“Because God A’mighty can’t give us everything to oncet. Didn’t I say He told me that Hisself? We ain’t fit to receive more’n a little at a time, just like babies. That’s another tip as Beady give me. And Mr. Christian he p’inted out to me oncet that wait is one of the frequentest words in the Bible. See here! Beady writ this for me.” Fumbling in an inside pocket, he drew forth a carefully folded bit of paper, saying, as he did so: “It was one of the times when I was awful low in my mind because you was away. I don’t ’old with them low fellas at the Down and Out—not as a reg’lar thing, I don’t—but now and then when I just couldn’t seem to get along without you I’d go down to one of the meetin’s. Then oncet Beady sits beside me and begins a-kiddin’ o’ me, callin’ me old son and everything like that. But by ’n’ by he sees I wasn’t in no such humor, and we starts in to talk serious-like. And then—well, I don’t ’ardly know ’ow I come to let it out—but Beady he sees just ’ow it was with me, and he bucks me up and writes me this. He ain’t as bad as you’d think he’d be, that Beady. It’s good words out of the Bible, and there’s a reg’lar tip in ’em.” The shaky hands unfolded the bit of foolscap on which was scrawled in a laborious script: “Wait on the Lord; wait, I say, on the Lord.” Beneath this counsel from one psalm were the verses from another: “I waited patiently for the Lord; and he inclined unto me, and heard my cry. He brought me up also out of an horrible pit, out of the miry clay, and set my feet upon a rock, and established my goings.” I suppose you will call my impulse by some modern psychological name, and for aught I know you may be right. But the words were not without their effect on me. They came to me with the mystery of a message emanating from the days before Time, and from spheres which have no need of the sun to rise or of the moon to give brightness or of the light of any candle. That it was carried to me by this tottering old man whom I had known in such different conditions only added to the awe. I struggled to feet that were as shaky as Lovey’s hands, carried my little white ticket to the bookkeeper, paid for my drink, which I had left untouched, and flinging an “All right, Lovey; I’m your man!” to him, hobbled out into the lobby of the hotel. My immediate sensation was that which you have known when the black cloud of troubles that enveloped you on waking has been instantly dispelled on your getting out of bed. The troubles may still be there; but you know your competence to live and work and deal with them. What I felt chiefly, I think, was that the old temptation would never master me again. I had been face to face with it, and hadn’t submitted to its spell. Something had been healed in me; something had been outgrown. A simple old man with no eloquence but that of his affection had led me as another might be led by a child.