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THE I am going to send you 60 of my best faith books, on casting out devils, healing the sick, faith, Holy Ghost, prophecy, and almost every subject of the Bible. You will be on my prayer list every day until Jesus comes. I'U pray that you will have a double portion ministry. I want you to be my partner and pray _ for me. When you finish reading these books and filling out the test papers we will send you a diploma which you can frame and have on your wall. It will remind you that I am praying for you every day, that you are my partner in Vl prayer. If you are a minister you may receive a license to preach. There is no charge for the packing, boxing, storage, shipping, postage, exam papers, grading, secretary expense, diplomas, or ordination papers. Your dues will be paid up for life. (Others charge $12.00 per year and up). You can pay for them $.50 per week or send in the name of one new student per month, either one you you choose. If you send one name per month all the textbooks are free. Q__






Dear TVD Staff:

I will send 50 cen;::X: who, wants this course. Vl time each day. I'll b~

Z t-cc:.

Please send the 60 W. V. Grant faith books. per week, or one name per month, of someone Put me on your prayer your partner.

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list. P'ray for me at a certain



I want a license to preach when I finish the books. I understand the licensO costs no money and my dues will be paid for life. (To forlle another's --l

signature is fraud.) YOUR SIGNATURE





- 'N.V. Grant




Acts 24-14.

"But this I confess unto thee, that after the way THEY I t~e God of my fathers, believing ALL things which are Written In the Law and in the prophets ..

cap heres~, so wors~ip

. ...

By: Evangelist Herschel Murphy I was born the FIRST time January 29th, 1903. Then, I was born "Again" December 24th, 1918! . Corning from old "Holiness" stock, I had a good relIgIOUSbackground somewhat like the rich Young Ruler. Both parents had been members of a nominal church in the beginning, before I was ever born. Father smoked and chewed the weed, cursed and swore, drank and fought with the worst of them. He rode the GOAT rather than followed the Lamb of God! My mother, also, was an addict to the filthy weed, brushing her teeth daily with a liheral portion of Levi's, and was a member of the "Western Star" auxiliary of father's secret order. Things moved along like this until an old-fashioned Holiness tent meeting came to the little communitv with the announced intention of staying a MONTII- . something unheard of in revival circles. Their "1'1"0tracted" meetings usually ran a week or ten days, "' most. In fact, one of the natives, a villarr wis,: hoy, undertook to question the stammering and slllfft'I'in~ evangelist thusly: "Say Mister, what's it gonna be 11('(',' /I 't'1l1. SHOW?" "Y-v-v-v-ves S-s-s-sir, we're going to SI lOW III'oJlI~ how to get S-s-s-s-saved, that's what W("!'I" goilll-:


"Well, now Mister, is that so? Whnt SOl" of i-hurch ye belong to?" "B-b-b-b-brothcr. wu'rr- l l-b-h-h-holinr-s-, tolks!" "You don't say! W('II, I," nil' 'I'll YOIl som'" hing, Mister, there ain't. any l Iolinosx p"opl,' nnywlu-rr- around here, thoro ain"!" "W-w-w-w-WI'II, S-s-s-s Sir, B-h" Ih"o'h(',, THEN we'll just MAKt; SOIIlI', B-h-h-h-Bh'ss (;od!" 1

Which they proceeded to do for the next 8 weekssuch a thing was unheard of-a "Protracted meeting" that protracted THAT long-two full months, right in the Spring of the year, the busy farming season with the farmers! Started in April and ran over the month of May-and the crowds came=-each night at little earlier, and if possible, a little closer to the front to see the terrible carryings on. My Dad finally went down to see the SHOW and was horrified to behold his wife one of the "standing" actors--shouting her hair down, and otherwise disgracing the family. Then, he, too, fell in and was soundly converted and lined up with the despised HOLINESS people. Immediately following the two months revival, his local church held a called business session to take care of the heresy. Turned out ten that day-eight others and my parents. The secretary inked his quill and wrote down in the record: "We turned out of the church today 10 people -ei~ht for being too mean and two for being too good!" Such is my religious heritage. Father immediately dropped the OOAT riding and began to follow the LAMB of God, laid aside his pipe and cigars, and Mother found a different sort of "Pacifying powders" and began to love and serve the Lord with all her heart and soul. Then I came along-the 10th child of the family. A child of PROMISE, for mother told dad before I was ever born that I would be a man-child and become a preacher. I was and am the only boy in our family! Then, when I was 28 days old, God saw fit to take my precious Mother Home. She was rational and fully conscious to the very end. Father told her she was dying, true to a promise they BOTH had made each other years previously. Did she get excited, call for the Doctor who lived just across the street? No! She began to sing and to shout and to praise God and it never let up or abated for five long hours-until she was getting cold up to her knees and elbows, that precious little mother of mine praised and worshipped her Lord. She had shouted ever since the Lord had saved her back under that old gospel tent years before - she 2

shouted every time she got down to pray or got up to testify-small wonder that she shouted NOW? She told them all goodbye just like she was going on a week-end journey and asked them to meet her in Heaven. Then she told her husband, my father, goodbye, then the oldest daughter and on down the line to the youngest, pledging ALL to serve the Lord and meet her in the skies. Finally, she asked someone to bring her BABY, and some kind lady went and brought in the little stranger, lying on a pillow, and placed him by his mother's side. She prayed a prayer, the like of which they said they never heard before or since, it went something like this: "Lord Jesus, here is My baby boy that Thou hast given me. and for which I so earnestly prayed, that You would give me a Man-Child. And now dear Lord, he is here, and I must die and leave him in a cold unfriendly world without a mother-Oh Jesus, if you can use my baby boy to SINn the !;ospel. or to nreach the gospel, or to be a missionarv, or ANYTHING for Thee -let him live, if not, let him die with me!" (And I lived.) Then she began to sing: "Oh, to lean on Jesus' breast, while the tempests come and go, Here is blessed peace and rest, where THE HEALING WATERS FLOW!" She sang all the verses in a loud and clear voice, and so, fell asleep in Jesus, and went home to be with the Lord that she had loved and served so well. Fifteen years went by and I was soundly conv:rted at HOME. lying flat of my back in an old-fashioned feather-bed! I had been praying fervently and earn~stly, with the hot, scalding, blistering, tears running down my cheeks and burning my neck as they wet the pillow. Suddenly, I heard a VOICE ... so still, so small, so tender, and yet so penetrating, that I held my breath for fear that I would lose it! It spoke these words to me ... and if I should live to be a hundred, I can NEVER forget them. AND there are not enough men on earth or devils in hell to make me doubt for one second but what I did hear them-

