I was a teacher in the Methodist Sunday school and had given perfect satisfaction up to this time; but things changed.  The minister said from the pulpit that the teachers should be Methodists, and spoke so pointedly that all knew he meant me.  The superintendent at the Episcopal Sunday school asked me to teach in their Sunday school. (This was Judge Williams, the husband of Lola, Mr. Nation’s daughter.) I did so, and things went smoothly for a while.

Father Denroach was the minister, and one morning he asked the school questions out of the catechism.  My class could not answer.  I arose and said:  “Father Denroach, I do not teach my class the catechism, I use only God’s word.”  “What objection do you find to the catechism?” he asked.  I replied:  “I cannot teach the Bible and catechism, for one contradicts the other.  The gospel is to be believed and obeyed and a Christian is a follower of Christ.  The catechism in the first lesson asks this question:  What is your name?  ‘Bob, Tom or John.’  ‘When did you get that name?’ ‘In my baptism, when I was made a Christian.’  “Baptism never did make a Christian.  Infants cannot be made Christians, they cannot follow Christ, cannot believe or obey the Gospel.  Jesus said:  ’Of such is the Kingdom of Heaven!  Now if I teach my class that the state of being a Christian is something they get without the exercise of their will, I contradict what I have been teaching.”  The dear old man walked up and down the aisle shaking his robes.  I said:  “A house divided against itself cannot stand.”  You must have an Episcopalian teacher to teach your doctrine.”  So I was shut out from teaching in the only two churches in Richmond.

I could not be satisfied.  I tried to get the Methodist church for a Mission school in the afternoon, but failed.  I got plank for seats and after dinner on Lord’s Day I had my hotel dining-room seated and gathered all the little ones I could.  These were largely children who went to no Sunday-School.  I got five Catholic children to attend.  We had an attendance of from thirty to forty.  We bought an organ, had our charts and maps.  One poor saloon keeper named Frost came several times and always gave a dollar.  He was killed in the fight between the Jaybirds and Peckerwoods in Richmond.  This work was a blessing to my soul and I have seen happy results from that little school.  I kept this up until I left there for Kansas.  The last Sunday we all went to the graveyard to study our lesson.  I wished by this to impress the little ones with the purpose of the Gospel.

I have had visions and dreams that I know were sent to me by my Heavenly Father to warn or comfort or instruct me.  I notice my dreams, not all, but I can tell the significant ones, usually by the impression they make on me.  The dream that comes to me just before waking up generally means something to me.  To dream of snakes has always been a bad omen to me.  When I first started out smashing, while in Wichita jail, I dreamed of two enormous snakes, one on one side of a road, the other on the other; one raised to strike me, the other made no move.  I was impressed that the one that was the most venomous and in the attitude of striking me with its fangs was the Republican party, and this has been my deadly foe.