“Lawd, he’p us to pray,” responded Uncle Eben Adams. The silence that ensued was continually broken by the wavering wail of the mourners. Suddenly one of them, a stalwart young man, near the opening of the aisle, began to writhe and twist himself into every possible contortion, crying: “O Lawd, de devil’s a-ridin’ me; tek him off—tek him off!” “Tek him off, Lawd!” shouted the congregation. Then suddenly, without warning, the mourner rose straight up into the air, shouting, “Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah!” “He’s got it—he’s got it!” cried a dozen eager worshippers, leaping to their feet and crowding around the happy convert; “bless de Lawd, he’s got it.” A voice was raised, and soon the church was ringing with “Loose him and let him go, Let him shout to glory.” On went the man, shouting “Hallelujah,” shaking hands, and bounding over seats in the ecstasy of his bliss. His conversion kindled the flame of the meeting and set the fire going. You have seen corn in the popper when the first kernel springs up and flares open, how quickly the rest follow, keeping up the steady pop, pop, pop; well, just so it was after this first conversion. The mourners popped up quickly and steadily as the strength of the spiritual fire seemed to reach their swelling souls. One by one they left the bench on which, figuratively speaking, they may be said to have laid down their sins and proclaimed themselves possessors of religion; until, finally, there was but one left, and that one—Anner ’Lizer. She had ceased from her violent activity, and seemed perfectly passive now. The efforts of all were soon concentrated on her, and such stamping and clapping and singing was never heard before. Such cries of “Jes’ look up, sistah, don’t you see Him at yo’ side? Jes’ reach out yo’ han’ an’ tech de hem of His ga’ment. Jes’ listen, sistah, don’t you heah de angels singin’? don’t you heah de rumblin’ of de cha’iot wheels? He’s a-comin’, He’s a-comin’, He’s a-comin’!” But Anner ’Lizer was immovable; with her face lying against the hard bench, she moaned and prayed softly to herself. The congregation redoubled its exertions, but all to no effect, Anner ’Lizer wouldn’t “come thoo.” It was a strange case. Aunt Maria whispered to her bosom friend: “You min’ me, Sistah Hannah, dere’s sump’n’ on dat gal’s min’.” And Aunt Hannah answered: “I believe you.” Josephine, or more commonly Phiny, a former belle whom Anner ’Lizer’s superior charms had deposed, could not lose this opportunity to have a fling at her successful rival. Of course such cases of vindictiveness in women are rare, and Phiny was exceptional when she whispered to her fellow-servant, Lucy: “I reckon she’d git ’ligion if Sam Me’itt was heah to see her.” Lucy snickered, as in duty bound, and whispered back: “I wisht you’d heish.” Well, after all their singing, in spite of all their efforts, the time came for closing the meeting and Anner ’Lizer had not yet made a profession.