"Son, be of good cheer, thy sins be forgiven thee!" BROTHER, I needed nothing else-that was sufficient, enough, plenty, and abundant. I sprang from that bed, taking the covers, sheets, pillows, and the FEATHER BED with me out in the middle' of the floor, shouting at the top of my voice, and rushing back into the kitchen where the rest of the family were, like a boy from another world, with my hands high in the air, I shouted the praises of God! Truly, converted, regenerated, saved, born again, by the grace of God! I relate ALL this for a REASON-I want it distinctly understood, that I had a good religious experience, BEFORE the Lord filled me with the Holy Ghost 33 years later! I immediately began to attend a little Pentecostal church seven miles from our home. Then I began to seek the Baptism! My father soon learned where I was going, and what I was doing, and wrote off to our FAVORITE preacher (who conducted the tent revival years before) and told him that "Herschel is attending a Holy Roller church near here. He has just been converted, and I am afraid that he'll get tangled up with all this Pentecostal heresy arid fanaticism, what shall I do about it?" The good brother soon replied that whatever my father did, NOT to let me get tangled up with the "Tongues" people. That it was AWFUL, and all a delusion and a snare of the DEVIL! So, being of tender years, and having the utmost confidence in the said brother, I obeyed my father's command, and forthwith forsook the Pentecostals. NOW, after nearly 35 years have gone by-I sometimes shudder to think what God COULD, and probably WOULD have done with me, if I had been permitted and allowed to go on THEN and received my Baptism-instead of 21 months ago! God was moving in a mighty way THEN-and I was only a 15 and 16 year old boy. Folk would come and get me out of the bed to go and pray for the sick, and God would heal them! But, do you know what happened? Folk told me that I had better "Leave that off, that it looked too much like the ''HoIY-lODers'' so 4

I eventually quit praying for the sick! Another brother whom I knew personally, had a similar experiencehe was healed of arthritis that had cemented his spine, and knotted his fingers. The Government was paying him TOTAL Disability for his service in the Marine Corps. Well, God instantly healed him ... and he went out in a blaze of power and glory to preach DIVINE HEALING in his revivals and devoted one night to telling his experience, and praying for the sick! The "Powers that be" finally "Lowered the boom" on him and suggested that he leave all that out of his campaigns . . . as it looked too much like the PENTE'COSTALS! I told him if he left it off that he'd be sick again . . . and he did leave it all off, and he is STILL sick-and reminded him of what I had warned him about. He replied: "Yf'S. Herschel. but what can a fellow do, when the AUmORITIES put the pressure on you? Now I'm sick a~ain, and if I ever get well- I guess I'll have to go somewhere and let the PENTECOSTAL people pray for me!" (Isn't THAT a shame?) The poor fellow is STILL sick and not only so, but has had domestic trouble and is now separated and divorced from his companion! Oh neople, it is better to "Obev God rather than man!" When we lay aside the COMM!\.NDMENTS of God. that we may preach the TRADITIONS of men-watch out! Many folk. as Jesus said, stand in the doorway of salvation but won't enter in, but try to prevent those who want to p,o in. from doinz so! God have mercy on these blind leaders of the blind. It was here in this little Pentecostal church some 35 years azo now that I first met Albert Bates and Guy Shields! I would walk seven miles in to church almost every night, tarry until after midnight and walk the seven miles back home; many times arriving there just at day-break. One time, as I recall, I was walking home from a great service tired and worn and weary. I could barely drag one foot after the other when I decided that it was time to ask the Lord for a RIDE on home! This was how it worked out: "Lord, I am so tired and worn, weary, and exhausted. I worked all day yesterday, and will have to go to 5

work when I get home. Please, Lord, have mercy on me, and send me a ride on home. (Thirty-five years ago cars were NOT quite as thick as they are now.) Lord, do You see that big telephone pole about 100 yards down the road? Well, I'm going to pray until I get there--and not look back-then, Lord; by the time I get to the telephone pole, will You please have a ride here for me?" Suffice to say, BEFORE I got to the designated spot I could HEAR that old Model "T" Ford chugging along! It was about 2 o'clock in the morning, and the Good Samaritan put me out at my front gate! By this time I was about to burn up to preach-so one day I went in to the nearest town-Burkburnett, Texas-and got out on the street corner and preached! (I had seen the Salvation Army do this, and I thought if they could, I could.) Right in the middle of my discourse (?) the city marshall tapped me on the shoulder and said that I couldn't preach there-it was against the law! Frightened half out of my wits, that I had broken the "Law"-I could see visions of myself in stripes and behind prison bars--I could just imagine the anguish of my poor old father as he came to visit his CONVICT son-I quickly closed the service without formal benediction, and scooted down the street in defeat and diszrace. Finding a convenient alley and some old oil field equipment to hide behind I fell on my knees and begin to pray and ask God WHY if He had called me to preach should my very FIRST public attempt end so ouickly and in such utter humiliation? About then a half a dozen men came up the alley looking for me-(This is it, I thought) but they were not the LAW, but oil well drillers, proverbial "Mule Skinners" oil field "Rough Necks" and such like-they had hunted me UP to get me to come back and F1NISH MY SERMON! Would wonders never cease? I was willing, but still a little "Juberious" of that big clty marshall with the big star and the gun on his hip--and told the men so. But they assured me that T.III!.:Ywould stand between me and all danger, and would "Take care" of the Law, if he came back and interfered. So.

I went back, this time with the conquering tread of a Victor, with my retinue of "Body Guards" all about me. The long arm of the Law reached for me again, but, true to their promise, those big-hearted, rough, tough, old oil field workers "Stood between me and all danger" - offering to pay any fine that was assessed against me. When the service was over it began to RAIN MONEY-for the first and last time in my life! Money came sailing down from people in the upper stories of the buildings that I didn't realize were listening. Bills floated down through the air and fell at my feet. Coins of all sizes bounced off the sidewalk and rolled into the gutter and street-but I steadfastly REFUSED to pick ANY of it up! "I wasn't preaching for MONEY, I said, and I wasn't going to accept any of it -that I could get along without ANY of their old money." (But I long since got over THAT!) But they would have none of it, THEY picked it all up and stuffed it in my pockets as I put back on my overcoat, top-coat, and vest-when I left there I HAD MONEY IN EVERY POCKET! It was about this time that we had an unusual experience=-it was SO amazing that forsome 20 years I never told it publicly. We were at that time living at Butterfield, Arkansas, about 60 miles west of Little Rock, between Malvern and Hot Springs. I was about 16 years old. A STRANGER came to our humble dwelling a mile and a half up in the hills-just WHY that he should have chosen our poor log cabin, I do not know, but suffice to say, he did. For three days and nights we reveled in his presence and blessing. A most peculiar person, he was. About six feet tall and weighing around 175 pounds. Dark chestnut hair and beard made him a striking figure. His VOICE was the softest, most gentle and kind that I ever heard--and his eyes--how can I describe them? They were the most soft and tender that I had looked into, yet the most piercing and penetrating that I had ever beheld. His handclasp was FIRM as those eyes searched the depths of your very

soul. His question was always the same: uDo you love the Lord?" It was amazing at the strange answers this simple question brought forth! He said that his name was LOVE! He never made it quite clear WHERE he came from or where he was going-c-or WHO he was! He and 1 were walking home from the little village of Butterfield one day when we met my INFIDEL brother-in-law-s-that is, we were going t-o meet him, when he suddenly stopped in his tracks, looked long and earnestly at us, then wheeled and RAN out through the woods jumping over fallen logs and stumbling over the rocks and underbrush like a wild man! He came back into the road about a block behind us and kept trotting down the road, looking back over his shoulder at this Brother LOVE and I! Not a word was said and I later asked my infidel brother-in-law why he ran out through the woods like that, and he replied: "I didn't like the looks of that man with you!" Well, everyone else did! 1 noticed that all Christians fell in love with him, and all sinners or backsliders were embarrassed and seemed afraid in -his presence. It was a most unusual three days and nights while Brother LOVE was with us. All but the most necessary work was suspended and we just TALKED almost day and night. We never tired of his teaching. Fields lay neglected, and just the chores around the barnlot were taken care of, everything else was forgotten. I even "Laid off" my job at a saw mill for the full three days while Brother LOVE was at our house! Brother LOVE told my father that the Lord had a great work for his son to do. That God had His hand on him for some special purpose. (How 1 wish NOW that I could remember all that he said.) Finally, the glorious three days were over and our visitor said that he must NOW be going (he never did make it clear WHERE) so we had prayers in the house, bid each other "Goodbye" then moved out into the hallway and stopped for another 10 minutes of farewell handshakes and talk. Then managed to get out 8

