Jerry whistled.
"That is so, I suppose," he said thoughtfully; "and they don't make carpets out of boxes, nor with saws and hammers, do they? I don't know how we would manage that. There must be a way to do it, though. Let's put that one side among the things that have got to be thought about."
"And prayed about," said Nettie.
"Yes," he said, flashing a very bright look at her, "I thought that, but somehow I did not like to say it out, in so many words."
"I wonder why?" said Nettie thoughtfully; "I mean, I wonder why it is so much harder to say things of that kind than it is to speak about anything else?"
"Father used to say it was because people didn't get in the habit of talking about religion in a common sense way. They don't, you know; hardly anybody. At least hardly anybody that I know; around here, anyway. Now my father speaks of those things just as easy as he does of anything."
"So does Auntie Marshall; but I used to notice that not many people did. Your father must be a good man."
"There never was a better one!"
Notwithstanding Jerry said all this with tremendous energy, his voice trembled a little, and there came one of those dashes of feeling over him which made him think that he must drop everything and go to that dear father right away.
"When he comes after you and takes you away, what will I do?"