a quarter of an hour, Billy crept back to the
door, and lifting the latch quietly, whispered to his wife, "Is the
passon gone?"

"No, Billy," I said, "here I am. Come in out of the wet. I am so glad
you have come back."

"What d'yer want with me?" he inquired. "I want to talk to you about
your soul. I have been thinking much about you lately, Billy. They call
you a 'lost soul.'"

"What's that to you?"

"Ah, a great deal," I said, "because I have a message for lost people. I
am not a doctor for the body; my business is about the soul."

"I ain't so bad as all that yet," he replied.

"But you are bad enough, Billy--bad enough."

"Yes, indeed," interposed his wife.

"You hold yer tongue; you're no better."

I beckoned to her to be still, and went on to say, "You are bad enough,
Billy, for an old man. How old are you?"

"Up seventy years."

"Seventy years!" I repeated. "Well, now, that's a great age--that's the
age of man. Threescore years and ten! It is like giving you notice to
give up the keys of the old tabernacle. I wonder why God spares your
life? I am afraid you have been a cumberer of the ground all this time,
Billy. Do you know why the good Lord has spared you for so long?"

"I can't tell," he said, getting more and more impatient.

"Well, do you know, I think I can tell you. He is such a loving and
merciful God, He wants to have mercy on you. You could not have greater
proof of it, could you? You set a horribly bad example; you do nothing
but drink, and smoke, and swear. You have asked God to damn your soul
over and over again, and yet here you are still. Why is this?"

He did not answer, but seemed interested; so I went on to speak of the
forbearance of God towards him. I said, "Billy, do you know that I think
the Lord wants to have mercy on you? He wants to save you!" As he
listened, I went on to tell him that God loved him, and gave His Son to
die for him. Then I proceeded to speak of the wonderful patience and
long-suffering of God--a kind of crown upon His love; and what a shame
it was to sin against such love as this.

Poor Billy looked at me with tears in his eyes, and said, "You are a
dear man!"

"Dear man!" I answered. "What, then, is God, if I am 'dear' only for
telling you of His love? Ah, Billy, take and give your heart to God at
once. He is waiting for you. It is a shame to refuse such a God."

I knelt down and began to pray for him. He soon fell on his knees too,
and sobbed alo