thing, and he can
get whatever he likes.--Why didn't you pray for the money to build the
new cottage, Tommy?"

"Not so fast, William; a reasoning and scientific man like yourself
ought to stick close to the truth. Now, I never said as I could get
whatever I liked--though I might have said that too without being wrong;
for when I've found out clearly what's the Lord's will, I can say with
the old shepherd, `I can have what I please, because what pleases God
pleases me.' What I said was this: that I always got what I _needed_
when I prayed for a thing."

"Well, and where's the difference?"

"A vast deal of difference, William. I never pray for any of this
world's good things without putting in, `if God sees it best for me to
have it.' And then I know that, if it is really good for me, I shall
get it, and that'll be what I need; and if he sees as I'm better without
it, he'll give me contentment and peace, and often something much better
than what I asked for, and which I never expected, and that'll be giving
me in answer to prayer what I need."

"Then it seems to me," said the other, sneeringly, "that you may just as
well let the prayer alone altogether, for you don't really get what you
would like, and you can't be sure what it is you really want."

"Nay, not so, William Foster; my Bible says, `Be careful for nothing,
but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your
requests be made known unto God.' I just go and do this, and over and
over again I've got the thing I naturally liked; and it's only been now
and then, when God knew I should be better without the thing I fancied,
that he kept it back. But then I always got something better for me
instead, and the peace of God with it."

"And you call that getting answers to prayer from a heavenly Father?"
said Foster derisively.

"I do," was Bradly's reply. "My heavenly Father deals with me in the
same way as I used to deal with my children when they was little, and
for the same reason--because he loves me, and knows better than I do
what's good for me. When our Dick were a little thing, only just able
to walk, he comes one evening close up to the table while I was shaving,
and makes a snatch at my razor. I caught his little hand afore he could
get hold; and says I, `No, Dick, you mustn't have that; you'll hurt
yourself with it.' Not that there was any harm in the razor itself, but
it would have been harm to him, though he didn't know