on the front porch, and bogged down again. Then we all walked out into the front yard and stopped for another 10 or 15 minutes of "Goodbyes" and "God bless yous" and so on to the front gate and outside the yard, and at last some 50 yards down the side of the hillholding on to him all the way! My father and I begging him to stay longer-but he gently, but firmly insisted, that he must be on his way-and I can still see his tall majestic figure as he walked slowly down that hill as though loath to go, finally at the bend in the trail, he stopped, turned and raised a hand in. blessing-and walked out of our sight FOREVER! No one ever saw him again. No neighbor saw him take a bus or train out of the little village of Butterfield. No neighbor saw him pass. (In Arkansas the hill people SEE you pass their dwelling-you may not see them, but they will see you.) He just vanished from the earth-disappeared-and no one in Butterfield one and one-half miles away ever saw him, nor in Malvern, seve", miles, did anyone report they ever saw him again. We, like the two on the road to Emmaus, inquired, our hearts did do "Burn within us." After his departure we began to "Put two and two together" and all agreed that we had been highly and signally honored with a visit from some Heavenly being-e-t'Be careful to entertain STRANGERS, for some have entertained ANGELS unawares." We have often thought and talked about "BROTHER LOVE." Thirty-three years passed and I had long since affiliated myself with a nominal "Second Blessing" Holiness Church-Church of the Nazarene. It had been called the PENTECOSTAL Church of the Nazarene, but away back in 1916 the church met in one of it's quadreniel General Assemblies and voted to drop the word "PENTECOSTAL" so as NOT to be confused with the despised "Tongues" people. (I heard Uncle Charlie Robinson say how that he attended that conference and VOTED with the rest in favor of dropping the awful word: "Pentecostal.") I believe that I enjoyed above the average ministry.

God blessed me especially in the evangelistic field where I labored most of my ministerial career. I did, however, pastor several churches, viz: Borger, Texas, Jonesboro, Louisiana, Twin Falls, Idaho, and Grace Church, San Antonio, Texas. Was elected for two terms to serve as District Young Peoples President over some 75 churches, and believe the record will still show the progress made during my tenure of office as District President of the Abilene (Texas) District N.Y.P.S.-finance quadrupled the first year, and the number of "Standard Societies" increased from four to 18! I am still proud of that record. The only complaint that I ever heard of against me was that I was a wee bit too "Radical" in my preaching. I was never accused of being a compromiser or a soft-peddler of God's truth, on the other hand I have been brought on the proverbial Green Carpet at least once by the District Superintendent concerning my RADICAL preaching against sin and worldliness, hypocrisy and politics in church affairs. I was admonished to "Feed the sheep" and not to "Stone them!" (The facts are-I was stoning the GOATS that had somehow gotten into the fold.) Suffice to say, I was never fully accepted as one of the "Inner Circle" of the "Elect." I was never quite able to gain entrance into the "Inner Sanctum Sanctorium!" It was, and still is, my proud boast that I had "Never compromised 1/16 of a chigger's track for any MAN or his money, influence, or favor, or blessing!" I had seen others come out of the brush and in five years time get to the top of the heap, but I couldn't stomach their methods of raising themselves by their own bootstraps! The oiling of the palm of the right people with the greatest of all lubricants-the cold cash. The buying of suits of clothes, overcoats, shoes, steak and chicken dinners for the right people to "Feather their 10

own nest" nauseated me. My very soul rebelled against such a carnal display. The place and position etc. seemed to affect most preachers--everyone scratching! Most of the "Boys" had an awful urge to be a "Big shot." They always managed to secure the services of the presiding General Superintendent over Sunday at their local churches-thereby putting a feather in their ecclesiastical cap. The good Bishop was not expected to forget the liberal "Love offering" given him for his two or three sermons! At the proper time he would "Remember" (how could he be ALLOWED to forget?) this "Up and coming" young pastor! Oh, Brother, the sickening displays, the foot-races that I have witnessed the past 35 years! People selling their best friend "Down the river" for BREAD AND BUTTER-(He told me so!) The ever-increasing DICTATORAL powers of the "Powers that be" became more and more obvious. The man who wouldn't bow, soon would find himself slowly but surely being crowded to the wall-literally FORCED out of the ministry. Strangely, there were no "Openings" for him, but the very next day an "Opening" could be found for one of the favorite sons who knew how to use the old banana oil, the applesauce, and taffy candy. My very soul cried out against such injustice--a man's PERSONAL likes and dislikes could make or break the ministry of one serving under him! A man's income could be amputated-he could be piaced on the "Shelf" against his win, retired prematurely-and there was DO appeal or repeal of the verdict handed down-for was not he the Bishop's rivht hand man? What ever this man did the good Bishop would sanction. More-over, a man so "Blackballed" would find himself RUINF..D all over the nation-without an opportunity to defend himself! In March, 1951, I went to hear a Dr. T. M. Anderson one of the leading evangelists in our denomination. Fifteen months BEFORE he had a most unusual experience with the Lord. Being professor in Asbury College in Wilmore, Ky., he discovered that he was giving God only 15 minutes a day in devotion and

prayer and the other 23 hours and 45 minutes were for himself. Well, he made a vow to get up at 4 a.m. each morning and pray and seek the face of the Lord -which he did. Well, after several weeks or months of this-Jesus Christ appeared in his room one morning and from that hour his whole ministry was changed and revolutionized. From that hour he became a power for God! In one year's time he saw 16,000 people bow at his altars, and between 25,000 and 30,000 others were influenced by his ministry and found the Lord in other revival meetings! He became a "Seer!" He could and DID SEE things in folk spiritual lives and could tell them why they had no victory; things as far back in the past as 63 yearsand never missed! Well, the old boy was at First Church in Lubbock, Texas, on the corner of 14th and Avenue Q, for just three nights-but I saw more people "Hit the altar" in those three nights than I'd seen in a three weeks revival! He had a marvelous ministry-God really spoke through him. This preacher went home under mighty CONVICTION. (It's AWFUL for a preacher to get under conviction.) Didn't sleep any that night, but roamed the highways in my car, parking by the roadside, and crying out to God: "Oh Lord, reveal yourself to me like you did that old man-Dr. T. M. Anderson. What you did for him-do a little bit for me, Lord!" Wen, from that day I sought the Lord earnestly for nine straight months-I never stopped-I }'ASTED and prayed and cried and begged God to do something for ME! And He led me straight in to PENTECOST! In a covenant with the Lord I had VOWED to get up and pray every night if He would awaken me-well, he waked me every night after that-but it was ALWAY3 on the hour or the half hour by my Bulova wrist watch-never a second early or late-but right on the hour 01' the half hour-from 12:30 to as late as 5:00 a.m.! At last, in the good providence and mercy of God. 12


