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Every one of them idolaters goes poundin' back, as fast as ever he can with hobbles on, to confess his sins an' say his pray'rs at the shrine of that old gray mare. Even Jerry, whose cynicism should have saved him, pulls his picket-pin with the rest an', takin' Tom along, goes curvin' off. It ain't more than ten minutes, you can gamble! when James an' me is on their trails.
"It looks like Texas has been tellin' of a Mexican he sees lynched at Laredo one time, an' how a tender gent rings in some orisons before ever they swings him off. Texas objects to them pray'rs an' brands 'em as hypocrisies. As happens frequent for both is powerful debaters that a-way Dave Tutt locks horns with Texas, an' they both prances 'round oratorical at each other mighty entertainin'.
I jes kep' my mouth shet an' said my pray'rs fur all was in me. An' ez for swallerin' water I must 'a' tuk in half a bar'l. How we was kep' cl'ar of the rocks was a miracle, out an' out.
"'Now you gents onderstand, says Texas Thompson, 'I ain't sayin' a word about them pray'rs as mere supplications. I'm yere to state I regyards 'em as excellent, an' thar's gents at that time present who's experts in sech appeals an' who knows what prayin' is, who allows that for fervency, bottom an' speed, they shorely makes the record for what you might call off-hand pray'rs in Southern Texas.
"From Rubygill Abbey," said the friar, "whither I never return: For I must seek some hermit cell, Where I alone my beads may tell, And on the wight who that way fares Levy a toll for my ghostly pray'rs, Levy a toll, levy a toll, Levy a toll for my ghostly pray'rs." "What is the matter then, father?" said Matilda.
The gen'rous Flock reward their Pastor's care, His Pray'rs, his Wants, his Happiness they share Retir'd from worldly Care, from Noise and Strife, In sacred Thoughts and Deeds, he spends his Life, To mo'drate Bounds, his Wishes he confines, All views of Grandeur, Pow'r and Wealth resigns, With Pomp and Pride can cheerfully dispense, Dead to the World, and empty Joys of Sense, The Symphony of heav'nly Song he hears, Celestial Concord vibrates on his Ears., Which emulates the Music of the Spheres The Band of active Youths and Virgins fan, Rank'd in due Order, by their Teacher's Care, The Sight of all Beholders gratify, Sweet to the Soul, and pleasing to the Eye But when their Voices found in Songs, of Praise, When they to God's high Throne their Anthems raise, By these harmonious Sounds, such Rapture's giv'n, Their loud Hosannas waft the Soul to Heav'n: The fourfold Parts in one bright Center meet, To form the blessed Harmony complete.
The priest sighed, and made some remarks about the dead man's intellectual brilliancy: "He had great learning." "Tell me, Father, with all your experience, do you understand life?" asked Pensée, abruptly. "Let me take refuge in a quotation 'Justice divine Mends not her slowest pace for pray'rs or cries. I can understand that at least," answered the priest.
"Lord hear the pray'rs and mournfull cries Of mine afflicted estate, And with thy Comforts chear my soul, Before it is too late. "My days consume away like Smoak Mine anguish is so great, My bones are not unlike a hearth Parched & dry with heat. "Such is my grief I little else Can do but sigh and groan. So wasted is my flesh I'm left Nothing but skin and bone.
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