They had not been converted, therefore she prayed for
them as if they were still dead in their trespasses and sins.

The first year of William's ministry in this place the two younger sons
were converted and joined the church, but the oldest still "held out,"
as the saying was. In fact, he stayed out of the church literally,
never coming to any service.

The next year Sister Carleton had grown very feeble, but at a
consecration meeting held one afternoon before the regular revival
service at night, she appeared as usual. Before the closing hymn she
arose, clasped her old hands over the back of the bench in front of her
and made her last petition for the "prayers of all Christian people."

"Brother Thompson," she concluded in the deep raucous voice of extreme
age, "I have prayed for my youngest boy fifty years, and for my second
boy fifty-two years, and for my oldest son nearly sixty years. The two
youngest air saved now, but t'other is still out of the fold. I ain't
losin' faith, but I'm gittin' tired. Seems as if I couldn't hold out
much longer. But I can't go till Jimmy is saved. I ain't got nothin'
else keepin' me but that." She paused, looked about her as if she felt
a memory brush past. "When he was jest a little one, no higher 'an
that, he was afeerd of the dark. I always had to set by him till he
was asleep. And now, seems as if I couldn't leave him for good out in
the dark. I want to ast you to pray, not that he may be converted, but
that he may be converted this very night. I ain't got time to wait no
longer--seems as if I'm jest obliged to git still and rest soon."

She sank back upon the bench, and I wondered what William would do. I
never was prepared for the audacity of his faith. But that was one
kind of dare he never took.

"Sister Carleton," he replied, "I feel that your prayer will be
answered. I've got the faith to believe your son will come here
tonight and be saved from his sins."

I wished that he had not been so definite. I felt that it would have
been wiser to give some general expression of hope. I feared the
effects upon the rest of the congregation and upon William, when we
returned for the night service and James Carleton should not be there
even, and I was sure he would not be. I reckon first and last I must
have halved the strength of William's faith by my lack of faith.

The truth is so bold, so absurd from the present worldly point of view
that I almost hesitate