we began to "HEAR" things. (How shall they HEAR without a preacher, and how shall they I preach, except they be sent?) We began to hear about a man "Sent from God" a man by the name of WILLIAM BRANHAM! Wife and I began to hear about great SALVATION-HEALING-DELIVERANCE revival campaigns being held all over the country-of totally blind people being made to SEE, totally deaf people being made to HEAR, totally crippled folk being made to WALK! Of cancers and tumors being healed instantly. Heart trouble, high blood pressure, T.B., arthritis and polio, gall stones and sugar diabetes, etc., etc., and ETC! All these and MORE were being healed in answer to the prayer of faith-or the GIFTS of the Spirit in operation. I was very forcibly reminded of my own healings in my earry ministry 33 years ago! At first, however, I chucked the whole thing aside as another of the wild publicity scnemes of the Pentecostals-("They'd do anything to draw a crowd!") They were ALWAYS going in tor the SENSATiONAL -trying to fool someone-so I didn't bother to attend for a while. Then, a Brother Wm. A. Ward came to town and preached for several weeks in the First Assembly' at God church in my home town at Lunoock. 1 was attracted to his services by an announcement ill the newspaper of his "VIsIOn of hell" that lie was going to relate one SATURDAY night. So, wu e and 1 suppeu in the first Pentecostal churcn we'd attended in years, and took the SECO:Nl) seat from tue back. l'J.'he oruy reason we didn't take the first seat rrom the back -it was already FULL.) We sat tuere more or less uncomfortable but nnauy settled Gown as we OlScovered there were none or our churcn toik tnere-sand none of the Pentecostals knew us trom Adam, I said. Well, this Brother Ward came in the pulpit and 13

right out of a blue sky he said: "Well, I see that we have a preacher with us tonight, for the Lord told me back in the prayer room that we had a preacher out here tonight" and looked right at ME! If I could have sunk through the floor into the basement, or at least crawled under the pew, I would have been happy. I tried to ignore the good Brother by looking at a song book. (Strange how interesting a song book can become in church-especially when the Spirit is moving) but he was not one to be denied. Finally, he POINTED IDS FINGER right at me and said: "Say, you back there, Brother, yes YOU there on the second seat from the back, there--aren't you a preacher?" I gulped, and mumbled that I was-then, horror of horrors-he demanded that I stand up and give my name and the CHURCH I was from-which I didmy face crimson and my heart about to pound out of me. Then, a Brother whom I knew spoke up and asked that I sing a solo! Then the whole congregation began to insist that I sing, forthwith. Seeing that I couldn't get out of it, wife went to the piano and I staggered up to the front and sang. Before the night was over I'd sung four songs! THAT was the beginning of the end! I found Brother Ward a highly intelligent man. Had spent 13 years in schools, colleges, and universities. Had even taught in our own University of Texas, had several degrees-(Not at all the ignorant and uncouth type which I associated ALL "Tongues" people.) He was a polished, poised, Christian Gentleman. He had the year before traveled in 35 countries of the world! His knowledge captivated me and his flood of silver-tongue oratory in the pulpit-together With the power of the Holy Ghost caused me to realize that HERE was no cheap, shoddy, unkempt, dirty, filthy. illiterate, scatter-br-ained PENTECOSTAL preacher! I realized that he had knowledge AND the Spirit to go with it. Here, certainly, was no "Zeal without KNOWLEDGE"-for this man had the knowledge. He was my first Pentecostal that I had to sort of "Take my hat off to"-for he just lacked his these having his Ph.D. degree! Despite all this, he was most human, kind, understanding, and approachable.


I found my theory of Pentecostal being CHEAP and IGNORANT slipping away, as I listened to Evangelist Ward preach with power. We became fast friendsand still are-and he was one of the first to open my eyes to the reality of Pentecost. Several months later Brother Ward came back to Plainview, Texas, for a revival under his big tent, and we drove the 46 miles up to attend his campaign for three weeks. In fact, I got "fired" of my job selling insurance for attending this revival! The District Manager, my good friend of some 20 years--said he had to "let me go" as I was neglecting my job in attending the "Holy-Roller" revival. (The true facts are, I believe that he was a little "Peeved" that wife and I were attending Pentecostal meetings.) It was in this campaign that I got my first real close-up view of the Salvation-Healing-Deliverance gospel IN ACTION. I saw blind and deaf and crippled folk healed right before My eyes--thongh I admit I really "Felt sorry" for poor Brother Ward the first cripple that two men t;AR~IED up to him in the prayer line. Most of the others had been headache and toothache cases. or heart trouble, or high blood pressure, or somethinrt you couldn't SEE or really know if they were healed. or nnt-and I admit that I was the "Doubting Thomas." When they carried the man up I said: "Well, the picnic is now over. AU the fun has stopped. This time there is no foolishness. The old boy has certainly "Bit off more than he can chew." This crippled man is in for a bi= disappointme-vt." But if the evangelist was worried about his HARD case, he didn't show it-and the man got up and walked off! You could have roped my eves with a p-Tape-vine as they "Buzzed out" at this miracle of God. Then a woman crippled with POJ~IO, who hadn't walked in years--got up and walked all over the tent! Well, it was wonderful, but a bit too much for me and my weak faith. Such was the beginning and the straws kept piling up until they literally "Broke the back" of prejudice, unbelief, doubt and fear-and how I do praise and thank God for it.


Praising the Lord with UP-L1Fl'ED hands was a source of great annoyance to me. Frankly, I thought they were over-doing it! Praising the Lord a half dozen times in one service before the sermon was a waste of good and valuable time, I thought. Raising one's hands, too, was downright silly, and I always gave a sigh of relief when the over-exuburant subsided from one of those "Spells" of praising the Lord. I wanted them to "Go ahead with the worship" I didn't know then that it WAS the worship! Poor, weak-minded and scatter-brained people, I thought. No one but morons would let themselves get so "Worked up." They surely didn't know any better. Gone completely daffy-gone over-board completely. Gone off the deep end, surely, and into fanaticism, beyond all doubt. It was too bad, too, for they DID seem to have some marvelous healings! WHY, oh WHY, couldn't they be NICE about it all? Why did they have to RUIN it all with such a childish display of emotionalism and silly sentimentality? My proud spirit rebelled at all the reckless abandonment in seeking the Baptism-and all that "Glory, Glory" and "Glub, glub" and other senseless jargon-all that silly gibberish and "Goose-jabber" as I joking called it. My soul recoiled in horror from it all. Slowly but surely the blessed Spirit of God worked me into a corner. Slowly but surely I found my inborn prejudice and HATRED just melting away like the icicles melting off the eaves of a house under the warming rays of the rising sun. Slowly but surely I felt all of my mEOLOGY falling down around my ears. And all that I thought I KNEW turned out to be but HUSKS-and all the "Traditions of the Elders" and a'l the "Customs" of the people began to assume their real identity-and at last I saw myseH for what I really was--a PROUD, HAUGHTY, ECCLESIASTICAL FOOL! It was a bitter pill to have to swallow -but the Spirit held my nose and poured it down me! Steeped in the doctrines dar to my heart, disregard16


ing the plain Word of God-skipping hurriedly over Acts 2-4! How I hated Acts 2-4! I had seen it on bridges, telephone poles, bill-boards, on cars, and on rocks by the roadside. How. I gritted my teeth and muttered in righteous wrath at the "Zeal without knowledge" of the poor, deluded people who had plastered up the whole country-side with Acts 2-4. fI used to put a PERIOD where the Bible only puts a COMMA in reading Acts 2-4.) I resented and almost hated that verse in the Bible. I used to stop where it said: "And they were all filled with the Holy Ghost." If .I read the balance of the verse I'd read it so FAST that few could understand me: "Andbegantospeakwith othertonguesastheSpiritga vethemutterance !"

