"I wish I _had_
been plowing corn."
The boy's eyes were gleaming. He was stepping from one foot to the other
as if the floor burned him.
"Gosh, we must saw wood!" he cried. "You go on and tell me. I been up
against a lot of things. Maybe I can think up something. Honest, maybe I
can!"
"No Mickey, there's nothing you or any one can do. A miracle is required
now, and miracles have ceased."
"Oh I don't know!" exclaimed Mickey. "Look how they been happening to me
and Lily right along. I can't see why one mightn't be performed for you
just as well. I wish you wouldn't waste so much time! I wish you hadn't
spent an hour fooling with what I was telling you; _that_ would keep. I
wish you'd give me a job, and let me get busy."
Douglas Bruce smiled forlornly.
"I'd gladly give you the job of saving me, my dear friend," he said, "but
the fact is I haven't a notion of how to go to work to achieve salvation."
"Is somebody else getting ahead of you?"
"Not that I know of! No I don't think so. That isn't the trouble," said
Douglas.
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