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Updated: May 11, 2025
Sandy, however, was permanently among the unconverted, and therefore to be feared, as being always ready to stand up for his employer, either with voice or blow. The unexpected incident Mr. Benderson had witnessed suggested no remarks at the time, so, being a wise man, he said nothing. The congregation wondered how he had known Macdonald was at the door, and none more than Macdonald himself.
It seemed to many that the revivalist had a gift of divination denied to themselves, and this belief left them in a frame of mind more than ever ready to profit by the discourse they were about to hear. Mr. Benderson began in a low monotone, that nevertheless penetrated to every part of the room.
The other remained as he was with bowed head, for what appeared to be a long time. A deep silence fell on all present. Even the whisperings among the scoffers ceased. At last Mr. Benderson slowly raised his head, arose, and came to the front of the platform. He had a strong, masterful, clean-shaven face, with the heavy jaw of a stubborn man a man not easily beaten.
"Yes; I get a lot of help from you while there's a stick to whittle," replied the smith. "Then there's the protracted meeting to-night at the schoolhouse," put in another, anxious that all the attractions of the place should be brought forward. "That's so," said the whittler; "I had forgotten about that. It's the first night, so we must all be there to encourage old Benderson.
Benderson, who had that gift abnormally developed, was too valuable to be localized; so he spent the year going from place to place, sweeping, driving, coaxing, or frightening into the fold those stray sheep that hovered on the outskirts; once they were within the religious ring- fence the local minister was supposed to keep them there.
I said: 'God telegraphed to me. They took me to the bedside of my young friend, whom I had last seen as hearty and strong as anyone here." Mr. Benderson then, in a voice quivering with emotion, told the story of the deathbed scene.
The local preacher stood on the edge of the platform, beating time gently with his hymn book, but not singing, as he had neither voice nor ear for music, and happily recognized the fact. The singing was led by a man in the middle of the room. At the back of the platform, near the wall, were two chairs, on one of which sat the Rev. Mr. Benderson, who was to conduct the revival.
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