shots, and watching her diet, and was under the care of a physician to keep the blood sugar content in her blood as low as possible. It had been up to about 250. We heard through a friend that this "Man sent from God" William Branham, was to be three days in Shreveport, Louisiana. Wife wanted to drive the mere 1.200 miles (Roundtrip) and have him pray for her. We had heard via long distance telephone of the wonderful things that had been taking place in his services. ~eing in a revival myself at the time, it was imposSIble for me to make the trip, so our son and a couple of friends drove her down to Shreveport. The very last night of the special services the wife managed to get a "Prayer card" and it just' "So happened" that Branham called out the 25 or 30 prayer card numbers that he would "Take" that night-and her number just "Happened" to be the fourth in line! She has said many times since that if she had NEVER got a card, or even missed being prayed for, it would have been well worth the trip to see others that were healed and delivered in a most wonderful way. The "Discernment" of the man was marvelous, astounding, unbelieveable--the things that he told people in their private lives was impossible--but for the mighty operation of the nine gifts of the Spirit. When the wife came up to him in the line-he just looked at her and "Diagnosed" her case-s-correctly, of course,-and she was instantly delivered, along with two or three others--one, a man, away up in the balcony! They all had sugar-diabetes! When the good wife came home healed-it just about finished me. Her own doctor's laboratory tests confirmed that she WAS healed-s-our own daughter was a nurse in that same clinic! About that time there came forth three messages in tongues with interpretations. They came at three diffrent times, given by six diffrent people. and hundreds of miles apart-yet if they had been taken down in shorthand, you couldn't have told but what they were

It didn't fit my THEOLOGY-it didn't coincide with my preaching, and it didn't fit my experience-it made me uncomfortable--and it embarrassed me. It put a question mark ('!) on my experience--I could not explain it away-so I just ignored it!
Always in the back of my mind there lingered an awful suspicion that the Pentecostal folk MIGHT be right-and if they were--where would I be? About the time that I'd be convinced in my MIND about the blessing, then the devil would trot out a few PENTECOSTAL SCARE CROWS to keep me out of the clover field. I'd see some inconsistent individual, or some half or quarter-wit would get up and "Testify" to having the Baptism of the Holy Ghost and talking in tongues--forthwith I'd slide back into the abyss of fear, and doubt, and unbelief. Oh, the marvelous SCARE CROWS that the enemy has all around PENTECOST to scare a great many sincere and hungry people away from the honey-jar! It took me a long while to finally realize that the Pentecostal folk do not have a monopoly on these scare crows--other churches have their full share--but somehow they don't shine so potently! The final straw that broke the camel's back, was the miraculous healing of my good wife. She had been suffering from SUGAR-DIABETES, taking insulin



the same message! The first time it came, wife nudged me in the ribs and asked what I thought about it. I mumbled something and she replied that she thought the message was for ME. I said: "Uh Huh!" and let it go at that. A few weeks later in another city. the same messaxe came forth aaain! Wife said: "There it is again, Honey!" I said: "Yeah!" Then, a few weeks later and hundreds of miles away, it came the third time, and wife nudzed me in the ribs and said: "There's your message axain. dear!" By now I was convinced of it myself and had taken particular attention to the words: "If you will humble yourself and get rid of the spirit that you have, and seek My face, and be filled with My Spirit-then, I will bless you indeed, and make you a blessing. r will open doors that you never dreamed possible, I will send vou places that you never thought you would rro. I will hless you as no other man has been blessed and I will send you around the world with this glorious message of Deliverance."

Well, it was too rrood to be true-1 iust couldn't believe it was for ME--the most unworthy of all. The fellow who had fought the Po-itecostal wav. fY'an.eInn of the manifestation of the Holy Ghost, preached sermons against the speaking in tongues--explained it all way. (?) Then, in Kansas City during one of William Branham's campaigns the power' of God hit me for the FIRST time in my life-1 shook and trembled for an hour. My knees were like water and shook like Belshazzar's! Even my hands shook. I was so weak that I could hardlv stand. If I had known mEN what I know NOW I could have received my Bantisr several months before I did. I didn't realize what was the matter with me. It was a real visitation from the Lord. From then on I was "Sold" on Pentecost and bezan to seek the Lord in real earnestness and all sincerity. I was determined to have a little of what these people apparently had a great deal of! Wife and I drove 200 miles to Breckenridge, Texas,

to hear a little man by the name of W. V. Grant. A revival was being conducted in the city auditorium. Well, one night he walked over to where we were standing on the front seats, and without a word slapped his hands on my wife's head-and that was ALL, Brother! She took off like a F -86 Sabre jet, began to shout and scream at the top of her lungs with both hands high in the air! She staggered 10 or 15 feet across the front of the auditorium and then FELL flat of her back on the floor-something that I knew she would not have done for a MILLION dollars! Then, she began speaking in another language, and I stood there almost jumping up and down saying in my heart: "Hit me too, Lord! Smack me down good! Stretch me out! Let the power come on me too!" But I was a dead stump-v-I never felt a thing. Going back home that night in the car she took another spell speaking in tongues. I looked over and saw her with both hands trying to hold her CHIN as the Spirit was moving her JAWS! So I reached over and jerked her hands down saying: "Let it go! What do you want to hold it for any-way?" (I didn't yet have MY baptism, but I knew how that it should be done!)
I became quite confused at the altar with people on every side, screaming instructions-"Hold on, Brother!" and "Turn loose, Brother!" Then someone else would yen in my ear: "Empty him, Lord!" and another would say: "Fill him, Lord!" Someone would advise me: "Let yourself go, Brother!" and then another would yell in my ear: "Pull yourself together, Mister!"-until I got so confused I didn't know what was expected of me. Really, I RESENTED a lot of their well-meant advice and instructions-but I finally got to the place where I didn't CARE what they said or did!

I prayed to see a "Ball of fire" when someone testified to having seen one when THEY received THEIR Baptism. Then I'd pray to go off in a "TRANCE" because I had heard someone tell about THAT. After that I'd pray that I might see a "Vision" as I had heard somebody tell. Then I'd pray and beg 20


God to knock me down under the power like He did

Paul-but No! Finally, I got so HUNGRY and became so DESPERATE that I became willing to receive my Baptism just anyway that the dear Lord saw fit to give it to me--and I was gloriously FILLED! I had resolved to fast and pray for 10 days just like the Disciples and surely in that time, I'd receive the Holy Ghost. I determined to get a hotel room and lock myself in-and never come out until I had received my Baptism. (The only thing was, I didn't have the MONEY necessary for the 10 days in the hotel!) I had called and they quoted me the prices from three different hotels and I didn't have the money for the CHEAPEST one! You know WHY? Well, since I had begun to attend the Pentecostal revivals and to seek the Holy Ghost, my former church dropped me like a hot potato-then, the Pentecostal folk wouldn't let me hold revivals for TIlEM until I had received my Baptism-so truly. r was between a ROCK and a HARD place. I just H..4D to get the Baptism! I was like an elevator-stuck between two floors--not down where I used to he, and not UP yet in PentecostI was in an awful fix! Well, I compromised bv going into my back bed room and seeking God determined to fast and pray the full 10 days. or until the Holy Ghost came, and I was filled. I lasted three days! On December 18, 1951, at about 3:30 in the afternoon, lying flat of my back in bed (Again) it all opened up to me as clear as the noon-day sun-and I iust put up my hands and "Took off!" It was so EASY that I was surprised. I asked: "Why didn't you folk tell me that it was so EASY to receive the Baptism?" For days I would speak in tongues while in my car. I'd lean my head on the steering wheel and begin to speak in a fluent and clear language that I had never learned. I'd be shaving and raise my hand, razor and all, above my head, and begin to praise God in a heavenly language! Well, 21 months have now gone by-s-and it has been 21

