Old Daddy Barker preached that night, and a mighty good sermont.  His text, ef I ricollect right, was “workin’ out your own salvation;” and when I listen to preachers nowadays in ther big churches and ther fine pulpits, I allus think o’ Daddy Barker, and kind o’ some way wisht the old times could come agin, with the old log meetin’-house with its puncheon floor and the chinkin’ in the walls, and old Daddy Barker in the pulpit.  He’d make you feel ’at the Lord could make hissef at home there, and find jist as abundant comfort in the old log house as he could in any of your fine-furnished churches ’at you can’t set down in ‘thout payin’ far the privilege, like it was a theater.

Ezry had his two little girls jine that night, and I ricollect the preacher made sich a purty prayer about the Savior a-cotin’ from the Bible ’bout “Suffer little childern to come unto me” and all; and talked so purty about the jedgment day, and mothers a-meetin’ the’r little ones there and all; and went on tel ther wasn’t a dry eye in the house—­and jist as he was a-windin’ up, Abe Riggers stuck his head in at the door and hollered “fire” loud as he could yell.  We all rushed out, a-thinkin’ it was the meetin’-house; but he hollered it was the mill; and shore enough, away off to the southards we could see the light acrost the woods, and see the blaze a-lickin’ up above the trees.  I seed old Ezry as he come a-scufflin’ through the crowd; and we put out together far it.  Well, it was two mild to the mill, but by the time we’d half way got there, we could tell it wasn’t the mill a-burnin’, ’at the fire was furder to the left, and that was Ezry’s house; and by the time we got there it wasn’t much use.  We pitched into the household goods, and got out the beddin’, and the furnitur’ and cheers and the like o’ that; saved the clock and a bedstid, and got the bureau purt’ nigh out when they hollered to us ’at the roof was a cavin’ in, and we had to leave it; well, we’d tuck the drawers out, all but the big one, and that was locked; and it and all in it went with the buildin’, and that was a big loss:  All the money ’at Ezry was a-layin’ by was in that-air drawer, and a lot o’ keepsakes and trinkets ’at Ezry’s woman said she wouldn’t a-parted with far the world and all.

I never seed a troubleder fambly than they was.  It jist ’peared like old Ezry give clean down, and the women and childern a-cryin’ and a-takin’ on.  It looked jist awful—­shore’s you’re born!—­Losin’ ever’thing they’d worked so hard far—­and there it was, purt’ nigh midnight, and a fambly, jist a little while ago all so happy, and now with no home to go to ner nothin’!

It was arranged far Ezry’s to move in with Bills—­that was about the on’y chance—­on’y one room and a loft; but Bills said they could manage some way, far a while anyhow.

Bills said he seed the fire when it first started, and could a-put it out ef he’d on’y be’n strong enough to git there; said he started twic’t to go, but was too weak and had to go back to bed agin; said it was a-blazin’ in the kitchen roof when he first seed it.  So the gineral conclusion ’at we all come to was—­it must a-ketched from the flue.