Extract of a letter from the Rev. William Dickey, to the Editor of the Western Luminary, dated Bloomingburg, Ohio, Jan. 28th 1829.
'Let me give you an incident in my late missionary tour. Finding myself in the neighborhood of the Missionary station at Upper Sandusky, I turned in to see them. The superintendent, Rev. Mr. Thompson, received me kindly. Here is a great farm, a good barn- a neat stone church- mills on the river- a mission house-a school house- a house for the blacksmith, and a house for the superintendent,with other convenient buildings. The old military block-house, with its 56 port holes, portending temporal death; and the missionary house, within less than one hundred yards, promising eternal life, form a pleasing contrast-especially as the latter is new and in good repair, and the former old, and going fast to decay.- I went into the school, and saw 54 red boys and girls in different grades of learning-some spelling Ba-ker, some reading the easy lessons, some writing, others learning the power of figures-in the common rules-the rule of three- and some in practice. Six fine boys read me a lesson in the English Reader; they read with ease-12 girls read in the Testament.- The superintendent encouraged me that the greater part of them would understand me in a plain religious address, if I would aim at simplicity.- I took the part just read by the girls. It was Luke 11,1-13, which furnished me a fine occasion for showing these dear children of the wilderness, the nature of prayer-the necessity of importunity in that duty, and the encouragement we have to engage in it. Their open countenances and interesting eyes, gave me the pleasure of knowing that they understood and approved what they heard.
'I passed the evening agreeably with the superintendent and his economical wife till nine o'clock; when I was surprised by a sudden and loud blast of the trumpet. I learned that it was the signal for family worship, and that I must conduct the exercise. I had found in the course of the evening that they had some of Dr. Watt's hymns translated into Wyandot. As we walked to the school room, I signified my wish to hear them sing in Indian. It wa but a few minutes from the blast of the trumpet till we were all in our places. The roll was called, and Nancy Gray-Eyes, Philip Mud Eater 'c, 'c., answered to their names. Then a chapter was read, and Mr. Thompson said, 'we will sing the hymn.'
'When I can read my title clear.'
Sing in Indian --- now children, all sing'. They stood up, and a young Christian Indian, called Clark, set the tune. They generally sung.- It was wild and romantic, and loud as mill boys. But I occupied the room of the unlearned. Then, after commending ourselves to God in prayer, we retired for the night. Next morning the trumpet blew at 6 o'clock, and, after worship, I left them, saying to myself, what hath God wrought!