!
I'm glad I lived long enough to save life, _to save life_! I'm much
obliged to You for that! I wish there was something else I could do
for them.... Lord! I'd be willing to die if it would help them any. If
I thought I could do anything that way, toward sending them a frost--

"No," he added, "that ain't reasonable. A frost and a human life ain't
convertible coin. He don't do unreasonable things. May be I've lost
my head already. But I'd be glad to. That's all. I suppose I can
_ask_ You for a frost. _That's_ reason.

"Lord God of earth and heaven! that made the South and North, the
pestilence and destruction, the sick and well, the living and the
dead, have mercy on us miserable sinners! Have mercy on the folks that
pray to You, and on the folks that don't! Remember the old graves, and
the new ones, and the graves that are to be opened if this hellish
heat goes on, and send us a blessed frost, O Lord, _as an act of
humanity_! And if that ain't the way to speak to You, remember I
haven't been a praying man long enough to learn the language very
well,--and that I'm pretty sick,--but that I would be glad to die--to
give them--a great, white, holy frost. Lord, a frost! Lord, a cool,
white, clean frost, for these poor devils that have borne so much!"

At midnight of that Saturday he dozed and dreamed. He dreamed of what
he had thought while Scip was sick: of what it was like, to be holy;
and, sadly waking, thought of holy people--good women and honest men,
who had never done a deadly deed.

"I cannot be holy," thought Zerviah Hope; "but I can pray for frost."
So he tried to pray for frost. But by that time he had grown confused,
and his will wandered pitifully, and he saw strange sights in the
little hut. It was as if he were not alone. Yet no one had come in.
_She_ could not come at midnight. Strange--how strange! Who was that
who walked about the hut? Who stood and looked at him? Who leaned to
him? Who brooded over him? Who put arms beneath him? Who looked at
him, as those look who love the sick too much to shrink from them?

"I don't know You," said Zerviah, in a distinct voice. Presently he
smiled. "Yes, I guess I do. I see now. I'm not used to You. I never
saw You before. You are Him I've heered about--God's Son! God's Son,
You've taken a great deal of trouble to come here after me. Nobody
else came. You're the only one that has remembered me. You're very
good to me.

"... Yes, I remember. They made a prisoner