But to Parson Brown the greatest triumph occurred when Crupp--Crupp, the literalist, the hard-headed, the man who trusted in the arm of flesh, the man of action, he who slightingly received any suggestions of special thank-offerings of prayer for special services received--Crupp came to him by night--it reminded Parson Brown of Nicodemus--and exclaimed, “It’s no use, Parson; I’ve done my best on Frank Pughger, but he’s a goner if God don’t put in a special hand. I’ll turn him over to you, I guess.” CHAPTER XII. TWO SIDES OF A CLOUD. The holy hilarity which Father Baguss enjoyed on his way home, after having assisted in bringing Harry Wainright back, did not depart with the shades of night. The old man was out of bed at his usual hour, and he took his spiritual songs to the barn with him, to the astonishment of his mild-eyed cows and quick-eared horses; and when his drove of porkers demanded their morning meal with the vocal power peculiar to a chorus of swine, the old man defiantly jumped an occasional octave, and made the spiritual songs dominate over the physical. He seemed _so_ happy that his single hired man could not resist the temptation of asking for an increase of pay; but the sobriety to which this interruption and its consequent refusal reduced Father Baguss was of only temporary duration, and the broken strain was resumed with renewed energy. The ecstasy lasted into and through the old man’s matutinal repast, and manifested itself by an occasional hum through the good man’s nose, which did the duty ordinarily performed by a mouth which was now busied about other things; it caused Father Baguss to read a glorious psalm as he officiated at the family altar after breakfast; it made itself felt half way through the set prayer which the old farmer had delivered every morning for forty years; but it seemed suddenly to depart as its whilom possessor uttered the petition, “May we impart to others of the grace with which thou hast visited us so abundantly.” For the Tappelmines had come suddenly into Father Baguss’s mind, and as that receptacle was never particularly crowded, the Tappelmines made themselves very much at home there. The prayer having ended, the old man loitered about the house instead of going directly to the “clearing,” in which he had been getting out some oak fence-rails; he stared out of the window, walked up and down the kitchen with his hands in his pockets, lit a pipe, relit it half a dozen times at two minute intervals, sighed, groaned, and at length strode across the room like a bandit coming upon the boards of a theater, seized his hat, and started for the Tappelmine domicile.