But his plan did not work. Day after day he had made excuses to drop
into the cobbler's shop and worry the ex-convict into a discussion, but
not once did he depart without a sense of defeat. As he said to
himself,--
"What can be done with a man who only believes, and won't argue or go
to the bottom of things? It's confoundedly ridiculous."
During his last visit, he said,--
"Sam, if the power you profess to believe in can really work such a
change as you think He has done in you, He ought to be able to do
almost anything else. Don't you think so?"
"That I do," said the cobbler, working away.
"You believe He has power to any extent, I suppose?"
"You're right again, Mr. Bartram."
"Of course you think he loves you dearly?"
"I'm ashamed to think it,--that any such bein' should love a
good-for-nothin' feller like me. But what else can I think, Mr.
Bartram, after all that's gone on in me, an' what He's said Himself?"
"Very well; then, if He is so powerful and cares so much for you, I
suppose He brings you more work and better prices than any one else in
your business?"
Sam did not reply to this at once, but after a while he said,--
"It amounts to the same thing: He makes me work harder than I ever
knowed how to do before. That brings me more money an' gives me a hope
of gettin' along better after a while.
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