"No, Isrul." "But I tell you what you _is_ hearn 'em preach about. You hearn 'em preach about _watchin'_ an' _prayin'_." "Dat 's so, Isrul, but yit'n still, you know de scripture say 'Hope referred meketh de heart sick.' You ricollec' dat, don't you?" "Yas, but dat 's a side-track. Dat ain't got nothin' to do wid answer to prayer. Dat 's jes to give comfort to weary souls, when de waitin'-time is long; dat 's all. Dey may git sick at heart--jes' waitin'." "You right, Isrul." "Well, an' arter watchin' an' prayin', dey 's one mo' thing needful. An' dat 's _faith_. "Ef we _watches_ for Marse Harol' to come, an' _prays_ for 'im to come, an' don't _trus'_, you reckon Gord gwine to bother wid us?" "I _tries_ to trus', Isrul, an' mos' days I does look for Marse Harol'. Many 's de time I done taken Blossom by de hand an' walked along de levee an' looked down in de Ca'ollton gyarden while de ban' played, an' jes fairly scroochinized my ol' eyes out, hopin' to reconnize 'im in de dance. I'm dat big a fool in faith--I sho' is. An' I tries de best I kin to keep my faith warm, so de good Lord 'll see it glowin' like a live coal in my heart an' he 'll 'member hisse'f about de chile an' sen' 'er daddy home, _sen' 'er daddy home_! My Gord, I say, SEN' 'ER DADDY HOME! I tries continu'sly, Isrul." "You must n't talk about tryin', Hannah. You mus' jes b'lieve it, same as a little chile--same like you see it; an' den you does see it. An' when you git along so fur dat you _sees_ wid de neye o' faith, Gord 'll sho' mek yo' faith good. Ef faith kin h'ist a mountain an' shove it along, hit can fetch a man home whar he b'longs; an' hit 'll do it, too." "Isrul!" "What is it, Hannah?" "Gord ain't nuver _promised_ to sen' Marse Harol' home, as I knows on." "He's promised to answer de prayer o' faith, ain't He?" "Yas, Isrul, dat 's so. Pray Him to strenken my faith, ol' man. You stays so much on de water wid de sky in yo' eyes, whilst I works 'mongst de woodpiles, so close to de yearth--seem like maybe you mought git nigher to Gord 'n what I'm enabled to do. Pickin' up chips, hit 's lowly work an' hit keeps yo' face down, an'--" "Don't say dat, ol' 'oman! Use yo' fo'sight an' 'stid o' you seein' _chips_ you'll see _kindlin'-wood_. Dat what dey _is_. Dey 'll lead yo' heart upward dat-a-way. Heap o' folks don't see nothin' but money in de river--money an' mud; an' dey don't know it's a merror sometimes, full o' stars an' glory. I done read Gord's rainbow promises on de face o' dat muddy river more 'n once-t, when I lifted out my swimp-nets on a still mornin' whilst de sun an' de mist consulted together to show a mericle to a ol' dim-eyed nigger." "You sho' does help me when you 'splains it all out dat-a-way, Isrul. Pray like a gordly man, ol' pardner, an' yo' ol' 'oman she gwine talk faith strong as she kin--widout turnin' hycoprite."