Wonders never cease. At this time Soldier Jack turned religious, and began to be very constant in his attendance at Powle Moor, and there was much rejoicing in the camp of the godly over this brand plucked from the burning. Of a surety there is more rejoicing over one sinner that is saved than over ninety and nine righteous men. And Jack announced his resolve to forswear sack and live cleanly. He took a little cottage in the village, which he minded himself, and it was a picture of cleanliness, tho' it was not over stocked with furniture. You should have seen Jack polishing his fender, pipe-claying he called it. There was a stormy scene, folk said, between him and Widow Walker, the buxom landlady of the Black Bull, the day Jack paid his last shot and announced his resolve to frequent that hostelry no more. The lady wept and stormed and even threatened Jack with the terrors of the law; but Jack was adamant. "Dost think awn goin' to tak' up wi' that owd swill-tub's leavin's?" Jack asked when I questioned him as to his rupture with the hostess of the Black Bull. "Yo' used to crack on her famous," I replied. "Ah! that wer' i' mi salat days, Ben, an' aw'll thank yo' not to throw them days of darkness i' mi face." "But what's converted yo, Soldier?" I asked. "Parson Webster." "H...m" "Aye, tha may h...m, that's ever the way wi' scoffer's an' unbelievers. Aw tell yo' th' little man's getten th' reight end o' th' stick an' owd Chew at th' church isn't fit to fasten th' latchet o' his shoes, as th' Book says: an' if tha thinks contrariwise I'll feight thee for it big as tha art." "That's what they call muscular Christianity," I said. "An' a very good sort, too," quoth Jack. Anyhow a great change had undoubtedly come over the man, and none of us was surprised when he broached to my father and mother his schemes for establishing himself in life. "It's about time, Mrs. Bamforth, aw settled dahn. Aw've had mi fling an' sown mi wild oats, an' nah it's time aw turned mi hand to a reg'lar job." "Yo' should get wed," said my mother, very promptly. "Would yo' reilly advise me so, maam?" asked Jack. "Indeed aw should an' th' sooner the better." "Aw dunnot see as how I can afford." "Oh, fiddlesticks, what 'll keep one 'll keep two, an' God never sends mouths but he sends meat." "That's cheering anyhow. But don't yo' think awm too old, Mrs. Bamforth?" "An' what age may yo' be, if aw may make so bold?" "Well yo' see awm noan rightly sure. But put it at forty-two or three, an' a gamey leg to boot."