ffect, and it was delightful to see how he
enjoyed it all. And the singing made his swarthy features glow with
pleasure, though he rarely joined in it, having some misgiving as to the
melody of his voice.

The truths of the gospel took strong hold of Jack's mind, and his
inquiries indicated a deep interest in the matter of religion. I was
therefore not surprised when, during a protracted-meeting in the town,
Jack became one of the converts; but there was surprise and delight
among the brethren at the class-meeting when Jack rose in his place and
told what great thing the Lord had done for him, dwelling with special
emphasis on the words, "I am happy, because I know Jesus takes my sins
away--I know he takes my sins away." His voice melted into softness,
and a tear trickled down his cheek as he spoke; and when Dan Duncan, the
leader, crossed over the room and grasped his hand in a burst of joy,
there was a glad chorus of rejoicing Methodists over Jack White, the
Piute convert.

Jack never missed a service at the church, and in the social-meetings he
never failed to tell the story of his newborn joy and hope, and always
with thrilling effect, as he repeated with trembling voice, "I am happy,
because I know Jesus takes my sins away." Sin was a reality with Jack,
and the pardon of sin the most wonderful of all facts. He never tired of
telling it; it opened a new world to him, a world of light and joy. Jack
White in the class-meeting or prayer-meeting, with beaming face, and
moistened eyes, and softened voice, telling of the love of Jesus, seemed
almost of a different race from the wretched Piutes of the Sierras and
sagebrush.

Jack's baptism was a great event. It was by immersion, the first baptism
of the kind I ever performed--and almost the last. Jack had been talked
to on the subject by some zealous brethren of another "persuasion," who
magnified that mode, and though he was willing to do as I advised in the
matter, he was evidently a little inclined to the more spectacular way
of receiving the ordinance. Mrs. White suggested that it might save
future trouble, and "spike a gun." So Jack, with four others, was taken
down to Santa Rosa Creek, that went rippling and sparkling along the
southern edge of the town, and duly baptized in the name of the Father,
and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. A great crowd covered the bridge
just below, and the banks of the stream; and when Wesley Mock, the Asaph
of Santa Rosa Methodism