Yet--pity my poor human
weakness--I do ask it. Or if Thou decreest otherwise, then take me also,
O God, for I can bear no more. Four children gone! I can bear no more, O
God."
He sobbed again and wiped away another tear, then muttered:
"My selfishness, always my selfishness! With six remaining to be looked
after, that is counting Barbara if she still lives, I dare to ask to
be relieved of the burdens of the flesh! Pitiful Christ, visit not my
wickedness on me or on others, and O Thou that didst raise the daughter
of Jairus, save my sweet Barbara and comfort the heart of poor Thomas. I
will have faith. I _will_ have faith."
He thrust his hat upon his head, pulling it down over his ears because
of the rough wind, and walked forward quite jauntily for a few yards.
"What a comfort these new boots are," he said. "If I had stepped into
that pool with the old ones my left foot would be wet through now. Let
me thank God for these new boots. Oh! how can I, when I remember that
the price of them should have been spent in milk for the poor baby? If
I were really a Christian I ought to take them off and walk barefoot,
as the old pilgrims used to do. They say it is healthy, and I tried
to think so because it is cheap, though I am sure that this was
the beginning of poor little Cicely's last illness.
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