issy couldn't understand half his fiery eloquence; but she
felt his inspiration; and she gathered that most of the congregation
must be sinners. Knowing herself to be a sinner, she wasn't so much
surprised at that.

Finally Brother Poole, with quavering voice, urged all sinners to come
forward and kneel at the feet of Jesus, and pray to be "washed in the
blood of the lamb." Thus would their sins be forgiven them, and their
souls be born anew. Missy's soul quivered and stretched up to be born
anew. So, with several other sinners--including grandpa and grandma
whom she had never before suspected of sin--she unhesitatingly walked
forward. She invoked the grace of God; her head, her body, her feet
seemed very light and remote as she walked; she seemed, rather, to
float; her feet scarcely touched the red-ingrain aisle "runner"--she
was nearly all spirit. She knelt before the altar between grandpa and
grandma, one hand tight-clasped in grandpa's.

Despite her exaltation, she was conscious of material things. For
instance she noted that Mrs. Brenning was on the other side of grandma,
and wondered whether she were atoning for the sins of her chickens
against Mrs. Jones's tomato-vines; she noticed, too, that Mrs.
Brenning's hat had become askew, which gave her a queer, unsuitable,
rakish look. Yet Missy didn't feel like laughing. She felt like closing
her eyes and waiting to be born anew. But, before closing her eyes, she
sent a swift glance up at the choir platform. Polly Currier was still up
there, looking very placid as she sang with the rest of the choir. They
were singing a rollicking tune. She listened--

"Pull for the shore, sailor! Pull for the shore! Leave the poor old
strangled wretch, and pull for the shore!"

Who was the old strangled wretch? A sinner, doubtless. Ah, the world
was full of sin. She looked again at Polly. Polly's placidity was
reassuring; evidently she was not a sinner. But it was time to close her
eyes. However, before doing so, she sent a swift upward glance toward
the preacher. He had a look on his face as though an electric light had
been turned on just inside. He was praying fervently for God's grace
upon "these Thy repentant creatures." Missy shut her eyes, repented
violently, and awaited the miracle. What would happen? How would it
feel, when her soul was born anew? Surely it must be time. She waited
and waited, while her limbs grew numb and her soul continued to quiver
and stretch up. But i