"Not as I did - and you know it. I've been responsible for
many a boy's taking it up, though I didn't realize it.
Because I was athletic and in for sports with them, they
thought I was the whole thing. They laughed when I got mad
and ripped out a lot of language: they copied it. But I never
heard myself as others hear me till that night I let go at the
mother who'd ignorantly murdered her boy by disobeying orders.
On the way home that night I woke up - came to myself - I
don't know how. The stars were unusually bright, and I looked
up at them and thought of that child's soul going back to its
Maker . . . . and then thought of my curses following it and
coming to His ear."

A silence fell. When Burns broke it, it was in a voice deep
with feeling.

"The next words I sent up to that ear were in a different
shape. I think it was the first real prayer I'd ever said
since the little parrot prayers my mother taught me. That was
the first: it hasn't been the last. I don't suppose I say
much that would sound like the preacher's language, but Ches,
what I do believe is that - I get what I ask for. That's -
help to fight my temptations. And profanity isn't the only
one nor the toughest one to down."

Chester looked up. For a moment he forgot himself and his
wretchedness. "It's hard to believe it's you, Red - talking
like this."

"I know it must be hard, but it ought to be the more