“Yes, I know,” said Grandpapa, his eyes still smiling as he watched the earnest face of his grandson.
“I asked for a black pony with a star on his forehead, and it came just exactly right. So, you see,” continued Sam, “that if I ask God every night to make Billy see, He will be sure to do it.”
“I hope so,” said Grandpapa.
“Why, it wouldn’t be half so hard as it was to hustle around to find just the kind of pony I asked for.”
“So I should think,” replied Grandpapa. “Black ponies with white stars on their foreheads are not so easy to find.”
“No,” said Sam, thoughtfully, “I know it. How long will it be before Christmas comes, Grandpapa?”
“Only a very short time,—about two weeks.”
“Well, I shall just tell God that He needn’t bother about that dog-cart,” said Sam, with his determined nod. “I shall tell Him that I would rather He would make Billy see.”
“That is a good idea, Sam,” said Grandpapa. “I know you would enjoy having poor Billy see as you do, much more than you would to have your dog-cart.”
“Yes,” replied Sam with a little sigh, for he had been looking forward for a long time to the pleasure of driving his pony in a dog-cart. “I can ride him just as well as not.”