“Yes,” Blue assented. “But if I were you I wouldn’t bother any more—”
He was sorry it was out, for a look came over his brother’s face that he had never seen there before,—horror and anguish blended in one.
“No, I guess I’d keep on!” Blue quickly amended.
“Oh! would you?” It was like sunshine bursting from a storm cloud. “I want to—oh, how I want to! But I didn’t know. God says if we ask for anything He will give it to us, and why do you s’pose He doesn’t let me walk?”
“I do’ know,” sighed Blue. His knowledge did not extend to such deep problems.
“It seems awfully mean to give right up,” Doodles went on, “but,” his voice dropped mournfully, “I s’pose that doctor knows. Still, God could cure me if all the doctors in the world should say I couldn’t ever walk, couldn’t He?”
“I guess so,” answered Blue gloomily.
“And I can’t see why He doesn’t when I want to so much.”
Blue was silent. His thoughts just then would scarcely have helped matters.
“What do you think?”