"Why yes, to be sure they do."
"Then I wish I knew where they looked for them," said he with a very big sigh indeed, "I've hunted an' hunted in all the attics, an' the cupboards, an' under hedges, an' in ditches, an' prayed, an' prayed, you know,—every night."
"Then, of course, you'll be answered, my Porges."
"Do you really s'pose I shall be answered? You see it's such an awful' long way for one small prayer to have to go,—from here to heaven. An' there's clouds that get in the way; an' I'm 'fraid my prayers aren't quite big, or heavy enough, an' get lost, an' blown away in the wind."
"No, my Porges," said Bellew, drawing his arm about the small disconsolate figure, "you may depend upon it that your prayers fly straight up into heaven, and that neither the clouds, nor the wind can come between, or blow them away. So just keep on praying, old chap, and when the time is ripe, they'll be answered, never fear."
"Answered?—Do you mean,—oh Uncle Porges!—do you mean—the Money Moon?" The small hand upon Bellew's arm, quivered, and his voice trembled with eagerness.
"Why yes, to be sure,—the Money Moon, my Porges,—it's bound to come, one of these fine nights."
"Ah!—but when,—oh! when will the Money Moon ever come?"
"Well, I can't be quite sure, but I rather fancy, from the look of things, my Porges, that it will be pretty soon."
"Oh, I do hope so!—for her sake, an' my sake. You see, she may go getting herself married to Mr. Cassilis, if something doesn't happen soon, an' I shouldn't like that, you know."