I'm going where I
can't be prayed for, pretty fast, I guess."
Tip had no answer to make to that.
"So you prayed for me too, did you?" his father asked presently.
"Yes, and I do every day, father; I _do_ want you to know Jesus."
A long silence followed, and then the sick man spoke again:
"Well, Tip, I'm glad that you've got right, gladder than I can tell you.
My father was a good man, and tried to make me do what was right; but I
went all wrong, wasted my whole life, and brought up my children to do so
too; but you're getting on without my help, and I'm glad you'll grow up
to be a good man, and be a comfort to your mother when I'm gone. But I
don't know that you need ask folks to pray for me; it's too late,--I've
gone too far to get back."
Tip's bold, prompt manner did not forsake him now; he answered quickly,--
"Father, I don't believe any such thing. God doesn't say anything about
it's being too late; and He says if we want anything very much, and pray
for it, and it's good to have, He'll give it to us; and I'm bound to
believe Him.
Pages:
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169