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Here Josiah fairly throwed up his hands and sez, “Samantha Allen, this is goin’ too fur; I won’t set still and see irreverence goin’ on in my house. She must not be allowed to say such things. I speak as a deacon,” sez he, lookin’ some big. And it wuz to think on a dretful speech to make, tellin’ the Lord that mebby she would help Him and mebby she wouldn’t. It sounded strange and bad, and if I had hushed her up and rebuked her chillin’ly we should always thought she wuz irreverent and irreligious; but I felt that there wuz sunthin’ to the bottom of it more than she could with her small stock of language readily make known. And I gin my pardner a deep look as much as to say, “Keep still, Josiah Allen,” and then I bent over Delight and sez:
“What do you mean, Delight, by sayin’ mebby I won’t? That don’t sound jest right, sweetheart; you know you are talkin’ to the One Highest and Best, who made you and keeps you alive and who loves you better even than grandma duz. You must be very true and lovin’ and humble when you talk to Him.”
“Well, that is what I mean. If I told a wrong story to you it wouldn’t be so bad as if I told it to God, would it?”
“No, I don’t know that it would,” sez I candidly.
“Well, I wuz so ’fraid I would tell one to Him if I said right out I would help Him.”
And I sez gently, “Tell me all about it, Delight.”
“Well, yesterday mornin’ I took the biggest pear on the table, and papa said I wuz gettin’ to be a selfish little girl, and he felt bad about it. I told him I would tell the Lord all about it, and I guessed He would make me better. I said I would ask him special to, and I would help Him. But I forgot to ask Him last night, and I thought mebby I would forgit and do something jest as bad, and that would be tellin’ a wrong story to the Lord, wouldn’t it? And so I thought I would say p’rhaps I wouldn’t, so He wouldn’t be sprized if I forgot and wuzn’t jest good, don’t you see?”
“Yes,” sez I, “Grandma sees jest how it wuz,” and I cast a triumphant look onto my pardner, but he, too, wuz lookin’ perfectly happy and contented, and so Delight told her little prayers, “Our Father,” and “Now I lay me,” and ended up with:
“God bless Papa and Mama, and Grandma and Grandpa, and Uncle Tom and Aunt Maggie, and little Snow, and don’t forgit, please, please, please, dear Lord, to make me good, and don’t let me forgit it, and don’t let me forgit I want to be good when I git to playin’ with Jack and he plagues me, and bless Jack, amen.”