 When I could go no further, I turned down a court and came to a little Methodist chapel. In that chapel, there might have been a dozen or 15 people. The minister didn't come that morning. He was snowed in, I suppose. A poor man, a shoemaker, a tailor, or something of that sort, went into the pulpit to preach. He was obliged to stick to the text for the simple reason that he had nothing else to say.