"He will, ma'am."
"But He does not. He only waits for us to love anything, before He robs us of it. So far from liking to see us happy, it would seem that He grudged us the poor crumbs we picked up of ourselves."
"Because they ain't good for us, Mistis."
"Why did He allow us to take them, then? why wait, until we have tasted and found them sweet, before He snatches them away?"
"I remember, Mistis, when you were a little thing, no higher than my knee, you were mightily taken with some red peppers growing in the garden. Your mother called you away from the bed, four or five times, and ordered you not to touch them. By and by I spied you running down the walk towards them, when you thought she didn't see you; and I was starting in a hurry to fetch you back, but she stopped me. 'No, Will!' says she, 'the punishment sin brings with it, is remembered longer than a hundred warnings. She will have a useful lesson.' I was loath to have you hurt; but I had to mind her. Your lesson was right hard; for your mouth and face and hands were swelled and burning for hours. But you didn't go near the pepper-bed again. And it seems to me, ma'am, that the Almighty treats us just so. We run crazy after things, that are like the red peppers,—pretty outside, but hot as fire when we get to playing with them. He doesn't push us towards them—He lets us alone; and we are mighty apt to run to Him, after we've got a fair taste. You didn't know but your mother would whip you for disobeying her; but you went straight to her when you felt the smart."
"This does not follow, of course, uncle Will. I have tasted some hot peppers since those days; and I cannot see any mercy or use in the lesson."
"Maybe you haven't asked an explanation, ma'am."
"From whom? from you?"
"No ma'am! From Him, unto whom belong the deep things of the Almighty. And if He doesn't show you their meaning now—He will, sometime. Children are often puzzled at their parents' dealings."