"
I did not speak a word, for I was too full of conflicting feelings; but I
put on my bonnet and Sister Elliott asked me what I was going to do. I
told her that I did not know, but for her to come with me. We walked
down to Henry Durst's place, a distance of half a mile. I fell down on my
knees before the screen and began to call on God. There were five men
in there drinking. I was indifferent to those passing the street. It was a
strange sight to see women on their knees on the most prominent part
of the street. I told God about this man selling liquor to this woman's
husband, and told Him she had been washing to get bread, and asked God
to close up this den and drive this man out. Mrs. Elliott also prayed. We
then told this man that God would hear and that hell was his portion if
he did not change. In a short time he closed his bar, left his family
there, and went to another state. His property was sold gradually and he
never returned, except to move his family away, and I heard afterwards
he was reduced to poverty.
Another jointist was named Hank O'Bryan. In passing his place one
night from prayer-meeting, I smelled the horrid drink and went in. A
man by the name of Grogan was there, half drunk, and I said: "You have
a dive here." Mr. Grogan replied: "No, Mother Nation, you are wrong,
and I can prove it."
"Let me see what you have in the back room," I asked. "All right,
Mother," he said, and took me through several windings, until I came to a
very small room with a table covered with beer bottles, that had been
recently emptied, and in one corner sat a man, Mr.
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