she not asked and asked again the life of her child,
her last and only one, at the hands of Him whom she worshipped?

No, Lucy was not going to die. What she needed was country air and a
place to run about in. She had been housed up too much; these long
Northern winters were too severe for her, and that was what made her
so pinched and thin and weak. She must have air, and she should have
it.

"Po' little lammie," she said to the child, "Mammy's little gal boun'
to git well. Mammy gwine sen' huh out in de country when the spring
comes, whaih she kin roll in de grass an' pick flowers an' git good
an' strong. Don' baby want to go to de country? Don' baby want to see
de sun shine?" And the child had looked up at her with wide, bright
eyes, tossed her thin arms and moaned for reply.

"Nemmine, we gwine fool dat doctah. Some day we'll th'ow all his nassy
medicine 'way, an' he come in an' say: 'Whaih's all my medicine?' Den
we answeh up sma't like: 'We done th'owed it out. We don' need no
nassy medicine.' Den he look 'roun' an' say: 'Who dat I see runnin'
roun' de flo' hyeah, a-lookin' so fat?' an' you up an' say: 'Hit's me,
dat's who 'tis, mistah doctor man!' Den he go out an' slam de do'
behin' him. Ain' dat fine?"

But the child had closed her eyes, too weak even to listen. So her
mother kissed her little thin forehead and tiptoed out, sending in a
child from across the hall to take care of Lucy while she was at
work, for sick as the little one was she could not stay at home and
nurse her.

Hope grasps at a straw, and it was quite in keeping with the condition
of Martha's mind that she should open her ears and her heart when they
told her of the wonderful works of the faith-cure man. People had gone
to him on crutches, and he had touched or rubbed them and they had
come away whole. He had gone to the homes of the bed-ridden, and they
had risen up to bless him. It was so easy for her to believe it all.
The only religion she had ever known, the wild, emotional religion of
most of her race, put her credulity to stronger tests than that. Her
only question was, would such a man come to her humble room. But she
put away even this thought. He must come. She would make him. Already
she saw Lucy strong, and running about like a mouse, the joy of her
heart and the light of her eyes.

As soon as she could get time she went humbly to see the faith doctor,
and laid her case before him, hoping, fearing, trembling.

Yes, he wou