“Can you tell me,” said Miss Marvin pleasantly, “why this is more strange or difficult to do than the other? Remember, if we really want that best kind of success, and ask God for it, we shall surely have it.”
Maybee and her dearest girl-friend, Nanny Carter, stood close by waiting, as usual, for Sue. Nanny was busily talking:—
“You haven’t seen my new bronze boots, an’ there’s my beautiful brown an’ gold stockings; won’t they look el-egant up there on the platform? and aren’t you glad we’re all to dress in white? Shall you wear a brown sash? it’s so fashionable, and which do you think’ll look best for me, pink or red flowers?”
“I don’t know,” said Maybee absently. “But isn’t it queer—about the stepping-stones, and helping folks? Don’t you wish we could?”
“Could what?” asked Nanny, who hadn’t heard a single word.
“Why, our verses,—make ’em stones, you know, to help folks along. Just s’pose, now, everybody’s verse was a really, truly stone, how thick they’d be, and p’raps lots more folks would go to heaven. I mean to ask Him.”
“Ask—who—what? You’re dreadfully poky to-day. I shall go and walk with Will,” said Nanny; and for once Maybee did not coax her back, she was so busy thinking.
She kept thinking, too, all the week. Never did she learn a piece so thoroughly, or take more pains to recite it loud and distinctly.
“It can’t help anybody ’thout they can hear it, course,” she said when Sue praised her. “An’ please don’t put on my bib-collar with the crinkly lace be-cause I can’t help thinking ’bout it—it’s so lov-er-ly, you know; an’ I want to think ’bout the folks who don’t love God. I’ve asked Him to make my verses help ’em. Have you?”
“Oh, dear, no! I forget all about it only when Miss Marvin is talking,” said Sue sorrowfully.