For I give up goin’ to Eden Centre that day. Good land! I had talked too much—I am afraid it is a weakness with me—anyway, there wuzn’t any time.
We wuz a talkin’ on religion, and faith, and the power of prayer, etc., and he sez:
“I enjoy religion, but I have got too much confidence in God.”
Sez I, “You mean you lack confidence in God.”
“Yes, that is it, I lack confidence in God, for I find that when I pray to Him for anything, if I don’t get an answer to it to once I make other arraingments.”
And I thought as I wended my way home, “Oh, how much, how much is Samantha and the hull human race like Mary Johnson; we besiege the throne of grace for some boon heart longed for and dear, and if the Lord does not answer at once our impassioned pleadin’s, we make other arraingments.
But I am a eppisodin’.
When I got back from my walk I went into the kitchen to get some cool water to put some posies in I had picked by the way, and there sot old Aunt Clo’, and most imegiatly after my entrance she announced to me that Rosy, her granddaughter, had got a little boy, and that Dan, Maggie’s colored coachman, wuz the father of it.
Aunt Clo’ did not seem to be excited in any way about it; she simply told it as a bit of news, rather onpleasant than otherwise, as it necessitated more work on her part.
As for the immorality, the wrong-doing connected with it, she showed no signs of feelin’.