shall be made as grass, an’ forgetteth Jehovah thy Creator, that stretched forth the ‘eavens an’ laid the foundations of the earth?” an’ “I’ve covered thee with the shadder of me ‘and,” it ses; an’ “I will go before thee an’ make the rough places smooth;” an’ “’Itherto ye ‘ave asked nothin’ in my name; ask therefore that ye may receive, an’ yer joy may be made full."’ An’ ’e looked down on the floor as if ‘e was doin’ some ’ard thinkin’, pore young man, an’ ‘e ses, quite sudden an’ shaky, ’Lord, I believe, ‘elp thou my unbelief,’ an’ ’e ses it as if ’e was in trouble an’ didn’t know ’e’d spoke out loud.”

“Where—­how did you come upon your verses?” said Dart.  “How did you find them?”

“Ah,” triumphantly, “they was all answers—­they was the first answers I ever ’ad.  When I first come ‘ome an’ it seemed as if I was goin’ to be swep’ away in the dirt o’ the street—­one day when I was near drove wild with cold an’ ‘unger, I set down on the floor an’ I dragged the Bible to me an’ I ses:  ‘There ain’t nothin’ on earth or in ’ell as ’ll ’elp me.  I’m goin’ to do wot the lidy said—­mad or not.’  An’ I ’eld the book—­ an’ I ’eld my breath, too, ‘cos it was like waitin’ for the end o’ the world—­an’ after a bit I ’ears myself call out in a ’oller whisper, ’Speak, Lord, thy servant ’eareth.  Show me a ‘ope.’  An’ I was tremblin’ all over when I opened the book.  An’ there it was!  ’I will go before thee an’ make the rough places smooth, I will break in pieces the doors of brass and will cut in sunder the bars of iron.’  An’ I knowed it was a answer.”

“You—­knew—­it—­was an answer?”

“Wot else was it?” with a shining face.  “I’d arst for it, an’ there it was.  An’ in about a hour Glad come runnin’ up ‘ere, an’ she’d ’ad a bit o’ luck—­”

“‘T wasn’t nothin’ much,” Glad broke in deprecatingly, “on’y I’d got somethin’ to eat an’ a bit o’ fire.”

“An’ she made me go an’ ’ave a ‘earty meal, an’ set an’ warm meself.  An’ she was that cheerfle an’ full o’ pluck, she ’elped me to forget about the things that was makin’ me into a madwoman.  She was the answer—­ same as the book ’ad promised.  They comes in different wyes the answers does.  Bless yer, they don’t come in claps of thunder an’ streaks o’ lightenin’—­they just comes easy an’ natural—­so’s sometimes yer don’t think for a minit or two that they’re answers at all.  But it comes to yer in a bit an’ yer ‘eart stands still for joy.  An’ ever since then I just go to me book an’ arst.  P’raps,” her smile an illuminating thing, “me bein’ the low an’ pore in spirit at the beginnin’, an’ settin’ ‘ere all alone by me-self day in an’ day out, just thinkin’ it all over—­an’ arstin’—­an’ waitin’—­p’raps light was gave me ’cos I was in such a little place an’ in the dark.  But I ain’t pore in spirit now.  Lor’, no, yer can’t be when yer’ve on’y got to believe.  ‘An’ ’itherto ye ‘ave arst nothin’ in my name; arst therefore that ye may receive an’ yer joy be made full.’”