“Mary,” he would say, when he had sat still and silent for a long time, and she had asked him how he felt, “Mary, ah’ve been i’ good cumpany. Judy’s been wi’ ma’ i’ spirit, an’ ah’ve seen aingels wi’ breet an’ wavin’ wings, an’ Jesus is allus wi’ ma’. He says, ‘Ah’ll cum ageean an’ receeave tha’ te myself,’ an’ ah says, ’Eaven seea, Lord Jesus, cum quickly.’ Ah sall be gannin’ sum neet, an’ when t’ sun’s settin’ wi’ you, it’ll be risin’ wi’ me, an’ it’ll be mornin’ an’ nivver a neet nae mair.” “Oh, Pete, mah lad,” he would say, “bud religion _is_ sweet. Thoo’s crossed yah sea, an’ ah’s just aboot te cross anuther, bud it’s a varry narro’ un’, an’ there isn’t as mitch ov a ripple as wad toss a chip, an’ as seean as ivver ah tutch it, it’ll splet, an’ ah sall gan through dryshod. An’ t’ other side, Pete! Ah gets a leeak at it noo an’ then, an’ ah feels as though ah can hear t’ music, an’ see t’ saints o’ God i’ their glory, an’ hear t’ waff o’ their wings. Prayse the Lord, deein’s nobbut like gannin’ oot o’ t’ kitchen inte t’ parlour, an’ ‘ah sall dwell i’ t’ hoose o’ the Lord for ivver.’” The old squire of Waverdale came to see him, during those last failing months, nearly every day. He was a capital listener. Seated by Adam’s side, he would hold the old man’s hand in his, and listen, with an occasional smile, exclamation or nod, by the hour, while the veteran talked of his religious history, gave his opinion on Scripture passages, or bore witness of the love and grace of God.