eable to everybody and
had been good to his wife before she died, and generous to everybody and
didn't care whether he had a dollar in his pocket or a coat on his back
so long as he could help somebody; and how he hated drink now--couldn't
bear the sight of it; and he was thankful and ready to die any minute
and go to the blest in heaven and meet his wife, who was there. Lots of
people talked right out loud while he was speakin' and said, "Yes,"
"That's it," "That's what it does for you," and such like. And he sat
down, but popped right up again and said there was a man in town who
needed the prayers of the church and he says, "You all know him--Joe
Pink." Of course we all knew Joe Pink, who was the honorariest man in
town, and a good deal in jail.

[Illustration: John Doud]

Then Harry Bailey got up. He'd had religion before several times. Every
winter he got it if there was a revival; and if somebody had a new way
of being baptized, he'd try it. He went on to say that he'd been
sprinkled and dipped; that he'd had the double baptism of bein'
sprinkled and dipped, but he'd never been really immersed--baptized; and
now he knew it was the only thing and he'd been livin' in sin all these
years. They said halleluyah to that, and everybody began to shake his
hand, and pat him on the back, till pretty soon he keeled over in a fit
like he had sometimes, and the revivalist said--"Just stand back--he may
have the gift of tongues and begin to prophesy." But Harry just laid
there kind a kickin' like a chicken with its head off and finally got up
and sat down ready to be received into the church when they had the
general baptism. They had a kind of tank under the pulpit, and when they
got enough to make it worth while, the revivalist put on rubber boots
and stepped down into this here tank and received 'em as they came to
him, puttin' 'em clear under and then takin' 'em out.

[Illustration: Mrs. Penny]

After Harry Bailey talked, Mrs. Penny talked. She said she could do more
washin' since she got into the church than ever, and that it had been
the makin' of her. John Cruzan, a fighter, said he hadn't wanted to hurt
a livin' soul since he was baptized. And so it went.

Mitch was settin' on the end of the seat next the aisle, and I was on
the inside. Pretty soon the revivalist came down and spied Mitch. He
just saw him as a boy, and didn't know who he was. Just then they were
singin' "Knockin', Knockin', Who is There?" And it wa