"'He hath stripped me of my glory and taken the crown from my head.'
"'Have pity upon me, have pity upon me, O ye my friends; for the hand of God hath touched me.'
"Seems to me Job had forgot there about bein' happy when God correcteth. No—'twasn't him as said that, neither, 'twas one o' his friends—but tis true, for the Bible puts just the same in other parts too, don't it? Where it says:
"'The Lord is very pitiful, and of tender mercy.'
"Ain't that the place? Well, I'll look on here, now, an' see how soon Job gets up again from bein' in the depths. Why, sure!—
"'I know that my Redeemer liveth.'"
Job stopped short. Coming almost immediately after that desponding appeal for pity, it struck straight to his heart, with a glow of triumphant confidence.
"Why, I knows it too, don't I? I knows He lives. Poor weak old man that I be, a-doubting of His love. I knows He liveth, an' He loveth too, and 'll do the best as can be for me. I knows it all. Job Kippis, ye're an old fool, to go doubtin' your Lord, 'cause He's hid His Face from you, an' given you a taste o' trouble. What if He do? What if I goes to the work'us? Ain't there a heaven an' glory awaitin' me? I know my Redeemer liveth, that I do.
"'And that He shall stand at the latter day upon the earth.'"
Job read so far, and paused again, turning quickly to the twenty-fifth chapter of Matthew.
"Aye, there it all be. He'll stand on the earth, an' He'll sit on His throne too, and I'll stand before Him. And wouldn't I like to hear Him say to me, 'I was an hungered and ye gave Me meat; I was thirsty and ye gave Me drink; I was a stranger and ye took Me in.' An' if I falls down at sight of His glory, an' asks when, He'll say as how I did it unto Him, in doin' it for His sake to little Ailie. Sure I couldn't have been wrong in helpin' the poor stray lamb. Sure the Lord 'll not forsake old Job."