I've niver seen sich tewin' o' t' spirit sin I becom a Methody. 'Twere a
hot neight, and what wi' t' heat an' t' spiritual exercises, t'
penitents were fair reekin' an' sweatin'. We went thro' one to t' other
and kept pleadin' wi' 'em. 'Tread t' owd devil under fooit,' says we;
'think on t' blooid o' t' Lamb that weshes us thro' all sin.' An' t'
penitents would holla out: 'I can't, I can't: he's ower strang for me;
I'm baan to smoor i' hell fires.' But t' local were stranger nor t'
devil for all that, an' first one an' then another on 'em would shout
out: 'I'm saved; I've fun' Him, I've fun' the Lord!' Then they'd git up
an' walk out o' t' room that weak you could hae knocked 'em down wi' a
feather.

"At lang length there was nobbut Sam Learoyd left. He was quieter nor t'
others, but t' load o' sins about his heart was as tough as Whangby
cheese. So me an' t' preacher gat on either side o' him an' we prayed
an' better prayed, but all for nowt. So at last Sam got up off his
knees, an' wi' a despert look on his face, says: 'Let me be. If I'm baan
to find salvation I'll find it misen.'

"At that we gav ower prayin', but kept kneelin' by his side an' waited
for the Lord to sattle t' job. An' outside t' wind were yowlin' as if it
would blow down t' walls and chimleys. But warr nor t' yowlin' o' t'
wind were t' groans o' Sam Learoyd.

"After a while t' groans gat easier, and then t' local started singin'
in a low voice, 'Rock of Ages.' But Sam would have noan o' his singin'.
So we just waited to see what would happen. Well, after a while t'
groans stopped, an' Sam lifted up his heead an' looked round. 'Arta
saved?' asked t' local, and Sam answered: 'I'm convicted o' sin.'
'Praise be to God,' sang out t' local, and we gat Sam off his knees and