t of things to think about and be careful of.

[Illustration: Almost Struck]

I hadn't told Mitch because I didn't know just how he'd take it, even if
he was a preacher's son; but I'd been goin' at nights sometimes down at
a revival or protracted meeting at the church, not Mr. Miller's, but
another church, a Baptist, I believe, or maybe Campbellite. And I had
listened to the revivalist and heard the singin' and the experience
speeches. And heard the revivalist say that you had to be immersed, that
baptized meant to be put clear under, and that sprinklin' wouldn't do.

So I got Mitch to go the next night after the wedding, to see what he
thought, but also to pay him back a little for takin' me to the fight
and to the wedding. We went in together and sat down pretty fur back,
and the meeting began. A man got up pretty fat and good natured, with a
voice that just went into you like when you push one key of the organ
down and keep pumpin'. And he said a long prayer and asked for light and
help, and for light to shine in the hearts of the people present, so as
to show 'em their sin; and to save people from death, and from sudden
death, and if they died, then that they might be ready and be saved. And
he asked for power to preach the gospel and for humbleness and
understanding to receive the gospel after it was preached. And so on for
a good while. And a good many said, "Amen." And then they sang "Angel
Voices Ever Singing." Then the revivalist asked for songs and somebody
called out, "Away in a Manger, No Crib for a Bed"; and they sang that.
He asked for another one--and somebody called out, "There Were Ninety
and Nine that Safely Lay." And somebody else wanted "I was a Wandering
Sheep." And so it went till you could kind of feel things workin' up
like when the lightning made me tingle. Then this revivalist preached a
bit and talked about salvation and baptism, and about believin' and
being baptized in order to be saved. Then they had another song, "Work,
for the Night is Coming"; and then the revivalist called for experience
speeches. And old John Doud, the photographer, got up first, right
away. He was bald and one of his eyes was out; he was fat and his mouth
watered. And he began to tell what religion had done for him; how before
he got religion nobody could live with him, he was so selfish and cross;
how he was mean to his wife, and how he drank sometimes. And now he was
all different; he was happy all the day and agre