while some of them had. But when I was in the prison a man come along
that talked to me about Jesus like I never was talked to before.
Somehow I could understand what he was drivin' at. He made me feel that
I had a friend that I could foller, even if I didn't keep up with him
all the time, owin' to things in the road that I hadn't knowed about.
He told me if I'd b'lieve in Jesus as I b'lieved in Andrew Jackson, I'd
pull through in the course of time. I've been tryin' to do it, an'
while I was in the jail I got lots of new idees of how I ort to behave
myself, all from a little book that man left me, that didn't have
nothin' in it but Jesus' own words. I'm a-goin' to keep on at it, an'
if I can't live that way I'm goin' to die a-tryin'. I b'lieve that's
all I've got to say, ladies and gentlemen."

There was an awkward silence for a moment after Sam sat down. The
minister in charge of the meeting said afterwards that the remarks were
not exactly what he had expected, and he did not know, at such short
notice, how to answer them. Suddenly a hymn was started by a voice
which every one knew, though they seldom heard it in prayer-meeting. It
belonged to Judge Prency's wife, who for years had been the mainstay of
every musical entertainment which had been dependent upon local talent.
The hymn began,--

Am I a soldier of the cross,

and the assemblage sang it with great force and spirit. The meeting was
closed soon afterwards; and as Sam, in spite of an occasional kind
greeting, was endeavoring to escape from the hard stare of curious
eyes, Mrs. Judge Prency, who was the handsomest and most distinguished
woman in the village, stopped him, grasped his hand, and said,--