people got their supplies in exchange for their produce.
The women wove their cloth and linen and spun their yarn and did the
dairy work, while the men cleared and planted and built log houses,
barns and cribs. We were heartily welcomed by these good, primitive
people. They had waited so long for a shepherd to lead them that many
of the congregation were in waiting and the elders and trustees were
on hand to see to the conveyance of the household goods, which were
quickly put in waiting wagons.

[Illustration: JEWEL WORN BY LADY BARBARA METZGER

Great-grandmother of Mrs. Blake-Alverson]

It was the Indian summer of the year. The foliage was bright and the
air crisp and cool. Although a child, the impression made upon me was
one that I have gone over in my mind many times, and I can see every
inch of the road, the kind people, the beautiful scenery, birds of
bright plumage, and rabbits darting across the road at the sound of
our wheels. It was late when the journey was ended, but we were made
welcome and comfortable by more pleasant faces and willing hands. The
parsonage was a large, barnlike-looking place, built partly of logs
and "shakes." There was one large room and two small ones adjoining
and a shed that extended the length of the house. In the large room
was a fine, spacious fireplace, into which had been rolled a large log
and a bright fire was blazing which sent a glow of warmth and lit up
the logs and rafters and the strips of white plaster, used to close up
the cracks and keep the warmth within the room. The floors were made
of oak and were white and clean. Several old-fashioned split-bottom
chairs graced the room, a long table was placed in the center, upon
which was spread a snow-white linen cloth of homespun, and woven by
the women. While the wraps were being removed the women had placed
upon the table the best that could be prepared for the pastor's
welcome. I'll never forget the delicious roast chicken; baked sweet
potatoes, baked in the ashes, for cook stoves were not known; the fine
hot corn pone baked in the Dutch oven, hot coals heaped upon the lid
to brown and crisp; fresh sweet butter, pickles, preserves. Generous
loaves of bread, biscuit and cake filled the pantries.

When father entered the room and saw the preparation that had been
made he was overcome with the tender hospitality of the women of his
new charge. He could not restrain his tears. As they all surrounded
the table, he raised his h