Jim groaned and turned uneasily in his chair.  The old man saw that he had made a point and pursued it.

“Don’ you reckon now, Jim, ef you was a bettah man dat you wouldn’ suffah so?”

“I do’ know, I do’ know nuffin’ ’bout hit.”

“Now des’ look at me.  I ben a-trompin’ erlong in dis low groun’ o’ sorrer fu’ mo’ den seventy yeahs, an’ I hain’t got a ache ner a pain.  Nevah had no rheumatics in my life, an’ yere you is, a young man, in a mannah o’ speakin’, all twinged up wid rheumatics.  Now what dat p’int to?  Hit mean de Lawd tek keer o’ dem dat’s his’n.  Now Jim, you bettah come ovah on de Lawd’s side, an’ git erway f’om yo’ ebil doin’s.”

Jim groaned again, and lifted his swollen leg with an effort just as Brother Parker said, “Let us pray.”

The prayer itself was less effective than the request was just at that time for Jim was so stiff that it made him fairly howl with pain to get down on his knees.  The old man’s supplication was loud, deep, and diplomatic, and when they arose from their knees there were tears in Jim’s eyes, but whether from cramp or contrition it is not safe to say.  But a day or two after, the visit bore fruit in the appearance of Jim at meeting where he sat on one of the very last benches, his shoulders hunched, and his head bowed, unmistakable signs of the convicted sinner.

The usual term of mourning passed, and Jim was converted, much to Mandy’s joy, and Brother Parker’s delight.  The old man called early on his master after the meeting, and announced the success of his labors.  Stuart Mordaunt himself was no less pleased than the preacher.  He shook Parker warmly by the hand, patted him on the shoulder, and called him a “sly old fox.”  And then he took him to the cupboard, and gave him of his store of good tobacco, enough to last him for months.  Something else, too, he must have given him, for the old man came away from the cupboard grinning broadly, and ostentatiously wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Great work you’ve done, Parker, a great work.”

“Yes, yes, Mas’,” grinned the old man, “now ef Jim can des’ stan’ out his p’obation, hit’ll be montrous fine.”

“His probation!” exclaimed the master.

“Oh yes suh, yes suh, we has all de young convu’ts stan’ a p’obation o’ six months, fo’ we teks ’em reg’lar inter de chu’ch.  Now ef Jim will des’ stan’ strong in de faif—­”

“Parker,” said Mordaunt, “you’re an old wretch, and I’ve got a mind to take every bit of that tobacco away from you.  No.  I’ll tell you what I’ll do.”

He went back to the cupboard and got as much again as he had given Parker, and handed it to him saying,

“I think it will be better for all concerned if Jim’s probation only lasts two months.  Get him into the fold, Parker, get him into the fold!” And he shoved the ancient exhorter out of the door.

It grieved Jim that he could not go ’possum hunting on Sundays any more, but shortly after he got religion, his rheumatism seemed to take a turn for the better and he felt that the result was worth the sacrifice.  But as the pain decreased in his legs and arms, the longing for his old wicked pleasures became stronger and stronger upon him though Mandy thought that he was living out the period of his probation in the most exemplary manner, and inwardly rejoiced.