"I want to--I want to!" sobbed Kitty; "I would if I knew how."

Tip's heart gave a bound of joy--a surprised bound, too; he had not expected it so soon.

"It's easy, Kitty, it is, truly, if you only just ask G.o.d to do it. You see He can hear every word you say; He hears you now, but He wants you to ask Him about it. Say, Kitty, I'll go off and leave you,--I'll go where I can't see nor hear you,--then you kneel down and tell Jesus about it, and He'll help you."

"Stop!" said Kitty, as Tip was turning away; "wait! I don't know what to say."

"Why, just _tell_ Him, just as you did me, and ask Him to help you. You see, Kitty, you can't do a thing without that; He's got to look after you every single minute, or it's nothing at all."

Tip went away, and Kitty was left alone,--alone in the spot where her brother had first found the Saviour. She felt very strangely; she had been left there alone to offer her first prayer.

Kitty had never been taught to kneel down by her bedside every evening, and repeat "Our Father;" it was all new and strange to her. She sat still a long time, with the sober look deepening on her face. At last she got down on her knees and rested her little hard hands on the hard snow which covered Johnny's bed, and she said, "Jesus, I want to be what Tip says. I want to love you if you'll let me. n.o.body loves me, I guess. Tip says you'll help me all the time. If you will, I'll try."

After she had said this, slowly and thoughtfully, stopping long between each sentence, she didn't feel like rising up; she wanted to say more, so she repeated it, adding, "Tip says I must be good. I can't be good, but I'll try."

Over and over was the simple, earnest prayer repeated.

Tip did not go back to Johnny's grave; he took a side road down through the edge of the grove, and so went home; and when he reached home, he went up to his attic room, and knelt down and prayed for Kitty as only those _can_ pray who have been working as well as asking for what they want.

Kitty was stirring the pudding for supper when he saw her again,--stirring away hard at the heavy ma.s.s, which grew thicker and harder to stir every moment. He went over to her.

"Kitty, let me do this;" and she gave up the pudding-stick. Tip stirred away.

By and by she leaned over the kettle to put in some salt, and as she sprinkled it around she caught his eager, longing look. She nodded her head. "I guess He heard," she said softly.

"I _know_ He did," Tip answered, his eyes very blight; in his heart he sang "_Glory!_" And the angels in heaven sang for joy; for that night there had been laid aside a white robe and a crown of gold for Kitty Lewis.

CHAPTER XVI.

"Whosoever therefore shall confess Me before men, him will I confess also before My Father which is in heaven."

Tip was very undecided what to do. He went out on the steps and looked about him in the moonlight; then he came in and took a long look out of the window. At last the question, whatever it was, seemed to be settled.

He turned with a resolute air to Kitty who was washing the tea-dishes.

"Kitty, don't you want to go to prayer-meeting up at the church?"

Kitty dropped her cup back into the dish-pan and stood looking at him, a good deal surprised. At last she said,--

"I'd like to, Tip, but I don't look decent to go anywhere. I've only this dress and my old hood."

"I wouldn't mind that," said Tip. "I've only this awful old jacket either, but I mean to go. Hurry up the dishes, and let's go."

"Well," said Kitty at last, "I _will_; but what will mother say?"

"I'll fix that." And Tip stepped softly into the bedroom. "Are you better to-night, father?"

"Not much better, I guess. How's arithmetic to-day?"

"First-rate; Mr. Burrows said I was getting ahead fast. Mother, may Kitty go out with me to-night? I'm going up to the church to prayer-meeting."

Mrs. Lewis turned from the basket where she had been hunting long, and as yet in vain, for a piece of flannel, and bent a searching bewildered look on her son.

"I don't care," she said at last; "she can go if she likes; but I doubt if she will."

She _did_, however; in ten minutes more the two were walking along the snowy path. Kitty was sober. "Tip," she said presently, "don't you never get real awful _mad_, so mad that you feel as if you'd choke if you couldn't speak right out at somebody?"

"Well, no," said Tip, "not often. Yes, I do too; I get mad at Bob Turner sometimes, mad enough to pitch him into a snow-bank; but it don't last long."

"Well, mine does," said Kitty. "I begin in the morning; something makes me cross, and I keep on getting crosser and crosser every minute, till it seems as if I should fly. Do you suppose I'll always do just so?"

"No," answered Tip positively, "I _don't_. You keep on trying a little bit harder every day, and by and by you'll find that you don't get cross more than half as easy as you used to. I know it will be so, because I've tried it in other things: when I first began to behave myself in school, it was the _hardest_ work--my! You can think how I wanted to whisper, and things kept happening all the time to make me laugh, but I just kept trying, and now I hardly ever think of whispering. Kitty, does mother know?"

"No," said Kitty, "she don't."

"If I were you, I'd tell her."

"Oh, Tip, I can't! She never looks at me without scolding me; I can't talk to her about this."

"Yes, you can; I'd surely do it if I were you. It will be a great deal easier to try hard if mother knows you are trying."

They were almost at the church door.

"Kitty," said Tip suddenly, "let's pray for father to-night. I've been praying for him this long time; you help me."

Step by step, G.o.d was leading Tip Lewis in the narrow way. No sooner was he seated in the bright, warm little room, and had listened to Mr.

Holbrook's earnest prayer, that every Christian there might do something for Christ that night, than the struggle began: what ought he to do for Christ? People all around him were, one after another, offering prayer or saying a few words. Ought he to? Could he? Oh, he couldn't! Who would want to listen to him? It wouldn't do any good. There was Mr. Burrows right in front of him; he would be ashamed of him, perhaps. Yes, but then, ought he not to own his Saviour? Mr. Holbrook had spoken of the verse, "Whosoever will deny me before men," and had made the meaning very plain. Mr. Minturn had just prayed that no one there might be ashamed of Christ. The end of it all was, that Tip slipped off his seat down on his knees, and said, "Our Father which art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name.

Show me how to pray. I don't want to deny Christ. I want to love Him. I want the boys in our school, and my father, and everybody to love Him.

I'll try to work for Jesus. I'll try to work for Him. Help me every day, and forgive my sins for Jesus' sake. Amen."

Tip had never felt so near to G.o.d as he did when he arose from his knees.

Mr. Holbrook's voice trembled with feeling, when, soon after, he prayed for the young disciple who had early taken up his cross.

At the close of the meeting, the minister pressed his way through the little company of people who were waiting to speak with him.

"Good evening, all," he said hurriedly. "Excuse me to-night, brother," to Mr. Minturn, who would have stopped him any way; "I want to speak to some people before they get away from me;" and those who watched, saw him hurry on until he overtook Tip Lewis and his sister.

"Good evening, Edward. This is Kitty, I think. How do you do, my little girl? Edward, do you know such a Bible verse as this: 'I love the Lord, because He has heard my voice and my supplication'?"

"No, sir," answered Tip eagerly; "_is_ there such a verse?"

"Yes, somewhere in the Psalms you will find it. I don't remember just where. Can you feel the truth of it when you think of your sister?"

"Yes, sir, I _can_. G.o.d _did_ hear me."