F. Smith .............. John F. Smith ......... Poem Published Quarterly by Berea College, Berea, Ky., in the interest of fellowship and mutual understanding between the Appalachian Mountains and the rest of the Nation. SOUTHERN Mountain Life ~ Work Vol. I. JANUARY, 1926 No. IV. Marshall E. Vaughn, Editor Dr. Wm. James Hutchins, Counsellor CONTRIBUTING EDITORS Dr. Warren H. Wilson . . . . . . New York City Mrs. John C. Campbell . . West Medford, Mass. Dr. Edmund de S. Bruner . . . . . . . . New York Miss Helen H. Dingman . . . . . . . . . Berea, Ky. Hon. W. O. Saunders . . . . Elizabeth City, N. C. Dr. John P. McConnell . . . . East Radford, Va. Dr. E. C. Branson . . . . . . . . Chapel Hill, N. C. Dr. John J. Tigert . . . . . . . . VTashington, D. C. U. .S'. Commissioner o f Education Issued quarterly-January, April, July, October Subscription Price $1.00 per year. Single Copy 30c Entered at the Post Office at Berea, Ky., as secordclass mail matter Address all communications to MOUNTAIN LIFE AND WORK Berea, Kentucky RELIGION AND THE MOUNTAINS This number of Mountain Life and Work is devoted to the church and religious life of the Southern Mountains. No subject presents difficulties of discussion nor exposes the one who would dare to engage in the discussion to greater hazards, than that of the church and religion. Religion reaches the deepest emotions of the human soul and is the most powerful force in existence. But it is the worst manhandled topic that has confronted the race since civilization had its dawn. The abuses and misinterpretations that have been dogmatically flaunted in the faces of tired sin-sick people thruout the ages have retarded the progress of righteousness and modified the influence of religion. The religion of the living God invites in vestigation and solicits criticism. Where there is no questioning there is no growth in religion. Where there is no religious education there is no questioning. It is the lack of training for religious leadership and the absence of questioning of dogmas that have hampered the religious growth of the Mountains. No investigation has taken place among the laity and the essentials have escaped the attention of the ministry in most instances. The question of "fundamentalism" vs. "modernism" has never been an issue. The whole squabble has taken place within the fundamentalist group for that is the only kind to be found in the mountains. Churches are split, hatreds are piled up and the Prince of Peace made the center of a religious brawl over technical phases of fundamentalism. There is no question about the literal meaning of the Bible. Every line from cover to cover is the direct word of God but whether Christ "went down into the water" and while there was immersed or stood upright and let the water be sprinkled on His head is of sufficient importance to break up congregations and consign to outer darkness otherwise respectable and Gad-fearing men. But the absence of liberality in the religion of the mountains is due to the lack of educational facilities. The mountain preacher has been compelled to get his entire knowledge of the Bible from the reading of the Bible itself. With rare exceptions he has had no helps, no research, no theological training. His side reading has been limited to denominational tracts and doctrinal expositions by sensational preachers of his own faith. But a change is taking place. It is very gradual and slow but the change is surely in process. Mission schools are scattered over the moutains and the best of them are ignoring doctrinal differences. County high schools are springing up with university and college men at their head. The sons and daughters Page 2 Southern Mountain Life and Work January, 1926 of mountain ministers are going off to school and returning with new ideas. These ideas sometimes bring grief to the godly parents whose very lives are embedded in a fixed belief but the new ideas are there to stay. We have seen experienced mountain preachers go away for a term or two of schooling because they had the inner consciousness that they lacked the information necessary to keep within hopeful distance of their own children. The change in the religious thinking of the mountains is on the way. But in seeking to hasten the change the liberals or any other religious zealots, should not endeavor to undermine the fundamental religious faith of the mountain man, because at the present time it is the backbone of his social life. Couple a broader interpretation of the scriptures and harmony of denominational groups with the fervor and feelings of the man or woman from the mountains and you have created a spiritual force that will sweep the world. THIS MAGAZINE SHOULD LIVE Mountain Life And Work is finishing the first year of its existence with this issue. It has blazed a trail in mountain literature that should be kept open and used for the dissemination of facts and wholesome information about the Southern Highlands. Berea College nearly fifty years ago began to plead the cause of this great neglected portion of the United States. Later, such apostles as Dr. John C. Campbell came to the mountains and then went back to the rest of the nation with the story of their wonderful discoveries. Their discoveries were of a different character from those that had been made by national leaders who sought the man-power of the mountains in time of war. These great educators and propagators of Christianity were looking for minds to train and souls to save. They found a great population with the antecedents and national traditions of the proudest Scotch, Irish, English and Dutch inhabitants of the more enlightened parts of our country. Many well meaning though self-satisfied American citizens have considered cannon fodder in times of war the most promis ing attainment for the average mountaineer. It is but natural that such a conception should get abroad since feuds and'vendettas in times of peace and sharp shooting in times of war were the principal channels of publicity open to the mountains. Practically every grand division of our country has had its "booms" and ii wildcatting" except the mountains. Every region has had its press agents except the mountains. They have all had their great railroad openings except the mountains. They have all had their allurements that enticed the adventurous American youth who must either starve or turn his genius into prosperity. The mountains have been the seed bed for the rest of the nation. Illustr ous sons and daughters of the Appalachian hills are to be found in every state in the Union, and in greater numbers in the newer states of the West. The notable movement that went on in the mountains for more than a century was an exodus. Only within the last fifth of a century has any migration at all been toward the mountains and yet they have a wonderful virile and sturdy stock. There are more than four millions of people in these mountains still. They are slowly going forward but too slowly for the good of the nation as a whole. The mountains should have a press agent. A press agent that will tell the truth and be sure to tell it. The mountain country should not be ashamed of the truth. It is so electrified with romance and crowned with chivalry as to make its story the most .fascinating reading of modern American life. The patience and hopeful expectation of the mountain women should be an inspiration to the girls of the rest of the country. Mountain Life and Work has aspired to become a voice or a press agent for this great region. It has extended its feeble efforts over one year and now waits upon the verdict of the reading public for its further action. It has become necessary for the present editor who is giving up his work in the field of education for another connection to relinquish his title as EDITOR and take less responsible connection with the publication. He hopes to continue as (Continued on page 19) January, 1926 Southern Mountain Life and Work Page 3 From Cove to Community By Warren H. Wilson Passing through the mountain country one sees at times the reminders of an earlier neighborhood life, in the form of stores now closed, schools abandoned and sometimes missionary "colleges" that have been given up. The patronage of these loyal institutions has been transferred to larger ones, or scattered over a larger area on a new pattern. In all such cases one should look for better roads as the basis of the change. In the old days the country people lived in small "primary groups" which the mountain people called "coves" because of the encompassing walls that shut them in. But in all the states, even in the prairie states where there are no such walls, the small group was the unit, next larger than the family, in which the life of the countryman or woman was lived. In it he was born, married, traded, worshipped, went to school, labored, died and in it he was buried. In the mountains this local form was discovered earlier than in the prairie states, because of its evident boundaries; but it was characteristic of all American country life. Bulletins of the Universities of Wisconsin and of Missouri have recently disclosed the "Rural Primary Group" as being in those prairie states about the same sort of local unit as the "cove" of the mountain states. There was, however, a greater intensity in the mountain cove organization; and sometimes a military character. The people of Jack's Creek in North Carolina were said to have been "composed of just three families, the Petersons, the McCurrys and the Renfrews. The Petersons alone were accountable for 123 killings in 50 years. Over the mountain were the Sheltons; and there was a Peterson graveyard on Shelton Laurel, as there was a Shelton grave yard on Jack's Creek among the Petersons." That is, whenever a Shelton strayed over to Jack's Creek he was in danger of his life and if a Peterson visited Shelton Laurel he might stay there and be buried. The reason for this intensity of the "cove" organization is not fully known; the solidity of the mountain barriers was probably its chief cause; there may have been in addition something in the heredity of the mountaineers. These causes will be better known some day than they are now. We know only that the students of the mountain rural society were the first to discover the primary group life, because it was more assertive. It spoke in acts of hostility, while in the rest of the country the neighborhood was silent and required to be questioned. The community, which is everywhere taking the place of the cove or neighborhood or primary group is not so easily reduced to uniform terms. In Wisconsin it is called a "trade basin" by Professors Galpin and Kolb; in Missouri it is called by Professors Morgan and Howell "the secondary group." The investigators in the latter state do not find the country people so loyal to the geographical center of their area as they are in Wisconsin. Missourians are moved often by their feelings to go through a nearby village to trade in a town farther from home. In Wisconsin the farmer is prone to trade at the point at which economy of travel gives him an advantage. My observation of the Mountain people leads me to believe that they will go where they please for their purchases, for medical service, and for churchservices, rather than go where the economist would send them. They do not mind a longer ,journey if they can suit a personal liking, or ex WARREN H. WILSON Page 4 Southern Mountain Life and Work January, 1926 press a personal aversion. In this they represent the South. Indeed they represent, I believe, the farm population of America more generally than university students are aware, for farmers are not so generally converted to the doctrine of "economic determinism" as are college professors. The real lasting unit is the farm household, and its members cherish, as far as they can afford it, the liberty to go where they like for what they want. It is interesting to see which phase of the common life is first reorganized upon a larger geographical base. In North Carolina it was education that first took the boy and girl to the big centers. Next the lure of wages carried off the men of the household to "public works" to earn money for the purchase of store-goods. Lumber-camps, road-contracts, mines and factories vied with the schools in bringing into the coves the spirit and the wares of the bigger communities. The last to be remodeled is the marketing of local products and the retailing of commodities. I ate dinner one day in a boarding-school at a county-seat, and was asked to excuse their lack of butter on the table. That same afternoon ten miles away I was solicited to buy butter at ten cents a pound, made in the house of a graduate of that same school, who could not sell his products. Yet that school had been in operation for twenty-five years, and the motor-road had been made from the county-seat to the farm five years before. It occurred to me that that school ought to organize a class in cooperative marketing, and I advised that graduate to form a cooperative exchange for the sale of local products. I have seen a local hospital, erected at big expense, abandoned by the local residents as soon as they had bought automobiles, although for five years before the roads were rebuilt they had rejoiced in its convenient medical service. Then the erection of consolidated schools has often assembled the people into larger community wholes, who used to live in coves and to know only their own kinsfolk. Until studies of the process of adjustment of the social life to a larger geographical area have been made for the mountain people one can only say that the unit of life is larger. It is no longer safe to erect elaborate buildings in coves of the mountains. One cannot predict what will be the future centers. Even the county-seat is an unsafe bet. Churches or schools may find better favor if they are centered outside town limits. We do not know yet, in most counties, where to locate our service institutions. Roads are in the way of being projected all over the mountains and roads are at present the potent force in remaking the social map of the mountains. The symbol of the change is the Ford, or sometimes a more costly car, that stands beside an unpainted mountain house. The automobile betokens a larger area of movement. It symbolizes the appetite for change. It is the new-painted sign, in an unpainted and unrepaired neighborhood, of trade and pleasure. All over America the Ford car has been the first great experiment