fare is big and the shop is without a assistant. Weep until I am sore
all over I shall in Capel Shirland Road. When did the doctor give you
up?"

"He's a donkey. He doesn't know nothing. Here he is once per day and
charging for it. And he only brings his repairs to me."

"The largest charge will be to take you to your blessed home," said
Silas. "The railway need a lot of money for to carry a corpse. I feel
quite sorrowful. In Heaven you'll remember that I was at your deathbed."

John did not answer.

"Well-well," said Silas, whispering loudly, "making his peace with the
Big Man he is"; and he went away, moaning a funereal hymn tune.

John thought over his plight and was distressed, and he spoke to God in
Welsh: "Not fitting that you leave the daughter fach alone. Short in
her leg you made her. There's a set-back. Her mother perished; and did I
complain? An orphan will the pitiful wench be. Who will care for the
shop? And the repairing workman? Steal the leather he will. A fuss will
be about shop Richmond. Paid have I the rent for one year in advance.
Serious will the loss be. Be not of two thinks. Send Lisha to breathe
breathings into my inside--in the belly where the heart is. Forgive me
that I go to the Capel English. Go there I do for the trade. Generous am
I in the collections. Ask the preacher. Take some one else to sit in my
chair in the Palace. Amen. Amen and amen." In his misery he sobbed, and
he would not speak to Ann nor heed her questionings. At the cold of dawn
he thought that Death was creeping down to him, and he screamed: "Allow
me to live for a year--two years--and a grand communion set will I give