WONDERFUL what the dear Lord has done for me and for my family. Have just closed my thirtieth campaign since the Lord filled me with the precious Holy Ghost-and they have been scattered from Seattle to New Yor~ City, and to Canada. God is making good the pronuse that He made me in those three messages -doors are opening that I never had anything to do with-or thought possible. I no longer have a "Slate" worked out for months ahead-I just hold one revival at a time NOW, and leave the future entirely in His hands! People have been healed of most everything I can think of-as I have begun to take up again the Healing Ministry that I discarded 33 years before for fear it looked to much like the Holy Rollers! ~d is confirming His precious word with signs followingand the end is not yet! People have been healed of paralyzed speech organs, due to stroke, sugar diabetes, heart trouble, deafness, dislocated vertebra since birth sinus, bleeding and protruding piles, rupture, lame leg, stiff neck and arm, arthritis, nervousness, gall bladder and gallstones, T.B.-etc. To God be ALL the glory! It has been wonderful, marvelous beyond all words of description. Truly, God is GOOD, great, wonderful, and MIGHTY. To me-who am less than the least-a poor stick upon which to lean, a "Nobody" from "Nowhere"-I, who fought this way-has God delivered a part of this latter day ministry! I am thrilled! I am happy! I am on my PENTECOSTAL honeymoon-just let me alone-I'm all right.



"And the SMOKE OF THEIR TORMENT ascendeth up forever and ever and they have no rest day nor night." Revelation 14-11. About the first that I ever heard dogerel verse. Something about: of tobacco was a bit of

"Tobacco is a filthy weed, the devil sowed the seed; It adds to woes, and soils your clothesAnd makes a smokestack of your nose!" Quite an illuminating bit of verse, I must say, and I DO say. Then later I read in my history book about that epochmaking exchange between the early settlers and the Indians. I mean that notable barter of firewater and tobacco. No one is really sure even today, as to just which of the two got the best - rath~r the WORST - of that earth-shaking trade. Though the Iridian may have been swindled in that familiar swap of $24 worth of beads and calico for Manhattan Island, he certainly didn't fare so badly this time. So much for the family and early American history. Since that queer exchange of the bad habits of the Old and the New World, the tobacco habit has grown to astounding proportions. It has exceeded all limits of e:"pecta~ion. It has far outstripped all confines of reason. One IS continually amazed at the ever-increasing cloud-and the word is used in the literal sense-of cigarette smoke that befog and befoul the horizon. Surely one would not be considered an old "Fuddy" if the brutal evidence were pointed out? The veritable cloud of incense that ascends 24 hours a day from the altar of the Little Brown god of Nicotine? The multiplied millions that worship without shame at the shrine of the tobacco habit? The many millions of dollars that annually go "Up in smoke?" The all too obvious complete disregard for the rights of OTHERS? A sure fire wager could be arranged that the acceptance of this article by a secular periodical for publication, would be passed upon by a harried individual with one. of .the proverbial "Coffin Nails" clutched tightly between his little pinkies. Peradventure also, the linotype operator would tap out these fateful words of wisdom with the ever-present FAG hanging with supreme nonchalance at half mast between his flabby lips. Me thinks, that the proof reader, too, would scan these lines with an "Unlucky Ball" srnouldering on the ash tray before him. Ever the urchin screaming his wares out on the streets would take a puff ever and anon from a SNIPE filched from the gutter. And so on down the assembly line to YOU-dear hearts and gentle people-the unsuspecting reader. You will join the procession, doubtless, as you lazily pursue these words, with

a cigarette, cigar, or worse yet, a PIPE, clutched desperately between yellowing teeth, muttering profanely under your aromatic breath: "What rot is this?" I am further "Requested"-with appropriate apologies to Amos and Andy, with all this unmitigated tripe on the radio about the respective merit (?) of this, that, and the other brand of poison. It is exactly like saying that one pile of manure smells "Less" than another pile of manure! It is just as useless to chant about those deadly little white cylinders being: "So square, so loose, so sparingly packed, so slow and hard on the draw." The fact remain, they are NOT sugar candy. Still, you see them stuck at various angles under most everybody's nose. All this clap-trap about the addict being willing, yea, eager to: "Walk a mile for a Dromedary" is one of the most fiagrant understatements. The poor dupe would gladly walk, even CRAWL many miles for one! This is the ONE thing they MUST have. Food, water, shelter, all can wait, this must be obtained by fair means or foul--and I do mean FOUL. They must have their sedative, their pacifying powders, their shots, their hypo, THEIR SMOKE--come from what may. The writer has seen a jillion or so down-andouters, but never yet has he observed one who COUldn't promote a smoke! They can arrange for a smoke whether they EAT or not. Isn't it the height of slavery, of .being down right SILLY? This is about the kindest thing to be said. I remember a certain woman because of her tobacco-inspired tantrums. Otherwise, she was a normal, smiling, and beautiful woman. BUT when the supply of NICOTINE was low or exhausted, no one had to remind the family. They could always tell. For all Hades would immediately break out and never abate until some one would gird up their loins and hie them a way to the village to replenish the stock. Then, like a dopehead, which after a fashion, she was, she would begin to simmer down, become human, almost angelic, once the little Brown god took over! Again, to loudly proclaim to the world and all smokers in particular, that there Is "Not a sneeze in a train load" doesn't mean a thing. Too, the so-called testimony (?) of 24,481,659 nicotine-soaked physicians is 'not, within itself, an infallible indication that such proof is PROOF. To announce brazenly that a certain brand of nicotine is good lor one's "E-Zone" doesn't make it so, by any manner of means. For some dwarf to "Call for Percival Horace" doesn't mean that Percival will answer. The few youthful aspirants who are given opportunity to exhibit their musical talent and make good in the entertainment world, are far outweighed by the damage done to countless others so infiuenced to take up an expensive and dirty habit. To declare that numerous athletes won their competition through the smoking of a certain brand of poison is the rankest of insults to one's native intelligence. No coach in his right mind would permit it! .Just how dumb do the- big Tobacco interests take us to be? Then, another brand BOO.thingly remarks: "TIlEY PACIFY!" Yea, but for how lQng? Flfteen minutes? Halt an hour? How long before one has to be "PACD'IED'" &1:IWl! How many



