The Methodists of Lyon Mountain

     THURSDAY, April 4, 1892, I reached Plattsburg, where the Troy Annual Conference was holding its sixtieth session, Bishop Randolph S. Foster presiding.  I was personally acquainted with many of the members, and they supposed that I was present as a newspaper representative.  I found Presiding Elder Hughes, of the Troy Distnct, after he had come out of that day's cabinet session, and asked him if Brother Brown, of Berlin, had written him about sending me to that charge. Yes," replied the elder, "but the letter came too late; a Conference man has already been slated for Berlin. If I had known a week ago that you desired work in the pastorate, I could have arranged it, but there's nothing on the Troy District left but Hoag's.  The salary is $300, helped out by the missionary fund. You wouldn't want that?" "I'll see about it;" and I went aside to think it over.  I reasoned that it would be mighty close work to get along on $300, and with that salary I could do nothing toward paying my bills.  But I concluded I would go, if the presiding elder could not get a Conference man and the place was left to be supplied.
     The next day, during the session of the Conference, I was introduced to Rev. George A. Barrett, the Presiding Elder of the Plattsburg District, by my son-in-law, Rev. William H. Edwards, who also informed Brother Barrett that I had come up to Conference expecting to be appointed to supply the church at Berlin.  "Perhaps," continued Brother Edwards, "you might have a place for him on your district ? "Maybe so ; I'll see. The elder turned away, but came back and said: "Suppose you two come down to my house to dinner; that will give me a chance to talk with Brother Allen, and we will see what can be done.  I think I do need a man on in my district."When we reached the residence
of Brother Barrett, the latter took me to his study, and after questioning me somewhat as to my plans for the future he
said there were three appointments on his district for which no definite arrangement had yet been made-Dannemora,
Upper Jay and Keene, and Lyon Mountain."Would you have any personal choice for either of these places?" the elder
inquired. "Yes, sir, Upper Jay and Keene, as that would bring me nearer to my son-in-law's charge." "Well, we will see
what develops in the cabinet."
     After the next cabinet meeting Brother Barrett said to me "I desire to make it as pleasant as I can for you  but I find
that it is  more difficult to get an available man for Lyon Mountain than for either of the other places mentioned.
Somehow I feel that you can do the district better service at Lyon Mountain than at Dannemora or Upper Jay. "I will go to Lyon Mountain if you desire it.'' "Then we will let it stand that way, and if no new complications come up in the cabinet, I will have you slated for Lyon Mountain." I at once began to inquire among the brethren about Lyon Mountain. "0h, Lyon Mountain !  It's out in the wilderness beyond Clinton Prison-a mining camp. The parsonage is a log hut, and all the people live in cabins. They're a wild element, Hungarians, Polanders, French, Swedes, and a few Americans.  When they are not buried under the snows of winter they are dying off like sheep with typhoid fever and other epidemics. The water is bad, and it's sickly all the year round.  I pity the man that is sent to that place" Others shrugged their shoulders when Lyon Mountain was referred to, but I found one man who said: "You will be disappointed in the place; but you will find warm hearts up there.  They have the name of Sabbath breakers-hunting and fishing on the Lord's day, and that sort of recreation-and they have had a church quarrel that came near breaking up the Methodist society.  It grew out of the attempt of a few 'kickers, to establish another church, but nearly everybody on the mountain got mixed up in the fight. The Methodists still hold the fort, but there are many soreheads. You will find a few loyal souls up there." I felt the need of prayer, and hastened to the residence of Mrs. Henry, on Oak Street, where I was entertained, and going up to my room I "committed it all to the Lord," and determined to go on, trusting in the Mighty to save. The appointments were announced by Bishop Foster, Monday afternoon.  He called: Lyon Mountain, to be supplied-"By Stanton P. Allen," added Presiding Elder Barrett, and I hastened to the telegraph office to send a dispatch to my wife. Brother Barrett evinced much interest in my welfare, and said he would go with me Tuesday morning to Lyon Mountain and introduce me to some of the church people; but as the retiring pastor, Rev. John P. Crane, was going back to ship his effects, the elder left me in his care.  Brother Crane went with me, and I was made acquainted with some of the villagers. We returned to Plattsburg on the afternoon train, he to go to South Glens Falls; his new charge, and I to return to Troy to "pack my kilapsack for another campaign."
     My first impressions of Lyon Mountain were anything but favorable.  With few exceptions the residences were two-room log cabins, with sleeping apartments in the garrets.  These cabins were scattered over the hills and down
in the valley, the intervening fields being filled with stumps and rocks-not a tree in the corporation.  Ore sand was blown about by the wind and flooded down in the bottom land by the brook from the separator.  It was raining -how easy and often it rains at Lyon Mountain only the inhabitants know. A cold, bleak, dismal day!  I went to the parsonage with Brother Crane.  It was a log cabin of the better kind, two rooms, with kitchen addition below and sleeping rooms above, low ceilings and small windows.  While Brother Crane was "tagging" his goods down stairs, I ventured up into the chamber, and took a look at the rooms.  They were small affairs, with the roof slanting across one side, and the devil whispered: "What will your poor sick wife do in these cubby-holes?" I did not listen to the tempter; but, kneeling down by the bedstead in the "biggest" bedroom, I called on the heavenly Father for grace to sustain me and reconcile me to my surroundings.  And I consecrated myself to the work before me-ready to die, if need be, in the Master's service.
 

    Sunday, April 9, 1893, the last Sabbath of  the Conference year, was a day of power and..................
 

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