He was a home boy , ten years old , and Millison just about worked him to death . The poor little creature was always so tired he fell asleep right off whenever he went to church or anywhere he could sit still for a few minutes . He 'd been sleeping all through the meeting , and I was thankful to see the poor child getting a rest , believe ME . Well , when Fiske 's voice went soaring skyward and the rest joined in , poor Ikey wakened with a start . He thought it was just an ordinary singing and that everybody ought to stand up , so he scrambled to his feet mighty quick , knowing he 'd get a combing down from Maria Millison for sleeping in meeting . Fiske saw him , stopped and shouted , ` Another soul saved ! Glory Hallelujah ! ' And there was poor , frightened Ikey , only half awake and yawning , never thinking about his soul at all . Poor child , he never had time to think of anything but his tired , overworked little body . `` Leslie went one night and the Fiske-man got right after her -- oh , he was especially anxious about the souls of the nice-looking girls , believe me ! -- and he hurt her feelings so she never went again . And then he prayed every night after that , right in public , that the Lord would soften her hard heart . Finally I went to Mr. Leavitt , our minister then , and told him if he did n't make Fiske stop that I 'd just rise up the next night and throw my hymn book at him when he mentioned that ` beautiful but unrepentant young woman . ' I 'd have done it too , believe ME . Mr. Leavitt did put a stop to it , but Fiske kept on with his meetings until Charley Douglas put an end to his career in the Glen . Mrs. Charley had been out in California all winter . She 'd been real melancholy in the fall -- religious melancholy -- it ran in her family . Her father worried so much over believing that he had committed the unpardonable sin that he died in the asylum . So when Rose Douglas got that way Charley packed her off to visit her sister in Los Angeles . She got perfectly well and came home just when the Fiske revival was in full swing .
She stepped off the train XXXXX the Glen , real smiling and chipper , and the first thing she saw staring her in the face on the black , gable-end of the freight shed , was the question , in big white letters , two feet high , ` Whither goest thou -- to heaven or hell ? '
about after at for if in of off so through