utes of dubious PEACE are you allowed trom the aU-demanding habit All this paci!ying reminds me ot the ladies and their PERMANENTS. For how long? A few weeks, or months at best? This is, indeed, a most brief permanency. Now comes the "NEW GOLD" product with their modest (?) claims. There not being much left for them to emphasize, they content themselves by saying: "Not so much TAR, RESIN, etc." and climax the weak argument with the trite announcement that they are "Not witch doctors, but smoking men!" Not to be outdone, the "SmeD-weU (?) comes out with an olTering "One umpteenth of an inch longer" than all others, so as to "FIlter" (?) the poisons on its way to your throat! They share this dubious distinction with "Chantfcleer" who also points out that their Giraffe's neck is longer than any other GiralTe's neck! What matters, if one neck is longer? They are still very much NECK! It is to snicker, were it not so tragic. But it does illustrate the lengths, not to mention the DEPTHS, the tobacco interests will go to deceive. One would think-to hear the soft honeyed words of the announcer, that tobacco was some sort of a delicious spread for sandwiches, instead of being one of the world's most deadly poisons. Something good for you, a sort of cure-all for almost everything, from chilblains to ingrowing toenails. Also, fame and fortune, sex appeal-EVERYTIIING awaits your t"'k;nR" un the habit. Joining ths- weary caravan that groan and wheeze their way to the shrine of Nicotine to assume the position. Tobacco is supposed to mend everything from a broken heart to the break of day, or the crack of doom. Surely, it is the most wonderful POISON ever invented. Other poisons are not so honored. THEY must bear the tell-tale skull and cross bones of DANGER. No so big business' little

weather, just pIe of drags.

for the questionable


of taking

a cou-

Read the papers. "Cigarette Causes big Blaze." What does it all matter if two hundred jillion barrels of gasoline are stored near by? They must smoke! What gives if the forest is dryas timber and ready for the torch? They smoke! Flipping the stub into the tall, dry, grass with a never a backward glance. What matters if hundreds of hotel guests are parboiled, barbecued, or just plain roasted? They gotta smoke. Who cares if the "High Flyer" loaded with explosive at the Texas City wharf, really flew high? They gotta take a drag, What of the hundreds of hospital and asylum patients, helpless, unable to escape, meet a most horrible death? The craving must be satisfied--or, rather pacified. Surely it affects their brains, if any!
It would seem that EVERYONE smokes. And, come to think of it, they do! Either first or second-hand. One has to breathe, you know, so one smokes, like it or lump it. So I repeat, they smoke-everywhere and any time. No place or anything is sacred. There is no escape. They will pull the vile smoke into their mouths, suck it DEEP down into their lungs, then bring it up and blow it with happy abandon directly into anyone's face who has the misfortune to be nearby. Say, I contend that it.would be just as ethical. logical. courteous-or what have you-for ME to take a drink of WATER, draw it into MY mouth, swish it round freely, then swallow it down into MY-pardon me, STOMACH. Alter that, 'belch it all up again, and spew it into the face of another. What's the REAL difference, pray tell? I'd guarantee one thing; my contribution would SMELL better! Oh, I almost forgot. I'm an old Iuddy-duddy. Excuse it, please. THAT was a blow, shall we say, BELOW THE BELT?

Have I mentioned the never-failing obedience of all the devotees of the weed to prohibitive laws and SIGNS? Pardon me, my fault, I shall take care of that, too, immediately. It is to laugh, though it is not one bit funny. A "NO SMOKING" signs means less than absolutely nothing to the average smoker! A conspicious sign at the front of the bus proclaims to all and sundry that all smokers must occupy the rear seats to woo lady Nicotine. BUT where do they invariably sit? You are SO right. Up front, where they smoke and puff and blow away at their heart's content. Blowing the offensive stench into everyone's face with the impunity born of long practice. Does the driver chide the offender, pointing a stern finger toward the sign? Not on your life, Buster for he too has a snipe between his fingers! In some state~ where 'laws' pro. hibit the smoking on the "Bluehounds" buses, it still makes no never mind. They sneak a smoke somehow behind the driver's back. The tell-tale blue wisp can be seen queering up from a number of seats. Does the driver sternly enforce the State Law? Seldom, and even then with an apologyhe doesn't make it stick. WHY? Because his heart isn't in it. He understands the craving, being a fellow-ptlgrim. I've seen them jump off the bus at every stop, often in zero

They smoke! The milkman smokes as he delivers the milk. The Bakery man smokes as he brings the bread. The delivery boy smokes as he delivers the groceries. Uncle Sam Nephews smoke as they bring the mail. The physician smokes as he calls upon his patients and TELLS SOME OF THEM TO GIVE UP SMOKING! The attorney-at-law smokes as he prepares his brief. The court room is full of foul smoke as they try the case. The prisoner smokes as he waits in his cell. The judge smokes as he prepares the charge to the jury. The jury, in turn, twelve good men and true, smoke as they deliberate his fate. The condemned, on his way to the gallows or electric chair, ask for ONE THING. Is it a last word to his wife or mother? A visit from the chaplain or a word from Holy Writ? Not on your life, son. A thousand times NO! He wants a last cigarette before he DIES! The executioner smokes as he prepares for the ordeal. The witnesses smoke as they wait. Once over, the undertaker smokes as he carries the body away. The grave-digger smokes as he digs the grave-and on, and on it goes, endlessly. The Constellation pilot smokes before the take-off. The Engineer smokes as he takes the train along shining rails.



The conductor smokes as he takes up the fares and the pas. sengers smoke as they ride along. The farmer smokes as he sows the seed or harvests the crops. The policeman smokes as he directs traffic. The cook smokes over the griddle as he prepares the menu, letting the ashes fall where they may. (What of it, the diner will think it is pepper, no doubt.) The pernicious habit has invaded the house of God. Some, not ALL preachers, thank God, smoke as they pore over their sermons. Did I not say there was nothing sacred? I saw one choir member stand in the doorway as they sang "Rock of Ages." Ever and anon between verses he would sneak a puff. Is that not about the last word? They light up a smoke as soon as they can get their noses safely outside the portals of the Sanctuary. Some even light up inside, unthoughtedly. They smoke at the new made grave, scarcely waiting for the minister's final "Amen." It has become our National and International shame and reproach. A person cannot wait for a bus or a train in peace. The whole waiting room is filled, saturated, with foul, blue fogsmoke from everyone's lungs. Is THAT sanitary, to say the least? Once on the train you are no better off, you are rather in a worse position-you are NOW sunk. You cannot get away. There is no escape, Buddy, you take it. From locornotive to rear Pullman the train soon becomes one continuous SMUDGE POT. AND if YOU don't like it, YOU can jump off the train. Who are YOU anyway? On the bus you are worse off still, if possible. Out of 40 passengers 38 are- smoking, and between the two, I'd take the bus exhaust. Death then would be quick, merciful, and no nicotine odor. A few months ago I rode a streamliner to California. It was a stainless steel, Vista dome Zephyr. It was a most beau. tiful train. I've always been wild about trains. Well, I arose early and bright after breakfast, went up into the vista dome to enjoy the scenery. It was wonderful. BUT it was too good to last. I might have known there wold come a serpent into my Eden. Surely enough, there were at least THREE, and they were at least THREE too many. Alas, alack and a day. In a few minutes other passengers began to climb the stairs and file down the aisle. Then the inevitable cigar. ettes were lighted. "It won't be long now" I choked to my. self. Soon the air became foul despite all modem air conditioning, vents, and what not. I gritted my teeth, (They're still my own) held my nose, said a little prayer, determined to stick it out, if humanly possible. I did so want to see that Fa. mous "Feather River Canyon" the folders had been raving about all the way from Chicago. The Zephyrette had just made the announcement over the loud speaker that we were soon to behold this spectacle in full bloom . . . and now, THIS. I was doing quite well, holding my head down as possible, when who should ascend the stairs but a man with an evil smelling pipe? By all the standards cency, this pipe should have been buried months, YEARS, back. He soon added his contribution to the as low gentleof demaybe stench,