in spending money. We do not yet know what it will lead to, but it is probable that in time it will have enticed away all those who are restless. It will equally serve in selecting those who prefer to stay; for it gives them the means of trading where they please, worshipping where they are best suited, while living at home on "the old place." The meaning of this situation is clear enough for the agencies which built small settlement-buildings and missionschools. Many of these must be closed. Happy is the Board that can sell its buildings to the County for a public school. Ex-President Frost "was angrily impatient with the numerous mission schools that are allowed to run on with many teachers and few students." The supporters of these schools and community houses realize the situation no less clearly, though with different emotions. Some of them should remain, but it is not always clear which should be discontinued. Some are destined to be the centers of the larger communities. Mr. John C. Campbell, seeing this change at work, urged the mission boards to go deeper into the mountains, erect small units and start all over again. Certain it is that the resources of community service should be mobilized and their centers relocated. We await the advice of the univer(Continude an Page 24) January, 1926 Southern Mountain Life and Work Page 5 Religious Response in Our Corner of the Mountains By Perry Davidson A cloudburst had struck the valley of the Rattlesnake and other tributaries of Buffalo, leaving destruction in its wake. Fences, tree trunks,. corncribs and barns as so many chips, down the hour before was a harmless flowed by our door. Horses, cows and hogs were trapped in their enclosures and went away with the drift. A few more minutes of that downpour and the things I set down here never would have appeared in print. For we narrowly escaped with our lives. This was the story all up and down the stream. A large family of our relatives who lived two miles across the mountain from us perished in a similar avalanche that tore their cabin from its foundations and carried it downstream a half mile where it was caught and held by a large oak which had been blown across the path of the flood. This tragedy is briefly sketched because of the religion it seemed to generate. The elements have ever played a part in man's chastening. However, I must write as a mere reporter and not as a theologian. The moral tone of the community improved suddenly and decisively. Our material loss, our narrow escape from death, the bereavement we suffered left us helpless, sad, frightened. It was a harrowing experience. Heretofore, Buffalo was a godless place, if were swept away torrent which an little stream that MERRY DAVIDSON judged by the standards of two nearby neighborhoods. Certain evils peculiar to the mountain country flourished in our midst, gambling among them. A familiar sight was the gamesters squatted about a saddleblanket, chips and stakes conspicuous and each man with his revolver in easy reach before him-a mute if eloquent threat from every man hunkered there that cheating would be very, very dangerous. The feud spirit was not so bad on Buffalo as it was in two nearby localities whose names you would immediately associate with bloodshed, but an occasional killing kept us reminded that there was still an outstanding difference of opinion in certain quarters. Once or twice this feeling had vented itself in several fatalities, and I distinctly recall that the women always looked forward with dread to election day. The heavily wooded coves furnished ample concealment and retreat foril(icit stills and distillers who kept the thirsty supplies with a well known, inflammatory beverage' To the credit of the community, I should state that a large majority of the population were foal abstainers, but the bibulous were so noisy and troublesome that it seemed as though they far outnumbered the temperance crowd. I now find the same situation existing in centers of population, but clear thinking, law abiding American citizens are not deceived by their bluster. Profanity was as common in the neighborhood as dogfennel. It flowed without a stir of Page 6 Southern Mountain Life and Work January, 1926 compunction and was used to emphasize the most ordinary conversation. Deep feeling excited it in a steady roar, and some of the oaths used were almost blood curdling. The storm put a new song in our mouths, the fear of God in our hearts. The moonshiner emerged from his cove, his product no longer in demand. The tippler controlled his craving and the gambler vanished from the knoll. Profanity had become a part of the average local vocabulary, but heroic if clumsy efforts were now made to converse without it. These worthy efforts were continued for some time, stimulated by the frequent thunderstorms which seemed worse that summer than ever before. Another good sized cloudburst no doubt would have perfected the reformation so violently inspired, but some of the old evils later returned, though, I'm happy to record, in a much milder form. All of which is to show that Buffalo, which heretofore had not been friendly to religion as represented by the church, was now meek and receptive. The scorner was hushed. The local wag who had always fount)- a backsliding preacher his best subject for jest changed his laughter-producing methods as soon as he had sufficiently recovered from his own fright to get his wit going again. It was feared by some that this irreverance had been at least partly responsible for the flood, and genuine efforts were now made to appease Divine displeasure in this quarter. Man's extremity again. The preachers did the qualifying and began where the storm had left off. Desolation had prevailed where previous ministerial efforts had been futile. There were enough joiners that summer to start a new church. Old and young alike repented of their sins and were baptised. Hell and damnation, as usual, was the doctrinal theme which struck home with telling effect. In keeping with a time-honored custom, the funeral of the victims would not be held for three or four years, at which time, the people of the community could be brought back to their senses if, meanwhile, interest in religion had begun to wane. My limited knowledge of local church history does not qualify me to explain the why of these long postponed funerals. I only know they are often deferred several years from the date of demise, that I have attended quite a number of them, and that I have tried to observe to the best of my ability what they were all about, as well as their effects on the assembled audience. Convenience may have dictated the custom. I can surmise that at some early date in the settlement of the section, isolation and the scarcity of ministers made it impossible to have requiem promptly after death and that these rites had to bide their time along with other matters that had to be put off. Then again, the custom may have been brought in by the earlier settlers whose ancestors possibly brought it with them from across the waters. I leave this question with the historian, for I am merely relating facts that have come to my observation. I should not forget to say, though, that the custom lent itself to our environment where violent death occasionally overtook the unjust as well as the righteous. Obviously, religion should not play favorites, and it would not seem to be very churchlike to refuse a few kindly postmortem statements about a man because he had been wicked while alive. But how could a preacher eulogize such a man while his evil deeds were still fresh in the memories of his earthly neighbors? Time helps to soften such memories and has enabled many a mountain preacher to develop touching encomiums on men who while alive were remembered only for their harsh or wicked ways. There are decided advantages in such a funeral from the ecclesiastical standpoint. As I remember them, they are held in the home of the nearest bereaved, or in the immediate neighborhood, the late haunts of the departed. The favorite preacher of the family, preferably one who knew the deceased, delivers the funeral sermon which I have known to last for three hours. Visiting preachers, as a rule, are also present and are invited to take part in the services which consume the better part of the working day. A funeral is often the year's biggest religious event-not forgetting its social aspects either-and people attend it from miles January, 1926 Southern Mountain Life and Work Page 7 around. Often two or three funerals are preached at one meeting, and this adds to the importance of the occasion. Communities in the mountains are almost invariably designated by creeks, and the dwellers on a nearby creek had long been Godfearing, in constrast to our own community before the big hailstorm. My oldest sister had married into that neighborhood and as a boy of eight years I was allowed to spend part of the summer in her home. She took me to the first church service I ever attended, an experience I still remember vividly. I shall describe it briefly, because it was typical of the day, and is still so to a large extent in the more isolated mountain communities. Physically, the preacher (for a minister is always a preacher there) was a good representative of our race-tall, lean, and deliberate of movement. Some would call it slow, but it's more than that. He had a sad countenance and there was a sob in his voice, suggestive of the sorrow, one would surmise, he felt because mankind was so sinful. I could not understand what he said. I was too young for that, but I was moved by the way he said it. Others must have been even more stirred, for after he had been preaching for an hour or so three or four women were in an emotional frenzy which my sister told me was called shouting. It seemed strange conduct. I wondered how they could get worked up to such a point. Come to think of it, my memory is hazy as to whether the shouting took place during the sermon or the final exhortation that accompanied the invitation hymn, but recalling similar services which I later attended, I remember that the preaching was generally over when the shouting began. As I look back I am also reminded that the service was very much of an endurance contest between the preacher and his congregation. It was a long sermon-it seemed hours to me on that hard straight backed seat too high for my feet to touch the floor-and the crowd retaliated by running in and out as much as it pleased. Later on, for several years of my life, I considered this lacking in respect to the preacher, but now I'm inclined to defend the audience. There's an end to human endurance even when at church. Only, it should be remembered that all this darting in and out was not from restlessness or exhaustion. Some of the girls had on bright calico dresses, and femininity is vain in the Cumberlands as it is on F St., in Washington, D. C. A few of the young men were also wearing their first "brought on" clothes (not "fotched on," by the way) and they too wanted to be seen. But finally the sermon was over and prayer was announced. All the members knelt with the preacher, their knees on the hard rough oak, their positions as abject as possible. (Which is not unusual except for the length of time required to maintain that position.) Following the example of my elders, I prostrated myself, though on raising my eyes to look about the room I saw some of the more sophisticated youngsters laughing at me. With some heat, I later mentioned the conduct of these irreverent children to my brother-in-law, a fellow suppliant with me on this occasion, who informed me that on account of my youth it would not be necessary for me to do any praying for several years yet; that I would not be punished for my sins until I was twelve years old, at which time he hoped I would join the church and live a Christian life. He admonished me to be good meanwhile, warning me against the more common sins, and explaining that if I did not commit them now it would be easier for me to live right after I had reached the age when all of my sins would be set down against me by the recording angel. I was grateful for this information, but I could see that I was going to have a hard time, sooner or later, to escape from the awful hell that everybody was talking about. And, of course, if one escaped hell, even by a hair's breadth, he went to heaven. There was no middle ground. But back to the meeting. I shall not detain you as we were detained that Sabbath. In spite of the style of presentation which I have chosen for this article, let me assure you that my references to the prayer are made with reverence. It began in well chosen, quietly spoken phrases that boldly contrasted the nothingness and misery of us mortals "down here in this low ground of sorrow" with the Deity and the far away heaven where he lived and ruled the Page 8 Southern Mountain Life and Work January, 1926 universe. The preacher's voice gathered volume and plaintiveness as he rose to the climax. Sounds very much like groans, and made by the visiting preachers in the audience, added to the sorrow of the plea. Faster and faster came the words now almost too rapid for articulation. More and more impassioned was the plea of our mediator until it seemed that the emotional strain would rend him. Finally reaching the crest of his endurance, he subsided to the tones used at the beginning, only they were unmistakably from a man approaching exhaustion. I have often wondered whether the concluding hymn was a strictly local composition or a creation of some other mountain community, or even an importation. Its arrangement made it easy to memorize and it was easily the most popular song of the Teges Creek church members. The stanzas reproduced below will show you how it ran Father has a home, sweet home, Father has a home, sweet home, Father has a home, sweet JzomeLord, 1 want to fine the ccngelsBeazeti f ul home. And the refrain: Beautiful home, sweet home, Beautiful home, sweet home, Beautiful home, sweet JaomeLord, 1 want to ji.ne the angelsEeautifuL home. Next came Mother has a home, followed by Brother has a home, Sister has a home, and Children have a home, in order named, so that not a single member of the family could possibly be neglected. The domestic flavor undoubtedly added to its popularity, making it even more of a home than a church song. Then, it was so :easy to remember. Any child who could carry a dune could sing it. Five joined the church during the singing, for