I only hope it will last; he needed it as bad as any
one I know of."
"It will last," Tip said, speaking positively. "God will look out
for that."
Then he waited a little before he spoke again--but he had been praying
for his father long enough and earnestly enough to feel bold:
"I thought, last night, that you must have been pretty good friends
once," he said presently, "for he most broke down when he was praying for
you, and the tears just blinded him."
Mr. Lewis turned himself on his pillow, and looked steadily at his son.
"Did Mr. Bailey pray for _me_?" he asked at last.
"Yes, he did; and he prayed as if he meant it."
"How came he to?"
"Why, I asked 'em to--all the folks in meeting, you know. I wanted you to
be a Christian, and prayed for you, and then I asked them if they'd pray,
and Mr. Bailey got right up. You don't mind that, do you, father? All the
folks down there ask us to pray for their friends."
"_No_," answered Mr. Lewis at last, speaking slowly, "I don't know that I
do. I need praying for, I suppose, if anybody does.
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