which I assure you, was a sizable one. But I was bound and dete~ined to see that famous "Feather River." AI~s, my Brother the River of Life would have been more attainable, under the present circumstances. The proverbial last straw was soon added to my already sorely fractured back. I had not yet reached my Gethsemane. An~~er Ge~t c~me aboard armed with a long, black, hideous, VICIOUS, tinking CI~AR. s At once and forthwith he began laying down a veritable smoke screen" adding his offering to the s~ffocatio~ process. Washington should be notified of the me.rlts of hIS talents. In mortal combat, I highly recommend hIS smoke screen to stop everything cold. Merciful HEAVENS! Human flesh can stand but so much. It was MURDER with a capital M. It was literally "Suffocation without representation!" I surrendered without further ado. I ran up the white flag of shame. I showed the white feather. I was THROUGH, kaput, finished, done for Not only for that day, but days to come. "Feather River C~nyon" or no "Feather River Canyo~" th~ might,y Amazon. the MiSSissippi, the Thames or the Tiber-It wasn t worth the price. Staggering weakly down the stairs-funny how ramshackle they had suddenly became. The sway of t~e train didn't help matters any either. Grasping th,: handrail despe;ate!y WIth both hands, while my afore-mentioned stomach did flip-flops, cartwheels, and nose dives, I finally made the landing. Sadly I pondered if "This trip were Necessary." Or any subsequent trips when one man's smoke becomes another man's POISON. At last we pulled into Frisco and I stepped down into God's good, clean, pure, fresh AIR!. Peace, it was wonderful, without a doubt. Sometime be the God Lord willing, I'd like to take a wagon and team, ox cart, bicycle, or some other nice, quiet, clean. conveyance, and see that FAMOUS "FEATHER RIVER CANYON." What I saw of it, which was little was so obscured and eclipsed by a thick, blue, smelly haze. I'm not too sure that it wasn't the Blue Danube. I'm going to see that RIVER if it kills me. Which it probably will, if I ever have the audacity, the unmitigated gall, the supreme brass, and th~ limited brains to EVER try and see it from a TRAIN agam! I repeat, Gentlemen of the Jury, have smokers no regard whatsoever for OTHERS? Is chivalry entirely dead? There is not so much as "By your leave" any more. Little infants, aged grandmothers, the ill and infirm, and quite a few just plain NONSMOKERS suffer in silence. That is, until NOW! Then the women. They try so hard to imitate the men. They also bow low and long before the Nicotine god. But, I've never yet seen a woman who could smoke without appearing self-conscious. No matter how much they tum and twist and curve that cute little finger. And, further, consider the poor babes in arms. Of all the cigarette ashes dropped into their little faces and eyes. And all the foul breath they have to endure. If I were a modern baby, and



could be born all over again, I'd put up one awful howl to be a BOTTLE BABY, believe me. Poor deluded females. Traded their birthright for a mess of pottage, and I do mean MESS. Succumbed to a fate "Worse than death" no less. Such a thin chested, holly-cheeked, sunken eyed lot. Bony fingers clutching a smouldering cigarette. Sallow skin, dead "Fish" eyes that stare unseeing out of a death's head. No sparkle or twinkle of the joy of living. The flame forever extinguished. Living from one cigarette until the next. The little hand that NOW rocks the cradle . . . provided she hasn't been made BARREN by nicotine . . . is stained an Indelible walnut BROWN ... the trade mark, with which King Nicotine brands ALL his slaves. The fabled pearly white teeth are now scaley with nicotine's adamant crust. The sweet breath, once the inspiration of poets and sages, smells to high heaven of the lowest sewers, and that once pretty cupid-bow mouth and those rosy lips? Alas, my sister, they are now merely the outlet, the EXHAUST for a smoking machine. And that cute little turned up pug nose? It has long since degenerated into a mere FUNNEL for the escaping cigarette fumes. What a shame that a poor unsuspecting country boy can no longer kiss his sweetheart without smelling a Dromedary! Goats run and hide and skunks hurriedly resign in utter confusion and chagrin ... the smoker is winner in the STINK contest "Two to one!" Another thing; the manner in which nearly all smokers RESENT anything said about their little Brown god convinces me they are on the wrong side of the question. You may curse their aged father or grandfather, slap their gray-haired mother or grandmother, insult their sweet sisters, but you "Darest" open your mouth about his little Brown god! Not one in a hundred will "Take" anything said . . . especially from the pulpit about the tobacco habit. I once heard a noted temperance lecturer say: "When you ask the Holy Spirit to live in a nicotine saturated BODY, you are asking Him to live in a TOBACCO BARN ... " I Cbrinthians 3:16-18 makes it VERY clear that the body is HOLY and is the HOUSE that the Holy Spirit lives in. One big tobacco company came out recently with the statement that enough of their product has been manufactured, sold, and consumed, in the United States alone, that every man, woman, and child could have had nearly 150 packs each! They further declared that they could double their capacity. It has been said that they want to put a cigarette in every high school student's mouth. Passing by the school ground nowdways one would feel that they have about accomplished this goal. Take just a logical common sense view. If a person had a habit ... any habit __ . that demanded so much and gave so little (NOTHING) it would be foolish to continue. If a fellow had to run and wash his face and hands about every half hour ... he would soon be the laughing stock of the community. If a fellow had a teerrible appetite for anything that he had to attend to it every 15 minutes or so, day and night, people everywhere would declare that he was "Going crazy"

over it. But. not one peep do you hear about anyone "Going crazy over tobacco." Not even when he cuts the groceries short that he may lay in a goodly supply of his favorite brand. Not even when he develops a heart condition or cancer of the lip, or T.B.-no one dares assume tobacco is to blame! Think of all the inconveniences caused innocent people. The spilled ashes over lovely furniture. The burned rugs and scorched tables, the smelly curtains and "Stunk-up" cars. For, one must admit that tobacco is NOT some lovely and fragrant perfume. It is most offensive to a lot of people, who have to ENDURE it and practice the courtesy so lacking in those who indulge. Many people come home with their clothing saturated with the fumes so that it takes days to rid the garments of it. Is it gentlemanly or ladylike to impose suffering on people continually because of one's own inborn selfishness? One final fling: can you, by any flights of the imagination, see any of the apostles smoking? Peter? James? John, the Beloved? Would you dare even think that Jesus would so pollute Himself Well, my friend, He left us an example to follow in His steps, who did no sin. (Smoke) "Why spend your money for that which is not bread, or your labor for that which satisfieth not?" Finally, it is a terrible WASTE of money. Even a pack a day ... which is most conservative ... would amount to 365 packs a year and at 25 cents a pack? This would buy one good suit or two suits at a conservative figure. Over a period of a few years the a""'ount would run into thousands of dollars ... WASTED! Think of what some missionary could have done with all this l ..o.iey. 'j_ runk or the Shoes, food it would buy. A man and wife BOTH smoking would soon puff away enough to pay for a nice little home in their old age. It would educate their children. It would pay for a nice vacation abroad. BUT NO! It goes up in smoke from the altar of the little Brown god, Nicotine. A shameful, and I believe, sinful, waste. Surely, there is a BETTER to find it. way, my friend. God help you