it was the invitation hymn, and after the benediction the congregation as well as the crowd on the outside, most conspicuous of whom were the horse swappers, repaired to the water's edge about a mile away, to witness the baptism of the converts who had joined at the meeting before. This was a rite clothed with great solemnity by the officiating minister and fraught with deep emotion for the converted bystanders. Even the impressionable outside the fold were not proof against the moving spectacle, and if a check-up had been made it would have revealed that some of the supposedly unregenerate who wept while the baptizing was in progress joined the church at the next meeting. Callous analyst though I find myself with the passing years and many hard experiences, I have to admit that witnessing a similar service about six years later swept aside my own rapidly waning resistance and helped me to decide that I would get along better with the church members than with the scorners. The religious actvities thus far touched on were of the Baptist denomination to which easily nine-tenths of the professing Christians of the county belonged. I am told that this holds true of the whole Cumberland region, though I have no definite statistics. I once wrote an article for the leading Kentucky Baptist publication dilating on the great opportunity the Baptists had in this section. They have not taken advantage of it. I'm a member of the Baptist. Church myself and know whereof I speak. But I'm a little ahead and perhaps slightly outside of my story. To belong to the church where my sister and my brother-in-law were members truly meant walking in the straight and narrow way, at least overtly. A sad face was in order and gayety of whatsoever nature was an abomination to the Lord. The fiddle and the banjo were the devil's own instruments, and I have known expulsion to result where a youthful member played "Rabbit Soup," a skipping game which in spots slightly savored of terpischore. A member might say "doggon," "dadburn"or "blame my picture," but if he used stronger expletives when he bruised his nail he must first make sure that one of the brethern was not present. It might mean excommunication at the next meeting. Knowing something more about human nature now, I can easily understand how and why so many of these church members who began their religious lives with such zeal should soon find the regime too January, 1926 Southern Mountain Life and Wo~~k Page 9 SPIRITUAL USES FOR "HELL FOR SARTIN" CREEK much for their powers of endurance. Such discipline wore them out. The younger members who did not get their names removed, as a result of trivial shortcomings, by the church in official session usually drew away from such a straight-laced routine through the natural processes of life. The church of the backwoods, like the church of the city, was attracting, but not holding the youth. Our Baptists were divided and subdivided on the question of doctrine. The members of the church to which I have just referred were careful to prefix "Missionary" in referring to themselves. It distinguished them from the Primitive or "Hardshell" Baptists who did not countenance missionaries nor Sunday schools. Then came the sharp, almost hostile, division among the Missionary Baptists, one school following the 16th century philosopher Arminius and his freedom of the will while the other most outstanding group unflinchingly stood for predestination and election, a modified form of Calvinism. And our beliefs were no half-hearted matters. They were convictions. We Calvinists pitied as well as despised the Armenians, who felt that their good works would factor largely in their souls' salvation-who believed that they could decide anything for themselves. The Armenians called us "Hardshells" and cast our badly outnumbered crowd out of the Baptist association. We then organized an association of our own which soon had as many churches and made a better showing in many ways than the old association. Doctrine was the important thing. Grace was a frequent text, but according to the preacher using it, one must believe exactly as he did or be in danger of hell. Here and there was a Methodist or a "Campbellite" church, but they were too few and far between to attract attention or envy from the preponderant Baptist crowd. We understood that the "Campbellites" considered baptism as indispensable to salvation and that the Methodists did a great deal of shouting, but beyond these reports, little Page 10 Southern Mountain Life and Work January, 1926 effort was made to dissect their beliefs and practices. We were too busy with our own squabbles to quarrel with the other family. Of course, we interpreted the Bible literally. This question of liberalism and fundamentalism has come up since I left Kentucky nearly five years ago, but I'll wager that fully ninety-nine per cent of my former religious associates are still 'fundamentalists. For 'this I'm neither blaming them nor praising them. I have already wasted too much energy in quarreling with my fellowmen about their religious beliefs. Adam and Eve were historical characters -so were Cain and Able-and the great drama, creation, in which they figured, an historical occurrence. No one ever thought of evolution, and to have advocated it would have been unthinkable heresy. The flood-the one in which Noah figured so conspicuously-was almost as real to us as its smaller edition which played such an important part in the religious attainments of my birthplace. Jonah was swallowed by the whale, and Joshua was actually obeyed by the sun when he commanded it to stand still that he might by its light prolong the slaughter of his enemies. Incidentally, no one seemed to question the right of the Israelites to do all the killing they wanted to, for were they not commanded to slaughter their enemies unmercifully, to spare neither old nor youngdidn't God command this? Good enough for that king who got defeated and captured in battle and then had his eyes gouged out! For were not the Children of Israel God's elect? Were not the elect rather a privileged class? And in my own early religious days, we were the elect-we Calvinists. Nobody else would be saved. We could prove it by the Bible. Which is a slight digression, for I should have added a catalog of many other biblical occurrences and miracles which to question meant courting fire and brimstone. Being "called" to preach did not imply that the inspired should train himself. He got his summons from on high and let it go at that. Why burden oneself with facts or strive to be grammatical? In fact the probity of the educated preacher, if one occasionally passed our way making a religious survey, or something like that, for a church board, was usually questioned. For wasn't he receiving pay while presumably serving God as a minister of the gospel? Happily, this state of affairs is gradually changing, but a sudden revolution need not be expected. We do not have revolutions in Appalachia. Like New England and some of the other more substantial sections of our country, we are conservative. We are also patriotic, though considering our neglect by the United States Government, I frankly wonder why we should be. We have been left very largely to our fate except when there was warfare and then Uncle Sam has remembered his excellent sharpshooters-his very bests-shut up in his highlands and has called them out to defend the rest of the country. We don't need any defense ourselves. No hostile invader would any more disturb us than has our own government this hundred and fifty years-unless they, too, later wanted some good fighting done. But pardon another digression. The pastor voices the mental and spiritual viewpoints of his flock, so judging from the progress along other lines of endeavor, an educated ministry for our mountain country will shortly come about in the natural order of things. Perhaps I should qualify the prophecy by saying that the ministry will be educated if there is to be any ministry at all. The new economic order makes it impossible for the minister to work without pay, which has been the case in the past. The problem of revenue for this purpose might as well be faced on its merits before venturing too much for the religious future of our people. The population is sparse and this will keep the churches small and scattered. Coal, the chief material wealth of the section, is now owned by outside capital. It is doubtful if any of the profits accruing from the exploitation of this natural wealth will be reinvested in the welfare of the mountain people. No great agricultural prosperity is to be hoped for. The timber is gone. This narrows prospects, but let's not despair. Maybe there ,is oil below the coal, and if it is struck the native will not let the "furriner" outwit him next time. Yes, a way will be found to pay the minister, January, 1926 Southern Mountain Life and Work Page 11 A PIONEER "MEETIN' HOUSE OF THE MOUNTAINS" since in this age of materialism it is no longer possible for him to work without remuneration. Meanwhile, we should not forget our debt of gratitude to our untutored religious leaders who, spurning pay for their great service, have kept the light burning these hundred and twenty-five years. We are living examples of the truth that goodness scared into people is better 0 Lord, look down upon the souls That's mustered round the trees, And bring them back from foreign ways, Repentant to their knees. Skeercely a one but what his heart Is set to disbelieve, That opposite, old way, like what Deceased our Mother Eve. The good, old-time religion, Lord, Hain't what it aster be; Qacare level-Landers wander in To make a sport of me. Right within gunshot of my voice The, lads are courting gay, And swapping nags, and fiddling, too, Upon Thy Holy Day! than no goodness at all. It has often stuck until the natural processes of regeneration could take hold. But the old time crusader departs with reluctance. Like his associates and his predecessors, he fears for the future of religion. Ann Cobb has sensed his feeling in her poem, "An Old `Regular' Preacher," which I am reproducing for you Full forty years since my Election Day has traveled by, And now this body's dwindling dower I'm aiming for to die. My pilgrimage is almost done, My soul will find release, And sweep hits way triumphant through The pearly gates of peace. Lengthen the brittle thread of life, That 1 may garner in Some silly sheep that's lost amidst The thorny paths of sin. Poor, feeble stock, us humans be, Unfit for courts above. 0 Lord, dig round the roots of our hearts With the mattock of thy love. Page 12 Southern Mountain Life and Work January, 1926 Sectarianism in the Tennessee Mountains By J. H. Miller The rural sections of the Cumberland mountains of Tennessee are the neglected regions religiously. The Presbyterian Church U. S. A. has been in this region over a hundred years, Dr. John L. Dillard of precious memory having come to Alpine mountain in 1820 and established a school. About eight years ago this church began a systematic program for the country church in neglected districts. One of their oftpublished policies is not to go where there are other churches. The first work under the new program was in Cumberland county, where there was a community of forty-two families that had no church or preaching advantages, and no social life. Here they placed a young woman of fine Christian character and training. She established a Sunday School, and, in addition, had the children every week in her home, giving them Christian training and teaching the many things that would prepare them for greater efficiency in life. Regular preaching was established. She taught their public school free one year, enabling the county to build for the community a badly-needed school building. In many other ways she was a blessing to the people when they were in need of help and comfort in their homes. Other communities heard of her work. Their representatives came to see, and stayed to ask that she go and do similar work for them. Of course she could serve but one place at a time, but her work did result in another community's receiving even better things than the one she was in. However, some sectarian people began their fight on her because she "followed not us," and made the place so unbearable that she had to leave. A mining community of some two thousand people in Fentress county had no minister or SERVICE UNDER regular preaching by any church. Our superintendent called a conference of the people of the community and agreed to get a capable minister to live among and serve them in the capacity of a pastor of a "community church" if they would furnish a home for him and contribute to his salary. The man was found, a capable, consecrated pastor, and he cared for his fellows. A house was furnished. The minister preached every Sunday and spent a great deal of his time among the people at their homes, in the mines wherever men gathered. One miner told him, after the man of God had said he was there for the commun THE TREES ity and not to build up anybody's church, "If you are here as you profess, we will follow you to the ends of the earth." Local preachers working in the mines and leaders of a certain denomination began to hold services in the homes, and built a brush arbor under which a meeting would be held every month or six weeks. It was discovered that these meetings were more for opposition to the new order of things than for the spread of the Kingdom. They made it so harrassing to this godly man that he felt he could not stay and submit to the treatment that he and his splendid family had to endure. In Pickett county there was an old church building without doors or windows, and no religious services of any kind were regularly held. Ten years before there were regular services nearly every Sunday. We placed a young man for two summers in this community to organize and conduct a Sunday School and to preach to the people. The second summer one of our pastors held a fine evangelistic service, and a number professed faith in Christ. At the close of this series of meetings our man said, "We want january, 1926 Southern Mountain Life and Work Page 13 to see you people have regular religious services. If my church can serve you, we are ready to do it. If some other church can serve you better, that is what we want. I will be back a month from now to preach for you again, and in the meantime you people ought to get together and decide what you want. If