for the corn-pone which Mrs. Braile passed him. "You do beat all, Squire,
the way you take the shine off of religious experience. Why," he addressed
himself to Mrs. Braile, "it wasn't much, as fur as anybody could make out.
It was just the queerness of the whole thing." Reverdy went over the facts
again, beginning with deprecation for the Squire but gathering respect for
them in the interest they seemed to have for Mrs. Braile.

She listened silently, and then she asked, "And what became of him?"

"Well, that's where you got me, Mrs. Braile. Don't anybody know what
become of him. Just kind of went out like a fire, when the Power was
workun' the hardest, and wasn't there next time you looked where he been.
Kind o' th'owed cold water on the meetun' and folks begun goun' home, and
breakun' up and turnun' in; well it was pretty nigh sun-up, anyway, by
that time. I don't know! Made me feel all-overish. Seemed like I'd been
dreamun' and that man was a Vision." Reverdy had lifted an enraptured
face, but at sight of Braile pausing in sarcastic pleasure, he dropped his
head with a snicker. "I know the Squire'll laugh. But that's the way it
was."

"He'll laugh the other side of his mouth, some day, if he keeps on," Mrs.
Braile said with apparent reproof and latent pride. "Was Sally at the
meetin' with you?"

"Well, no, she wasn't," Reverdy began, and Braile asked:

"And did you wake her up and tell her about it?"

"Well, no, I didn't, Squire, that's a fact. She woke me up. I just crep'
in quiet and felt out the soft side of a puncheon for a nap, and the firs'