Then kneeling down, this representative of a despised and untutored race,
with a faith that triumphed gloriously over her abject surroundings,
poured forth her supplications, talking with the Lord as a man
talks with his friend, as it were face to face.

"O bressed Lord, dat's in de heaben and de earf and ebery whar;
you's heerd all de tings dat we's asked for. And you knows
all dat dese yer poor chillen wants dat dey hasn't axed for;
and if dere's any ob 'em here, dat doesn't dare to speak out loud,
and tell what dey does want, you can hear it jess as well,
ef it is way down deep buried up in de heart; and oh, bressed Lord,
do gib 'em de desires of de heart, 'less it's suffin dat'll hurt
'em, and den Lord don't gib it to 'em at all."

This was enough for our little Tidy. Her heart swelled,
and the great tears ran down her cheeks, as she thought instantly
of the one dear, cherished petition that she dared not utter,
but which was uppermost in her heart continually; and as the woman
pleaded with the Lord to hear and answer the desires of every
soul present, she held that want of hers up before Him as a cup
to be filled, and the Lord verily did fill it up to the brim.
A quiet, restful feeling took the place of the burning, eager anxiety
she had hitherto felt, and from that moment she was sure, yes,
SURE that she would have her wish, and some day be able to read.
Nothing had ever encouraged and strengthened her so much
as the earnest words and prayers of this Christian woman.
How thankful she always felt that she had been brought to the
prayer-meeting at Massa Bertram's that night.