at that time you wish me to organize a church, I will do so, but if you wish some other church to serve you that is what we wish." During the time of the above meeting a superintendent of another denomination came to the community, stopped in the home of one of his members in the neighborhood, and came to the place where the meeting was being held two successive nights. He would not come into the house, but stayed on the outside. During the month between the appointments an effort was made to commit several persons to an organization of his church. Our man appeared a month later and made the same announcement that'he had previously made, proceeding to take a vote of the people present as to whether they wanted our church or some other church. The vote was for our church, and it was therefore organized. However, during the next few weeks three different churches tried to organize, and one succeeded in organizing a church with four members. In Putnam county on the highway connecting two county seats there was a community with a good sized population, which had no Sunday School or church. The owner of the country store there sent word to our pastor at a village some seven or eight miles away that he was ready to give an acre of ground and one hundred dollars to anyone who would undertake to develop the needed work. Three of us went down one afternoon to confer with those interested. We had a very pleasant review of the situation and made an appointment for a week later to have a more extended interview with a larger representation of the community. The next day a leading layman from another denomination and from another county visited the same people and told them he would make a liberal subscription if they would organize his church. Instances like the above can be multiplied. They are the result of the sectarian teaching and practice of the denominations working in this section. One denomination of long occupation here preaches everybody to peridition who does not believe as it does. They think and contend that a "field is occupied" if some time in the years gone by a congregation of their sort was organized, though they do not and never did have a Sunday School, they do not have even a regular once-a-month preaching, and their place of worship is but a windowless shack or a school house. The young people may be wandering as shepherdless sheep. Another denomination has a leading pastor who says that every community, no matter how many other churches it may have, needs a church of his kind. This denomination publishes in its denominational literature the suggestion that their Sunday Schools have nothing to do with the International Sunday School work. A third leading denomination working in this territory has a superintendent who published in a county paper a short time ago a notice that this mountain territory belonged to them, and he called the attention of the Presbyterians particularly to this fact. What a notice, in the face of the destitution religiously in all the rural districts of this mountain country! A minister of still another denomination sent a brother to the writer asking that a meeting be arranged between us two to discuss the differences between our churches. I was pleased to answer, in harmony with my own church, as well as my own feelings in the matter, We have no time, or disposition to discuss differences, but will meet you at any time and at any place to work for the salvation of the people. O, how we wish the churches had the spirit of the Master, and would preach and practice, "Forbid him not, he that is not against us is for us." "The measure of a man in all of his relationships of life is determined by his attitude toward his unenforcible obligations." Page 14 Southern Mountain Life and Work January, 1926 The Founding of Old Pizgah By John F. Smith This is the story of the beginning of the church on Deerhide Creek, the church at the head of the hollow. The story was told to me by my Aunt Lucinda, a gentle old creature who reached her ninety-second year before she was called home. The church was founded by Old Osborne McConnico, the hardshell preacher, who pulled a whip-saw from dawn till dark every day of the week, and dreamed dreams of the wrath to come at night time. He preached these same dreams on Sunday mornings to audiences that gasped and grew tired and suffered with backache and became hungry and often went to sleep long before the sermons were finished, for Old Osborne was not a man to hasten to the end of a message when once he got well under way in the pulpit. The grandsons of men who were his contemporaries still tell how the old man used to climb to the top of a high ragged cliff with long hunting horn in hand, and blow blast after blast that reached and echoed far down the lonesome valley and vaulted over the ridge into the coves on the other side. He did this to call the faithful to prayers. The young rakes of the neighborhood, it is said, could always tell when they were going to "ketch hell' on Sunday morning from the lusty vigorous blasts which came from that long horn high up on the rocks above them. Aunt Lucinda told how these same young rakes named the old man "Gabriel," and how all the people smiled when the nickname was used among them. "Every Sunday mornin'," said the old lady, "you might listen 'long about tater-grabblin' time, an' you could hear Gabriel's horn, as the PROFESSOR JOHN F. SMITH folks called it, soundin' sorter slow-like at first, but gittin' louder an' louder jist like a hard rain a-comin'. He'd blow an' blow, 'pears like, for half the mornin' sometimes. He blowed all sorts of toots, for he said it took um to fetch out all sorts of people. "An' when I wuz a little gal I've heerd 'im tell how he used to stand high up on the rocks an' watch the people come along the paths from their houses to the meetin' house. He said they looked jes lak red and white strip-ed ants down below him. He 'lowed he could always tell whether they'd been good endurin' the week by the way they walked." In her simple way she told how the division came about, how the new church was built, and how the people gathered in large numbers to see it dedicated. Old Brother MeConnico had "split off" from Sinai, "jes over the ridge on Chinkypin branch," because another preacher, Brother Pete Greer, essayed to dream dreams whose doctrine about the Trinity "were a leetle mite cuntrary to his'n." Old Osborne insisted that "God 'lmighty runs this world by hisself, an' he tells the Son an' the Holy Sperrit what they must do." Brother Pete emphatically asserted that God 'lmighty an' the Son, an' the Holy Sperrit workin' together as one run this world of our'n an' anybody tellin' ye anything to the contrary aint fitten to be heerd by rightminded people." So Brother McConnico grew impatient with doctrines of this sort and decided to "split off." He acted on the impulse, left the old church on "Chinkypin" and resolved to start a new church on the head of Deerhide where he could proclaim his doctrine of the Trinity without fear of being contradicted. January, 1926 Southern Mountain Life and Work Page 15 When he walked away from Sinai after the final break, with wounded pride but with head erect, he took another path which led up the hill by the place where a big tree had been cut, and where in early days a hunter had been badly torn by an angry mother bear. Having arrived at the top of the ridge he sat down on a shingle cut; pulled off his boots, and with a handful of dry leaves brushed off the dust of his feet against his opponents over on "Chinkypin." Then taking the path down the other side of the ridge he left Sinai never to set foot inside its door again. More than half the members of Sinai "split off" with him. Billy Crutchfield and his woman; Zack Wombles, Allan Route, "Old Snipe" Beasley, Josiah Finley, and more than a dozen other pillars of Sinai rose up in their righteous wrath and came to join the brethren in the new venture on Deerhide. Aunt Lucinda told about the first sermon that Old Osborne preached after the split at Sinai. It was exactly a month afterwards. He had gone about the neighborhood telling everybody to come to Sandstone Gap on Sunday morning when they heard the hunting horn on the high cliff. He did not say what would be done, but everybody knew the old man's mettle and were confident that they would be rewarded spiritually for coming together. When the blasts were heard on that fine Sunday morning in May all the hill folk put on their best clothes and came to the gap to hear what he had to say. The children and the family dogs came with the rest, for that was a day when all the household went in a group to church. Old Osborne had been out in the woods during the four days preceding Sunday. Aunt Lucinda said he had taken "a batch of cornbread an' several rashers of bacon in a poke an' tuckered off some'r's," his own family not knowing whither he had gone. For four days and nights like a prophet of old he lived out in the wild, dreaming dreams and filling his horn of wrath against "All the Greers and other followers of Moloch who'd not yet been sent to the lake of fire." When he appeared at the gap that morning he looked every inch the seer from the wilderness. His long white hair and beard had been growing unshorn for months. He had blackened the skin under his eyes with a piece of charcoal, and had girded himself with a belt of plaited bark taken from hickory wid wahoo bushes. As he descended the trail that led down from the lookout point he stepped aside on to an over-hanging rock, blew three long blasts on his horn, and shouted in a great voice like another Isaiah, "Hear ye, hear ye-e, hearr-r-r ye-e-e-e-e, 0 my people! I have seen Jehovah the Lord! I have spoken to him, an' He hath spoken to me! He came to me in a dream an' hath appointed me to be the bearer of a great message to the children of men. Hear ye', hear-r-r ye-e-e, hear-r-r-r-r ye-e-e-e-e, 0 my people, the message which the Lord sends by His servant, Osborne McConnico !" Whereupon he came down to the spot where the trail crossed the ridge and motioned for the people to gather more closely around him. When they were come together he sat down on a great bowlder, lifted his hands towards heaven and read the beatitudes from memory. Then he requested all to kneel in prayer. He knelt on the bowlder and delivered a prayer that was quoted by his faithful brethren for more than half a century afterwards. Such an intermingling of pleadings for mercy on his people, invocation of divine wrath upon the dregs of Sinai, requests for personal blessings and power to preach the Word, and thanksgiving for mercies and "Glimpses of the light" were never heard before nor since at that place. One sentence seemed to linger longest in the minds of the people: "O Lord, God 'lmighty, omnipotent an' beneficent Father; the Punisher of the wicked an' the Rewarder of the just; confound the sinful an' extol the righteous; cast down the erring an' lift up the elect; blot out the evil ones an' make the just to shine like the perfect day. Save us, save us, 0 save us from the follies of the world, the flesh, an' the devil, an' especially from that evil one who hides in his den on Chinkypin." When he had finished his prayer he arose and stood like an ancient prophet in the midst of his people. In his great voice he lined out the verses of the famous old song, "How Firm Page 16 Southern Mountain Life and Work January, 1926 a Foundation," and all the audience, even the simpering, skylarking youth, joined in and sang it. The old settlers reported that never before had they heard a gospel song sung with such fervor. At the end of the song he took his text, "Thou art Peter; and upon this rock will I build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it." He read the last phrase in a voice that echoed from the mountain side and sent a thrill of terror to the hearts of his audience. Aunt Lucinda said that after reading the text he looked down at the audience and cried out in a defiant voice, "I want um to be shore to hear that last part plum to the mouth of Chinkypin !" "Yes," he continued, "Thou art Peter, and upon this rock will I build my church." Then stretching his hands down towards his audience he exclaimed, "Thou art my people, and upon this rock," stamping the bowlder heavily, "will I found my church, and upon that rock right over there will I build my church, an' the gates of hell, much less Chinkypin, shall not prevail against it!" Then there followed an earnest message of hope and admonition to his people. It was not vindictive, but was full of righteous passion and determination. Three hours were needed for the delivery of the prayer and the sermon, but the audience "stuck it out," and when the meeting ended all went home hungry but loyal to their leader. Early on next morning a lone footman passing through the gap heard the sound of a woodman's axe ringing out among the trees on the mountain side. He knew from the sound that the axe was in experienced hands, for the ring of the axe reveals the skill-or the lack of it-in the chopper. Later in the day another footman heard strokes of a different kind. Forcing his way through the underbrush he discovered Old Osborne standing on a log "scoring" it to make ready for the broad axe. A few yards away the broad axe was leaning against a tree, and his marking line lay on top of a gourd containing a paste of pulverized firecoals. The old fellow was hewing out logs for the new church that was to be founded upon the rock. He was then on his fourth log and it was a little past noon. "Gittin' out logs, air ye?" inquired the footman. "Yeh, tryin' to." "Gettin' um for the new church house?" "Yeh." The old man lost not a stroke during the conversation. He was there to work, not to talk. He had selected his trees for logs without consulting anyone, for that was in the day when every tree was everybody's tree. It was at the time when stately chestnuts were felled at night for raccoons; when oaks containing large quantities of the finest material were thrown for cuts to make a few hundred boards or palings; when walnuts which would now be worth hundreds of dollars were chopped into cuts and split into fence rails, and when immense poplars were brought down for a few pints of honey. He got whatever he wanted wherever he could find it, and no man denied him the right to take it. Next morning before the sun had climbed above the mountain top more than a dozen men and boys were climbing slowly up among the trees to a