"I didn't mean to disturb your peace of mind, Sam; I asked only in order to learn how much foundation there was to your faith. They haven't them, you say. How will they get them?"
"I'll earn 'em," said the cobbler, with a savage dash of his awl which one of his fingers barely escaped.
"But suppose you can't; suppose trade slackens, or Larry takes a notion to a new helper."
"Then I'll beg, rather than have 'em suffer."
"And if folks won't give?"
"Then my folks'll have to go without."
"In spite of your new, loving, strong friend,—your Saviour? If He's all you take Him to be, aren't you sure He'll look out for your family?"
"Mr. Bartram," said the cobbler, resting for a moment, and straightening his weary back, "if I was in trouble,—been doin' somethin' wrong, for instance, an' was hauled into court, an' had you for my lawyer,—though of course I couldn't expect to have so smart a man,—I'd ort to believe that you'd do everythin' that could be done an' ort to be done, ortn't I?"
"Certainly, Sam, certainly," said the lawyer, with his customary professional look of assurance.
"But I wouldn't know all about it in advance, would I? Even if you was to tell me all you meant to do an' how you'd do it, I couldn't take it in. If I could, I'd be just as smart as you,—the idee!—an' wouldn't need you at all."