Isaac had long ago been “sanctified,” and had declared not only his sinless nature but had boldy proclaimed himself a prophet of the new dispensation and had finally fixed his name as “Isaac the Apostle,” which had been simplified by busy clerks in written form to Isaac A. Postle. Aunt Julie Ann had heard of his wonderful success in his sanctification meetings with misgivings, as the large majority of his converts were invariably among the sisters. She had finally dared to question the authenticity of his apostolic call. Her scepticism had aroused Isaac to a frenzy of religious enthusiasm. That the wife of his bosom should be the only voice to question his divine mission was proof positive that she had in some mysterious way become possessed of the devil--perhaps seven devils. He determined to cast them out--by moral suasion if possible--if not, by the main strength of his good right arm. He must set his own house in order lest the very source of his inspiration be poisoned by lack of faith. He was devoting this morning to the task when Alfred arrived. He had just finished a long and fervid explanation of the mystery of Sanctification. “Fur de las’ time I axes ye, ’oman, what sez ye ter de word er de Lawd?” Aunt Julie Ann banged the board with the iron and merely grunted: “Huh!” Isaac rose and repeated his question with rising wrath: “What sez ye ter de word er de Lawd?” “I ain’ heared de Lawd say nuttin yit!” “An’ why ain’t ye?” “Case you keep so much fuss I can’t hear nuttin’, Isaac Graham!” “Doan you call me dat name, you brazen sinner dat sets in de seat er de scornful! Is ye ready ter repent an’ sin no mo?” Isaac approached her threateningly and Alfred, watching with bulging eyes, clutched the stick he had picked up. “Tech me if ye dare--I bus’ yo head open wid dis flat-iron!” Isaac knew his duty now and determined to perform it without further ceremony. The anointed of the Lord had been threatened by the ungodly. He drew a seasoned hickory withe from a crack where he had hidden it and approached his sceptical spouse. Aunt Julie Ann began to whimper. “Put down dat flat-iron!” he sternly commanded. Alfred peering through the keyhole gasped in amazement as he saw her drop the iron heavily on the floor. Isaac raised his switch and began to whip her. Around and around she flew screaming, begging, pleading for mercy. But Isaac continued to lay on steadily. Alfred tried to rise and rush to the rescue but somehow he couldn’t move. To his own surprise the performance fascinated him. He sat peering with satisfaction. “Dat’s paying her back now fur leavin’ me fer dat low live rascal. Give it to her, old man! Give it to her! She sho’ deserves it!” At length Isaac paused, and eyed her steadily while he shook his switch with unction. “I axes ye now, does ye believe in de Sanctification er de Saints?” “Yes, Lawd, I sees it now!” she cried with fervour. “An’ thanks me fer showin’ ye de error er yo’ way?”