place where the ring of a solitary axe could be distinctly heard. Some had chopping axes, some broad axes, and others carried crosscut saws. Some of the boys carried gourds containing a paste made of pulverized charcoal. They were all faithful followers of Old Osborne, and believed with him that "God 'lmighty runs this universe an' tells the Son an' the Holy Sperrit what they must do." They had come out to help the lone worker fell trees, trim, score, line, and hew them into logs for the new building. Zachariah Finely spoke first: "Well, Brother McConnico, we're all hereto hep you out. Jes tell us what to do an' we'll git at it." "Well", replied the old preacher without missing a stroke, "you taint make a house outn trees that are standin' up. I'm on my eighth log, an' it'll take nigh on to sixty more." The party needed no further instructions. Every man of them knew a good tree, and all of them could chip out a gash with accuracy and could split the line with a broad axe. They aanuary, 1926 Southern Mountain Life and Work Page 17 fell promptly to work, talking but little, for the experienced woodman wastes little energy in conversation when his axe is in play, and waked many an echo as tree after tree was thrown, scored and hewn into shapely logs. On that first day more than thirty logs were made ready, and by the end of the third day every log had been hewn and "snaked out" to the place where the new church was to be founded upon the rock. Then came the house raising. All the men and boys in the surrounding country-save those who lived far down on Chinkypin-came bringing saws, axes, augers and other tools to assist in the work. They came early, for the pioneer's work day was not a matter of hours; it lasted from dawn till dark. Zach Finley "carried up" one corner, and three other experienced men attended to the other corners. While the crowd worked they laughed and jested with one another keeping a stream of good-natured raillery flowing all the time. Old Osborne moved about among the workers giving a lift here, a bit of advice there, engaging some neighbor in good-neighborly banter, but never for a moment compromising his position as leader of the enterprise. One incident occurred which shocked the group and gave the whole neighborhood a fireside story to tell from that hour to the present day. Abe Land, a noisy, blustering wag, much given to playing rough jokes on his neighbors, had gone with a little group of men a short way into the woods to cut a skid-pole. While searching for a suitable tree he chanced upon a huge rattlesnake. Abe, who invariably insisted on doing the unusual thing, caught the serpent and carried it in his bare hands back to the group of workers. For a time he annoyed the men and boys by thrusting the snake close up to their faces while they were at work, whereupon the workers promptly dropped their tools and retreated. He continued this disturbing sport until the men grew tired of it. "Abe," said Zach Finley, "now you've acted a blasted fool with that there snake long enough. You're a -goin' a -keep on foolin' with it tell it bites you or someone else, an' then maybe you'll quit. Now you take it away from here an' kill it, or I be dadblasted if I dont." "All right, then; here it is!"-And Abe attempted to throw it at the speaker. But as he turned loose of its neck its folds held to his arm, and before he could seize its neck again it struck out and bit him on the side of the neck, burying its fangs deep in the flesh near a large vein. Whereupon he three it violently to the ground where it was promptly killed by the other men, and began calling for help. A jug containing whiskey was brought, for in those days a jug was always present at a house-raising even though the house might be a church, and a full quart or more was promptly administered to the sufferer. He lay down on some leaves and shavings and in a short time passed into a drunken stupor from which he never recovered. The effects of the snake poison and the alcohol combined were too much for him to resist, so he died a few hours afterwards. Everyone looked upon the incident as a direct pouring out of divine wrath upon Abe Land for playing pranks on his neighbors, and it was used by both fathers and mothers for more than a generation to frighten their adventurous children away from "snakey" places. Some of the men looked upon it as an evil omen for the church and the neighborhood. Others viewed it as unmistakably evidence that the Lord would smite the wicked who might attempt to interpose obstacles in the way of the growth of the church. But Brother Pete Greer of Sinai church was loud in proclaiming it a manifestation of the divine wrath aroused by the erection of another church in opposition to his own. And in this belief he had many followers. But Aunt Lucinda told of one of the "sisters in the Lord" who was outspoken in her conviction that "The Lord didn't have miry thing to do with that triflin', good-fur-nothin' Abe Land, any never had had. It was jest his bodacious devilment that got 'im in trouble, for he never was fitten to live with respectable folks. If he hadn't a-had holt of the snake an' been afoolin' with it he wouldn't a-been bit; an' that's all there wuz to it." Other women of the neighborhood shared her opinion. In two days the church was ready for the Page 18 Southern Mountain Life and Work January, 1926 roof. "Old Snipe" Beasley had stacks of wellseasoned boards containing "nigh on to enough to roof it in." These were secured on promise of being replaced as soon as "crappin' " time was over. On the third day the roof went on, and many of the seats were made ready. The latter were made from halves of small poplar or cherry logs into which long pegs were driven for supports. They were then made fairly smooth with axe, adz and shaving knife. The floor was laid of partly seasoned lumber which Old Osborne had cut with his whip-saw during the previous months. The seats were put into place, and the building was declared ready for the first service. The work was completed on Friday afternoon, and on the following Sunday the new church was dedicated. About nine o'clock on that Sunday morning all the people heard long, loud blasts from Old Osborne's hunting horn coming like the voice of a muezzin from a tall minaret calling the faithful to prayer. By ten-thirty all the people from Deerhide and the long ridge had come together, and a goodly number came from upper Chinkypin, some to worship, others to start trouble. Among the latter were "Hen" Womack and "Battercake" Baker, two notorious rowdies, who ran, drank, played poker, went to "shindigs," and fought together. They were past masters in the art of starting trouble at public gatherings, playing rascally pranks on their neighbors, and stealing basket dinners. They were proprietors of a gambling cave on a tributary of Chinkypin, a rockhouse quite popular among the adventurous young bloods of the valley. This cave was as popular with the younger set as Old Pete Swinford's moonshine was to the older and thirstier souls. These two rough riders of the back woods had long been sworn enemies of Old "Snipe" Beasley's eldest son, Jim "Snipe," and Calvin Sherrill, a nephew of the old preacher of Deerhide. They attempted to make things uncomfortable for these young woodmen whenever the opportunity came. The immediate cause of hostilities was a pretty flower of the hills, Mittie Swinford, daughter of the old moonshiner, who chanced to fall in love with Jim "Snipe" while "Hen" Womack was "a-talkin' to 'er." lvlittie was never happy with only one string on her harp, so she usually kept three or four in hailing distance, and quite often played one against the other. "Hen" determined to get rid of his competitor by fair means or foul, and since Jim "Snipe" persisted in the enjoyment of her much-sought-for smiles "Hen" marked him for a trouncing at the first opportunity. The dedication of the new church furnished the occasion and the crowd to see the fun. "Hen" therefore sought his pal, "Battercake" Baker, laid his plan before him, and the two resolved to make Jim "Snipe" "swaller his cud" right before Mittie and all her friends. With this end in view they rode along the ridge that morning from the head of Chinkypin to Sandstone Gap where the services were to be held. When the congregation had come together Old Osborne came down from "Blowing Rock," marched with stately stride through the crowd into the house and knelt for a time in the pulpit. Kenneth Baker, the "singin'est" man on Deerhide started the old song, "O for a Closer Walk with God," and all the people filed into the church, the women finding seats on one side and the men on the other. When the song was finished and the audience was settled the old preacher rose and welcomed the people to the new building, and assured them of the great blessings which awaited them because the new church had been built. Then he read the story of the two men who had builded their houses, the one upon the sand and the other upon the rock, reading from memory as was his custom. From this story as a text he entered upon a long discourse filled with hope, dogmatic assertions and evidences of the superiority of his faith and doctrine. And he failed not to pay ample respect to the "ungodly on Chinkypin." When he had consumed about an hour the attention of the congregation was suddenly attracted by the loud calling of a boy, and by a few people running towards the thicket at the spring. It was the voice of little Tony Rout who ran hurriedly from the thicket crying, "They're a-killin' Jim Snipe Beasley!" Most of the men and boys promptly left the church and ran towards the spring. Old Osborne paused for a moment, then tried to go on, but was January, 1926 Southern Mountain Life and Work Page 19 interrupted by a pistol shot and the screams of a woman. This emptied the church. Mothers caught up their children and sought safety behind the church or behind huge bowlders. Children cried for fear and clung close to their mothers and elder sisters. Billy Crutchfield was the first to reach the spring, and this was what he saw: "Hen" Womack and "Battercake" Baker were lying on the ground desperately wounded by pistol shots. Jim "Snipe" Beasley was backed up against a bowlder brandishing a knife and a club fighting off two fellows from Chinkypin, and Calvin Sherrill was leaning against a tree dazed and bleeding. Mittie Swinford was sitting behind a rock hastily loading a pistol. Before anyone could interfere she sprang forward, rushed at the two fellows attacking Jim "Snipe" and fired. One of the men flinched and caught himself on the shoulder, and both retreated hastily behind trees with Jim "Snipe" close at their heels. The pursuit was intercepted by friends who held Jim "Snipe" while other men hurried the wounded man and his companion away. Mittie had retired to reload the weapon but was seized by strong hands and disarmed. While some were looking after the dying men and the one badly wounded others obtained the story of how it all happened. Mittie Swinford told the story. Aunt Lucinda told it to me just as she had it from Mittie so many, many years ago. "I remember it as if it wuz yistiddy," she said. "I wuz a little bitty thing, but I stood right by my mother and heeard ever'thing Mittie said. She told how her an' Jim "Snipe" an' Calvin wuz a-goin' to the spring, an' had to pass right by whur Hen Womack an' Battercake Baker wuz a-standin' havin' talk about um. Some other fellers wuz a-standin' clost by. "When they got up to um Hen picked up a handful of gravel an' throwed it at um. Jim Snipe turned an' said, `Why in hdon't you throw sumpum bigger?' An' Hen says, `If you wuzn't sech a d- coward to hide behind a gal I would.' "Both Calvin an' Jim "Snipe" stepped away from Mittie an' told um to cut loose an' throw. Jest then Hen whipped out two pistols an' shot right at um but missed. Then Calvin an' Jim "Snipe" drawed their guns an' run at um an' shot. Jest as they done that Battercake knocked Calvin down with a rock, both of um wuz shot to death an' drapped on the ground. Two more Chinkypin fellers run up and jumped on Jim "Snipe before he could load his pistol. Mittie screamed an' run an' got Calvin's pistol an' went a-loadin' it. The fellers didn't pay no attention to her tell she run out an' shot one of um, an' then they put out. "While Mittie wuz a-tellin' about it she stood there glarin' lak a wildcat, an' she swore she'd a-shot um both if they'd astayed." This incident, according to Aunt Lucinda, broke up the meeting. The crowd fearing that others might come from Chinkypin to even up things thought it wise to disperse to their homes until the excitement passed. Thus ended the services that concluded the founding of the church at old Pizgah in the long, long ago. The occasion was marked with violence and great anxiety which promised further trouble for the neighborhood, yet this gloomy outlook was somewhat brightened by the faith and hopefulness of the sturdy people who dwelt among the hills at the head of Deerhide. THIS MAGAZINE SHOULD LIVE (Continued from. Page 2) a contributing editor and lend his experience and support to the extension of the usefulness of the magazine. This may be called an editorial appeal for the continuation of Mountain Life and Work. It is the last plea from the originator of the magazine to keep the work going, to improve the quality of the publication and widen its influence. "The mountains have been a great source of inspiration and power from the dawn of time. They have spoken to men in their savagery and transformed them into servants of God. They have kindled the faintest spark of divinity in the human soul and fanned it into a consuming flame."