Joe laughed rather hoarsely, and replied: “As you please, sir. Good night, Aggie. Mind you get to bed as fast as you can.”
When I returned from giving Agnes over to her parents, I made haste to change my clothes, and put on my warm dressing-gown. I may as well mention at once, that not one of us was the worse for our ducking. I then went up to Connie’s room.
“Here I am, you see, Connie, quite safe.”
“I’ve been lying listening to every blast of wind since you went out, papa. But all I could do was to trust in God.”
“Do you call that all, Connie? Believe me, there is more power in that than any human being knows the tenth part of yet. It is indeed all.”
I said no more then. I told my wife about it that night, but we were well into another month before I told Connie.
When I left her, I went to Joe’s room to see how he was, and found him having some gruel. I sat down on the edge of his bed, and said,
“Well, Joe, this is better than under water. I hope you won’t be the worse for it.”
“I don’t much care what comes of me, sir. It will be all over soon.”
“But you ought to care what comes of you, Joe. I will tell you why. You are an instrument out of which ought to come praise to God, and, therefore, you ought to care for the instrument.”