"Well, I hain't any objections to ownin' up to ev'rybody I know. Didn't
I tell you an' the judge? Didn't I tell Nan and the children? I ain't
seen anybody else yet, or I'd told them too. But I can't say nothin' to
a crowd like this; I don't know how."

"He'll give you words, Samuel, if you've got the right heart in you."

"Is that a dead-sure thing?"

"Certainly."

Further argument and protest were ended by the formal opening of the
meeting. It appeared to the deacon that the first hymn was sung with
more sound and spirit than usual, and on looking around he saw the
cause: it was literally a "packed house,"--the first one the church had
ever known on a prayer-meeting night. The deacon immediately let his
own voice out a little more, for he felt personally complimented by the
large attendance. He had told a number of persons of Sam's conversion
and of his own intention to have the man "put himself on record" before
a number of witnesses; evidently this word had gone about and caused
the great gathering.

Prayers, hymns, and short speeches and confessions succeeded one
another for a little while, and the deacon, glancing aside frequently,
saw his charge look more and more uncomfortable, helpless, and
insignificant as the exercises continued. This would not do; should
the fellow become thoroughly frightened, he might not be able to say
anything; this would be disappointing to the assemblage, and somewhat
humiliating to him who had announced the special attraction of the
evening. Sam's opportunity must come at once; he, the deacon, did not