-V. Page 20 Southern Mountain Life end Work January, 1926 Need of Unity in the Mountains of Virginia By Edward W. Hughes Sitting, one evening, in the reading room of the Clinchfield Christian Association in the mining town of Dante, I was asked by Hunter, the carpenter preacher, if I had been to Pigeon Hill to hear Mays preach. "You ought to go," said Hunter. "He has a good crowd every night. You will hear some fine singing." A stranger in that locality, everything w a s new to me, coming as I did from work among the Indians in Canada. To attend one of preacher May's services w o u 1 d enlighten me on many points where I was completely ignorant. This was nearly twelve years ago; when I was a "furriner," and looked upon with something like suspicion. When it was learned I belonged to the Episcopal church, with which scarcely one of them was acquainted, there was a distrust that amounted to prejudice. As I had come into the field to carry on religious work among the miners and mountaineers, to attend some of May's preachings seemed an excellent way to get a point of contact with the people, and to establish friendly relations. I found a crowd gathered. The singing had commenced. Not many of the congregation joined in; it was left, principally, to the choir of men and women who volunteered for it. Three or four led in prayer, on request, and did it with much earnestness. The preacher seemed to begin with very little introduction, and go right into his subject at the start. It was an exhortation, and several times earnest "Amens" were heard, showing he had the sympathetic hearing which every preacher wants. As this was a revival, there was frequent urge upon the people to confess Christ, to come up to the front, to give their hand to the preacher as an evidence of their real intent. It was not long before there was evidence of a spiritual force at work. Several came up, some to be prayed for, others to join the church. The preacher employed his time during the day working in the machine shop for the coal company. He seemed to have the same characteristics that I found afterwards in the mountain people, being somewhat tall, spare of flesh, and in every sense a man. I found he belonged to the Missionary Baptists, but the government of the little church or congregation over which he was the self-appointed preacher was really Congregational. The ideas of Service, Worship, Devotion, were not very apparent. The only thought in the minds of both preacher and congregation was preaching. Of course they believed in prayer; they showed it in the fervency of their utterances. Praise was evident, for they sang frequently. These two acts alone would constitute worship, and real service to almighty God, but they were secondary; the preaching of the message was the foremost thing. Frequently since that day I have attended preachings, some good, some only fair, but my standard of value must be discounted. Some of the poorest preachings, as I compared them, were of great effect in moving the congregation, so by results the judgment should be made. DEDICATION OP A MINING COMMUNITY CHIT January, 1926 Southern Mountain Life,a,7ad Work Page 21 Some few years later a man named Wells preached on Sandy Ridge, holding service in Robert Meade's house. A goodly crowd gathered; two rooms could not contain the people. Again there was the same interest in song, the same fervency in prayer, but this time the discourse was expository rather than exhortive. The earnestness of the preacher was evident; his sincerity no one could doubt. He urged baptism, and did baptize many, but he disclaim learn, whether toward God or man, it has lost its greatness because it prevents cooperation. For this reason the mountain people would not join a church; no man was willing to submit himself to the authority of another. This lack of cooperation is felt in many ways. It is difficult to unite forces among the mountain people for any public improvementbuilding of roads, marketing of produce, even where the material gain would be great, mat A GROUP OF PREACHERS IN THE BLUE RIDGE ed any church membership. To belong to a congregation calling itself by any name was, in his eyes, not only unnecessary, but wrong. To belong to the faithful whose names are written above, and who will have seats at the right hand of the Majesty in the last day, was the only right way. I have recounted the two instances above because of the conclusions I arrived at. First, the personality of the men doing the preaching was a great force; with all their poor choice of words at times, they put the message over. Second, while individualism is a fine thing to realize, being the basis of our responsibility before God and of every lesson of duty that we ters of moral and social welfare-while the stamping out of disease, among both humans and stock, is even more difficult. This has had much to do with preventing any large improvements in Sunday School work. Plans may be laid, but it is impossible to carry them out with real satisfaction, and how much is lost to the Kingdom of God and of Christ, God only knows. Third, a very literal interpretation of the Bible is evident. Every word is considered as verbally inspired; strict attention is demanded of everyone who reads it to its commands, expressed and implied; God's sovereignty is supreme even to the denial of any free agency in man. To accept or reject Christ is practically Page 22 Southern Mountain Life and Work January, 1926 outside of the bounds of human possibility. God does it all. While all Christians acknowledge the power of God and the influence of the Spirit, the convictions of the mountain people carry them to the conclusion, "What is to be will be, so why make any effort?" A little girl living on Caney Creek was born with a reel foot. The father died some five or six years ago, and the mother married again and has other children. This girl is now eleven years old. Several attempts have been made to get the mother to allow the little one to be taken to Richmond where Dr. Graham, the celebrated orthopaedic surgeon, is so willing to render help to such children. The mother has always objected, first on one ground, then on another, saying it would kill the child, or it would hurt, but the last time she was approached she stated that God intended the girl to be so, else she would not have been born that way, and that it would be a sin to try to change God's work. No amount of argument that Christ came to heal as well as to save, and that He .gave command to His disciples to go out and heal as well as preach, has any effect upon her. This is only one instance out of many that could be mentioned. Unfortunately very little of the preaching that they have heard has attempted to correct this wrong impression. Can they be blamed? They are but creatures ,of circumstance, cut off from communication with the outside world for so many dears ; changes of fashion and enjoyment of luxuries, these things of the flesh, have crept in, but the things of the spirit have lagged in the race. One of our mountain workers remarked one day, "What a pity these mountain people are losing their initiative in the fireside arts. I cannot find anyone who cards, spins and weaves wool any more. I want one of those old fashioned hickory splint brooms; I want some of those home-made chairs with hickory splint bottoms, but the only man who makes them now lives too far away for me to reach him. The men go to work in the mines when they want anything, and after making a few dollars, 'buy store goods as being so much more attractive than the home-made." How human that is, anyway; we all do the same. If the worst influence of the mines upon the mountain people were only the creation of a desire to be dressed like others and to have the same comfort in their homes, no offence could possibly be taken. But it is a question if this can be laid to the mines. In these days of newspapers and magazines and easy travel, it would be a wonder if Mary would not want a ribbon or braid upon her dress, or John a suit of clothes of finer material than homespun with the change in the style of them. And it is usually to be observed that a man or woman who puts on clean and good clothes likes, as a rule, to make habits conform to the improved condition. The greatest evil that results from the mines lies in the fact that there is little or nothing constructive in mining work. Outside of the houses to be built and the equipment to be maintained, the work is of a destructive nature. If the miners could see the constructive end of their labor in the mills and factories which are run by steam, heated by the coal which they have mined, turning out quanities of beautifully finished goods, they would be stirred to improve on their work, but as it is, they see only a hole dug in the ground, and the coal, like so much dirt, carried away, the hole growing larger and the tally of cars greater as the days go by. Recklessness takes the place of caution, and carelessness the place of thrift, for it is proverbial that the miner, for all he gets a fair wage, is one of the last who tries to save. While the accumulation of money is neither the most desirable thing or the only desirable thing, it is a good indication of a man's habits, and a man who tries to save a little can be depended upon to fight temptation against slackness of life and conduct, all else being equal. Perhaps this belongs to the domain of social service, but it is hard to rule that kind of service out of the realm of practical religion, for when a man stands up, in his desire to consecration, to sing "My spirit soul and body, O Lord, I give to Thee", he wants that body to be clean and strong, as befits the temple the Good Book says his body is designed to be. Every day, as I have to come to know the mountain people better, I have learned to ap (Continued on Page 25) January, 1926 Southern Mountain Life and Work Page 23 Christianity in the Southern Mountains In this article we prefer to use the term Christianity rather than religion, because in these days the term religion is not definite enough for one to be understood in things spiritual. By Christianity we mean that religion or, worship, which is based wholly on the Bible as the inspired work of God. We have now spent over twenty years in close proximity to the Christianity of the Cumberlands. We believe we know something about By G. E. Dwcslzab one is "regarded with suspicion" who attends prayer meetings, really worshipping. We are trying to say that here in the Mountains one may yet find Christianity in its simplicity, in its adoration of deity, in real worship, and in the recongnition of the Bible as the real word of God, and not just containing some of the word of God. In the early days of Christianity in England, the artist pictures a group of worshippers behind barred doors and win A MODERN ROAD IN THE MOUNTAINS Through the Building of Such Roads a New Church Life will be Developed it. Our first years in the Mountains found us looking much askance at its worship with the native mountaineer preacher of the Cumberlands, and we have heard him, tho uneducated in what we commonly understand to be an education, preach sermons which have rung true to the Gospel, in fact much truer than many sermons we have heard from the so-called educated preacher. In saying this we do not mean to say that an education is not worth while for the minister, for it is. But we do mean just what we have said. Here in the Cumberlands we have found real pristine worship, pregnant with life. In many places here in the Mountains it is still "fashionable" to worship God as a real God, mighty and omnipotent, and no dows. Eagerness for worship and devotion were prominent traits brought out by the artist. We have seen this devotion in worship in the Cumberlands, and it is worth something to have a part in such worship. In saying this we are not unmindful of some exceptions, where the Mountain illiterate preacher is not orthodox, and where he has mannerisms which do not make for efficiency. But on the whole, real, pure, true worship is often found. Now, if the above is true, why send missionaries to the Southern Mountaineers? The question is a pertinent one. Who knows but that it will not be very far in the future when from these very Mountains will go missionaries to other sections of our country? A friend Page 24 Southern Mountain Life and Work January, 1926 of ours spent some years in the Cumberlands as a missionary. Later he went back to his home to live. We quote from one of his letters "I am astounded at what I see going on in the church here. It seems to me that instead of sending misc;nnaries to the Cumberlands, the Cumberlanas ought to be sending them to Northern Ohio." However, we believe that there is still the challenge of the need of missionaries among the Mountaineers of the Southland. There are not enough native preachers, and some of them do not do very effective work. Too much time intervenes between their regular services. Their DR. JONATHAN C. DAY A Son of the Cumberlands, now a Prominent Minister in New York City work is not organized as it should be to be really effective. Most of the native mountain preachers have no special education or training in matters of organization. It seems to us that the mountains need spirit-filled men and women who can work with the native talent,-men and women with a strict absence of ridicule in cases where the native preacher lacks some things which pert society now seems to demand. In this work among the Cumberlands, one of the most effective channels is that of the school. The real mission school can and should do at once all the real church work in matters of worship, and then added to that give the training in educational matters which is so much needed: The Bible, the first book of the school, studied by all who enter; the curriculum then to include all the work of the grades up to the twelfth or fourteenth, vocational training for both girls and boys. Thus you have a plant that offers doubtless the largest opportunity for real development and progress. In short, it seems to us that the supreme task of philanthropy, of our present Christianity, is not that the Mountains be religiously modernized in the sense of Bible emasculation, but that the present faith, the present simplicity of worship be kept as a priceless heritage from which shall come our great reformers for the time and age that shall loudly call for such. FROM COVE TO COMMUNITY (G'o7atinvecl from Page 4) siti~es and colleges as to the probable centers of greatest usefulness, both for the boardingschool and the community work. A second inference is as to the kind of activ:Iy of the social and religious worker in the mountains. It is no longer necessary, as it was imperative twenty years ago, to interpret religious work in educational terms. Better now to stimulate the people to secure from the state what is their right, in terms of public schools. Now the settlementworker and missionary had better study the growing community life and attempt to assist the social process. The laggard in the process is the marketing of local products and the buying at retail. The local worker therefore will do well to leave education to the state for the present and turn attention to marketing. Organize a creamery or a cooperative exchange. Assemble