"I can't possibly go."
His strange reply was, "With God all things are possible."
The text fell upon her mind with force.
"Come," he said gently, and he motioned that he would shut the gate behind her.
"Not now; my shoes are not stout; I have no bonnet or shawl."
"Put thy kerchief over thy head and come, friend Susannah, for 'no man, putting his hand to the plough, and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of heaven.'"
At this he walked on, and she was forced to follow for a few steps to ask an explanation. She tied her kerchief over her head and the thick white dust covered her slender shoes.
"What do you want me to come for?" she asked.
He looked upon her, colouring again with the effort to express what was to him sacred. "It has been given to me to pray for thy soul. To-day, as I prayed, it was borne in upon me that thou shouldst be with me in the waters of baptism."
Susannah paused on the road, planting the heels of her shoes deeply in the dust. "I will not," she cried. "I will never believe in Joseph Smith."