the farmers in a unit that will purchase a truck, to take out over the graded road the butter, eggs and pork, that farmers know how to produce. Take example from the Farmer's Federation which is centered now in Asheville and has warehouses on local junctions of road and railroad, for the assembling of farmers' products that will sell in the cities. It was organized by a Christian minis January, 1926 Southern Mountain Life,and Woe°k Page 25 ter. Take example out of the experience of Smith, Kentucky, where a missionary worked for several years in creating a cooperative store, in order that her people might buy their dressgoods, overalls, tobacco, sugar and other goods at cost. It was organized by Helen Dingman who entered the community as a religious leader. This essay may well conclude with an exhortation to college professors, that they study the process of change of the social unit of the mountains. We need monographs upon the COIN' TO bIEETIN' IN THE MOUNTAINS subjects, in order that our local workers, and the agencies which support them may know how to conserve their efforts, and invest their lives and their funds with greater economy. Only the learned can render this service. If there is waste of consecrated lives in the next generation the responsibility will be theirs. What is a community? It differs from a "cove," which was a kinship group. It is the habitat of a farm-family, in which the more spiritual processes are carried on, such as education, religion, visiting, marrying, buying and selling. It does not necessarily include banking or wholesaling. It is evidently laid out upon a larger geographical base than it was, in the Mountain country as in the rest of rural America. But just what it is to include, in detail, in the Mountains, is yet to be determined by students. We who are moved by the Divine Spirit o serve await in this matter the direction of those who observe, study and who record the movements of human life. NEED OF UNITY IN THE MOUNTAINS OF VIRGINIA (Continued from Page 22) preciate their work. There are very many real men among them. The women are splendid; their patience and fortitude are remarkable. They are, as a people, very religious. They may be narrow in some of their views, according to the minds of some, but for rectitude, real honesty and truthfulness, they will compare favorably with other citizens anywhere. I am afraid that, instead of their learning anything from my teaching, I have been learning from them-this much at any rate, "to run with patience the race that is set before us." "Be sure no earnest work Of any honest creature, howbeit weak, Imperfect, ill-adapted, fails so much, It is not gathered as a grain of sand To enlarge the sum of human action used For carrying out God's ends. No creature works So ill, observe, that therefore he's cashiered. The honest man must stand and work, The woman also-otherwise she drops At once below the dignity of man, Accepting serfdom. Free men freely work. Whoever fears God, fears to sit at ease." -E. B. Browning BENEDICTION: FOR A HOSPITAL This is a House of Peace Let no man go But knows white wings hang low Above the lintel-stone; But knows the Healer stands, Compassion in his hands, To bless his own. This is a House of Peace .... Peace. Mildred Fowler Field. Page 26 Southern Mountain Life and Work January, 1926 Folk-Lore By Lucy Clayton Newman Education, as we use the word today, is based on the printed word and our ability to read and understand it. We can scarcely realize that it has not always been so. It is true that some people of very ancient times had a high civilization and often attained great culture, but this was after all, only a very limited number of the inhabitants of those ancient empires. The great Egyptian rulers and a few of the retainers of the royal household-physicians, astronomers and poets were instructed in the art of reading and writing by means of crude pictures and later by the cuneiform characters; but the masses of Egypt were entirely ignorant of any form of communication other than by "word of mouth." Slaves, who constituted a large part of the population of all early empires, scarcely knew of the existence of the art of writing. Greece and Rome each in turn, enjoyed a period of great culture and the art of writing was well known to both of these peoples. But, again it was only the great persons who were taught to put thoughts into written words. When Egypt had passed the zenith of her glory and the legends of Greece had become old stories; when the Roman Empire was enjoying her strength among the nations of the earth, our ancestors were roving over the mountains and plains of western Europe in a stage of semi-barbarity. Writing was not at that time, playing any part (locally at least) in the history of the ancestors of the English, Irish, Scotch, Welsh or German peoples. We Kentuckians, for the most part, trace our ancestry back to one or more than one of these nations. Tradition tells us that Alfred the Great, who was an English king of the ninth century, was the only one of a family of several sons who learned to read. This was of so much importance that it became a matter of history. Only a thousand years ago, that it was a great event in the life of an English prince to learn to read! Is it any wonder that ours is a language full of tradition and folk-songs? How many generations of our ancestors told their children and grandchildren of the wonderful exploits of Beowulf, before the tales were even recorded in manuscript? How many of the wonderful adventures of Robin Hood, the boys' favorite outlaw, were attributed to him after Robin had long since shot his last arrow? Anecdote after anecdote was added to the history of these medieval heroes until there can be no doubt now, that each one of them is a complete character of many men, whose deeds of daring were similar. One by one incidents of daring adventure were added to the stories of the battle-scarred heroes-stories oft told and that lost nothing in the telling. Thus, a whole literature grew up; song and story, "Ballads and tales" our ancestors called them. We will group these loosely, for convenience, under one head-Englis' Folk-lore. Ours is the only folk-lore in which the supernatural rarely occurs, due no doubt, to the recent (speaking of course of all known time) setting of our legends. Greek legends, for instance are so old that their origin is lost in antiquity. It is not to be understood that printing from movable type (which process was invented during the fifteenth century) put an end to folk tales and ballads. Not by any means. Traditions were still kept alive, especially those relating to the nation's heroes. In fact, we are today indulging to a certain extent in the pleasant occupation of weaving folk tales. Have we not thrown a glamor around the adventures incident to the pioneer lives of the men and women who settled Kentucky? Are not most of the stories about the antique furniture, more especially those of the large clocks that came over to America on the Mayflower legends? We think so, for the class of people who make up the rank and file of "dissenters" to any regular established order of things are not usually, the wealthy class, and only persons of .wealth could afford to own clocks of any kind so long ag January, 1926 Southern Mountain Life ;and Work Page 27 as 1620. The Puritans left their sundials and brought their hour-glasses, but for the most part the "grandfather clock" story is a New England myth. Also, if Abraham Lincoln had told all the stories that have been accredited to him, he would have had very little time to do anything else. Yes, we are still weaving folk tales about great events and great men. It was during the fifteenth century, that the first printing presses were set up, and books ceased to be so rare and expensive that only kings and other great persons might hope to own them. However, this did not put books within reach of even middle-class people and children were still taught history and poetry around the fireside. These old tales, some of them highly legendary, and the favorite ballads were heard over and over again until the very phraseology of them was almost unchanged for generations. For two hundred years, or from the settlement of Virginia at Jamestown in 1607 until the beginning of the nineteenth century, most of the people who came to America to make their homes came from the British Isles. There were of course, a few continental Europeans who came to America, but the English speaking people seem to have been the ones who left their imprint on the literature of the Colonial period of our country. By literature, we mean not only the classical writings of the New England religious leaders and the historical writings of John Smith, John Bradford and others, but we mean also, the unwritten legends, and the folk tales of the people. How many of these stories have eventually crept into print and have become an undisputed part of our nation's history, no one can say. These same English speaking colonists, some of whom by the way, were of gentle birth, but who under colonial pioneer conditions were deprived of the advantages of even the rudiments of an education, are the people who kept alive English, Irish and Scotch folklore on this continent through two centuries just mentioned-from 1600 to 1800. Early in the nineteenth century schools became available to most of the people of the United States. More of the population learned to read and write thin at any time previous in the history of our coun. try. Of course, those persons who went a great distance from the settled parts of the country to make their homes, were out of touch with schools; so also, were people who chose to locate in the mountainous parts of those states which are crossed by the Appalachian system. It is to these latter that we are indebted for most of our knowledge of the folk-lore of the English language and kindred tongues. Our own Cumberland mountains are inhabited by the descendants of English, Irish, Scotch and Welsh colonists. These people are still relating the folk tales and singing the old ballads of their ancestors-and ours. In this part of our own state one may hear the old tales, often told as Christopher Marlowe or William Shakespeare might have told them. Quaint old ballads, the words of which (in some cases) have never been printed, but which may have been sung around the great open fire-places in Queen Elizabeth's castle. Many of these ballads are sung in minor key to the accompaniment of instruments, often home made. In recent years, some of these ballads have been printed and set to the music to which they have been sung for centuries; but for some reason they do not sound the same sung from the page. There is a subtile something, indescribable that makes the difference. To reduce to print these old ballads, even though the minor chord is emphasized, is to some way modernize them, and thus rob them of a part of their charm. It is only a question of time now, until this interesting folk-lore-the quaint tales and the charming ballads will be lost to us in their natural form. The weird old tales will gradually be edited; the meter of the ballads will gradually become standardized until~our descendants will know them as "Old legends told in modern English" or perhaps we should say "in present day American." Taken out of their present setting, some of them will become commonplace -not really worth saving and so entirely lost. The Folk-lore Societies in this state are making an effort to preserve the folk tales and songs to our posterity, but there is an intangible quality about Enklish folk-lore that can only (Continued on Page- 30) Page 28 Southern Mountain Life tend Work January, 1926 Books for Church and Community Life Contributed "Books are friends which man may call his own. . . The friendship of books never dies it grows by use, increases by distribution, and possesses an immortality of perpetual youth. It is the friendship, not of "dead things" but of ever-living souls; and books are friends who, under no circumstances, are ever appealed to in vain. They can be relied on, whoever else, or whatever else may fail. "As companions and acquaintances books are without rivals. In the good sense of the phrase, they are all things to all men, and are faithful alike to all." Langford. So well do we recognize the truth and the wisdom of the above thought and know the value of such friends and companions that we are suggesting a list of books which we hope may prove to be just the friends and companions needed by our neighbors who are interested in church and community growth and development, but who do not have access to a large library. Pastors, Sunday School superintendents, teachers, young peoples' leaders, parents, and the young people themselves, will each find lasting and valuable friends in this list. Alexander, J. L. ed. Sunday School and the Teens. Association Press, 347 Madison Ave., New York City. Banks, L. A. Christ's Soul Searching Parables. Fleming H. Revell & Co., New York City. Beard, A. F. Story of Frederick Oberlin. Pilgrim Press, 14 Beacon St., Boston, Mass. Bricker, G. A. Solving the Country Church Problem. Methodist Book Concern, 150 Fifth Ave., New York City. Cheley, Frank H. The Job of Being a Dad. W. A. Wilde Co., 9 South Clinton St., Chicago, Ill. Gook, Edmund F. Missionary Message of the Bible. Cokesbury Press, 810 Broadway, Nashville, Tenn. Drummond, Henry Greatest Thing in the World. T. Y. Crowell Co., 387-393 Fourth Ave., New York City. Earp, Edwin L. Rural Church Serving the Community. Abingdon Press, 420 Plum St., Cincinnati, Ohio. Eddy, Sherwood. Facing the Crisis. George H. Doran Co., New York City. Espey, Clara E. Leaders of Girls. Abingdon Press, 420 Plum St., Cincinnati, O. Fosdick, Harry E. Meaning of Faith. Association Press, 347 Madison Ave., New York City. Foster, Eugene C. Boy and the Church. Sunday School Times Co., 1031 Walnut St., Philadelphia, Pa. Gates, Herbert W. Recreation and the Church. University of Chicago Press, 5750 Ellis Ave., Chicago, III. Gray, James M. Primers of Faith. Fleming H. Revel & Co., New York City. Griffith Thomas, W. H. How to Study the Four Gospels. Sunday School Times Co., 1031 Walnut St., Philadelphia, Pa. Hughes, Edwin H. A Boy's Religion. Methodist Book Concern, 150 Fifth Ave., New York City. Jones, Mary Alice. Training Juniors in Worship. Macmillan Co., New York City. Kennedy, Mrs. M. G. Our Boys and Girls. W. A. Wilde Co., 131 Clarendon St., Boston, Mass. McKeever, Wm. A. Training the Boy. Macmillan Co., New York City. McKeever, Wm. A. Training the Girl. Macmillan Co., New York City. Quayle, William A. Out-of-doors with Jesus. Abingdon Press, 420 Plum St., Cincinnati, Ohio. Slattery, Margaret. Girl and Her Religion. Pilgrim Press, 14 Beacon St., Boston, Mass. Slattery, Margaret. Girl in Her Teens. Sunday School Times do., 1031 Walnut St., Philadelphia, Pa. Smith, F. W. How to improve your Sunday School. Abingdon Press, 420 Plum St., Cincinnati, Ohio. January, 1926 Southern Mountain Life and Work Page 29 Sperry, Willard L. Reality in Worship. Macmillan Co., New York City. Trine, A. W. What All the World's A-seeking. T. Y. Crowell Co., 387-393 Fourth Ave., New York City. Ward & Edwards. Christianizing Community Life. Association Press, 347 Madison Ave., New York City. Wilson, Warren H. Church of the Open Country. Missionary Education Movement, 150 Fifth Ave., New York City. Wilson, Warren H." Church of the Center." Missionary Education Movement, 150 Fifth Ave., New York City. Wilson, Warren H. The Farmer's Church. Century Co., 353 Fourth Ave., New York City. MOUNTAIN FORESTS AND FUTURE INDUSTRY One of the greatest economic questions confronting the people of the Southland is closely related to the conservation of forest trees on ;,he hills and mountains where the southern streams have their origin. The experiences of China, France, Italy, Spain, and other countries which have suffered from disastrous floods entailing great loss of property and life, point a finger of warning towards the people of our southern states who are the custodians of most of the forests left standing among the hills and mountains. Forests furnish the raw material for hundreds of different industries whereby thousands of our people live. Homebuilding, the printing business, the leather business, the furniture business, the making of farm implements, the wide range of industries founded for the purpose of putting out the numerous cellulose products familiar to every American are more or less directly dependent on an abundant timber supply. The forests hold the soil on hillsides and mountain sides which if properly cared for will go on producing indefinitely. They assure a plentiful supply of water for power, for stock and for all kinds of personal use. They guarantee a retreat for our native fish which play so great a part in the food supply of thousands of poeple. They furnish the only adequate means of preventing disastrous floods in the lowlands, floods which destroy crops, fields, farm buildings, and human life. They add a beauty to the landscape which cannot be obtained by any other means whatsoever. They help to regulate the temperature and have much to do with the health conditions of the region where they grow. They offer food and shelter to the numerous forms of wild life much of which is necessary to hold in check the myriads of insects that prey upon garden vegetables, field crops, shrubbery and many of the necessities of life. Insect pests, if allowed to flourish without natural enemies, would soon convert much of our sunny Southland into an uninhabitable region. Birds are the most effective weapon man has for guarding against the ravages of insects. Remove the forests and the birds go elsewhere, because the forests with their minute insect life are the source of food for the birds. As a means of preventing floods the forests along the upper reaches of streams are indispensable. The disastrous floods an recent years along some of the rivers of China have come largely as a result of deforestation among the hills and mountains at the source of the streams. A similar cause explains the great damage wrought by the Po and other streams of Italy. Whole farms have been swept away, life has been lost, and damage amounting to many millions of lira has come because the people at the headwaters of the streams were more interested in immediate gains than they were in the welfare of those who lived along the streams in the lowlands. In France the Seine has likewise destroyed millions of francs worth of property,, and has swept away food and fields and human beings in its mad rush from the denuded hills where it has its origin. Various examples of western streams might be cited to show the almost certain disaster to the people of the lowlands which results from the removal of timber from the land about the head-springs, of the rivers. Within the next fifty years people liv Page 30 Southern Mountain Life and Work January, 1926 ing along the streams of southeastern America may expect to suffer from floods as the people of certain other nations have suffered, unless a far-reaching program is laid out which will assure a permanent supply of forest growth on the watersheds of our southern streams. There is one significant bit of geography which everybody living south of the Ohio river ought to know. If one should stand on the top of Mt. Mitchell, North Carolina, with a rod 75 miles long and inscribe a circle with that rod as a radius, he would include within that circle the head springs of almost every important river in southeastern United States. Thus the material destinies of hundreds of thousands of our southern people who live along the Yadkin, the Cape Fear, the Oconee, the Santee, the Savannah, the Tennessee, the Cumberland, the New, and a score of other streams are closely related to the preservation of an abundance of forest growth on the area surrounding Mt. Mitchell. It is important to preserve the forests on the uplands of various other sections, but the Mt. Mitchell country is so closely bound up with the future prosperity of people living in the lowlands that its significance cannot be overlooked by southern economists and statesmen. The matter of conserving the forests is important enough to enlist the interest not only of the farmer but of merchants, manufacturers, and all others connected in any way with our industrial life. It also has its appeal to the teacher, the minster, the editor, and the social worker. It is more or less intimately related to the whole life of our people. Remove the forests from the watersheds without providing for their renewal and a very large portion of our industry will be crippled for at least a part of the year. Forests assure an abundant and constant stream flow which is essential to efficient power-production. The only substitute for forests would be huge reservoirs which could be provided only at great expense and with no -small degree of danger to neighboring land owners. The men who are backing the program which aims at the utilization of the available water power of the Southland could well afford to become staunch conservationists and work with other agencies for the protection of the 'factors upon which their business depends. As the power created at the numerous power plants is distributed more widely over the land a very large portion of the population will become more or less dependent on the constant whirring of generators driven by constant stream flow which can be assured only by an abundance of forested land about the heads of the streams. If this super-power system is developed fully, as we have reason to believe it will be developed, the life of almost everyone in the region will be affected. The only safe insurance against future business disaster will be found in an adequate program for reforestation for the region where the springs exist that furnish the power that turns the wheels of the hydro-electric business. And inasmuch as the prosperity and happiness of such a large portion of the Southland are in a very vital way related to water supply and forest conservation, I feel justified in it sisting that no other economic question now before the people of our region deserves more serious consideration at the hands of economists and statesmen than does this one. John F. Smith Berea College FOLK-LORE (Continued from Page 27) be preserved for us by human speech, by gesture, by a symathetic understanding between those who relate the tales or sing the ballads, and those who listen to them. History had its beginning in the folk-lore of the earth's inhabitants. Wordsworth has well said "The child is father of the man." "The only way of avoiding war is by spreading among the religious men of all lands the belief that it is a false remedy for all evils. War should be outlawed and declared a crime and there should be substituted a policy of friendship and understanding for force." -Sir Henry January, 1926 Southern Mountain Life and Work Page 31 Educational Directory of the Mountains We solicit educational and other service institutions for the Directory. The purpose is to acquaint the world with the different kinds of institutions that are serving the mountains, to widen the connections of the institutions and to get funds to help support the magazine. One insertion costs $10.00 while a contract by the year secures four insertions for $20.00. The following notices represent the general form for this Directory. Crossnore School, Incorporated CROSSNORE, N. C. REV. C. McCOY FRANKLIN Pres. of Board of Trustees DR. MARY MARTIN SLOOP Business Manager PURPOSE To give a well rounded Christian education through an accredited High School, with standard vocational training, to mountain boys and girls who are not financially able to attend a more expensive school, and who must be allowed to earn a living while they learn a trade. A NON-DENOMINATIONAL SCHOOL Connected with and supplementing the local public school, under the control of a Board of Trustees who comprise the Corporation. BEREA COLLEGE And Allied Schools BEREA,KENTUCKY WM. J. HUTCHINS, D.D., Pres. !1Z. E. Vaughn, Sec. H. E. TAYLOR, Bus. Mgr. T, J. OSBORNE, Treas. Co-educational institution for young men and young women of the Southern Mountains. All grades taught from elementary school thru standard college degrees. All students earn a portion of their expenses. Cash cost reduced to the minimum to meet the needs of the greatest number of promising young people; taught by a Christian faculty, from the leading Protestant denominations; supported by endowment and public contributions. Cumberland Mountain School CROSSVILLE, TENN. R. R. PATY, Principal REV. C. E. HAWKINS, Regent The school is under the auspices of the Tennessee Conference of the M. E. Church, South. The School is supported by Conference appropriations, small scholarship endowments, and gifts from Missionary Societies, Epworth League, Sunday Schools, and individuals. The school is literary and vocational, and offers standard High School work. Students are admitted to the Boarding Department who had completed the Sixth Grade. Over half of the students work their way. All students work at least two hours per day. If further information is needed address communication to Principal. State Teachers College EAST RADFORD, VIRGINIA DR. JOHN PRESTON McCONNELL, President Trains teachers for all classes of schools. Gives special emphasis to training of rural teachers, rural supervisors, specialists in rural education, and rural leadership. Strong courses in community organization and co-operative efforts. Much emphasis on Home Economics and Homemaking. Two-year courses for teachers in the elementary schools. Four-year college courses with Bachelor's degree. For catalog and full information, write the president. Page 32 Southern Mountain Life and Work January, 1926 If you want to get better acquainted with one of the greatest grand divisions of the U. S. send $1.00 at once. Special Offer to First Year' Subscribers Get the first number and build an encyclopedia of information on the life and work of the Appalachian Mountains. The traditions, the romances, the struggles, the ambitions, the occupations of the great mountain region are sufficient to keep a magazine teeming with interest to the thoughtful reader. The resources of the hills, the scenic beauty of the landscape are alluring to capitalists and vacation hunters. All of this and more will be written about by men and women who know the facts and will tell the truth. There will be an occasional story that will grip the imagination of the reader. Here is the Proposition There will be very few advertisements in this magazine as we will not seek to give publicity to all sorts of things that are upon the market. By limiting our advertising to a select group of institutions and businesses we greatly limit our income. We must make the regular subscription price of MOUNTAIN LIFE AND WORK $1.00 a year. If you have a friend who should take Mountain Life and Work send the name along with your own. MOUNTAIN LIFE AND WORK, BEREA, KENTUCKY. Mountain Life and Work A Magazine devoted to the In terest o f the Appalachian Mts. The idea of your new magazine appeals to me. Send me your current number, ff I find it to be what you have said it is I will send yon $1.00 for a year's subscription. the Lord's Garden A few days' work in His garden, Far away 1 heard the voices The dear Lord gave me to do, 0 f fellow-servants so gay, And 1 went to my task so gladly, As they worked in bands together, 1 thought 'twoulcL be something new; While I wrought alone all day; Some dainty task 'mong the flower°s, And tearing my hands with thistles, That would show my skill and taste, With heart so heavy and sad, But alas! 1 sat down in sorrow, To weep at the woeful waste. For He sent me to a corner, Where it seemed no flower could bloom, A tangled thicket of rankest weeds, As damp and as dark as a tomb; But 1 said, "The dear Lord sent me," So in tears the task begun, In cleaning out the rubbish From morn to set of sun. But slowly the task grew lighter, As 1 cleared the rubbish away, And the soft brown earth lay open, To the light and warmth of day; The Master came down at the night fall, And gave me a smile so sweet, I knew He was pleased with the service, Though so rough and incomplete. And never a flower to cheer me, Or a song to make me glad. For He said, "Dear heart, be patient, I bring you some seeds to sow In the soft brown soil, for watching To see that they thrive and grow." So my heart grew light and gladsome, For the corner, dark and wild, Where 1'd wrought in tears and sadness, In growing loveliness smiled. I watched and tended my corner, 1 gave it most fruitful care, In pruning and training the tender plants, Till they bloomed with fragrance rare. The Master came to His garden, Again at set of sun, And 1 ran with joy to meet Him, For He said, "Dear child, well done." -Zion's Watchman.

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