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"Him as wrote that hymn was Cardinal Newman. They say he wrote it at sea, maybe he wrote it in a storm like this. He was a Protestant, and was just turning into a Catholic. Didn't know whether he would or whether he wouldn't, loike. That's what he means when he says, 'Lead, Kindly Light. He was i' th' dark, and wanted lightin'. It was all dark, don't you see, just loike it is naow."
"It's the lightin' I'm talking about," her mother interrupted with that terrible logic that insists upon stating unpleasant truths, "And this ain't France, Mary V. You go on to bed. I'm going to turn out the lights." "And have him bump right into the house? A person would think you wanted Johnny to smash himself all to pieces again!
"Here's two burnt matches," he continued, picking them up. "An' they were loighted last night, too. See that, they're long, an' that means that they wasn't used for lightin' a pipe or a cigar jes' fer touchin' off a candle, that's all. I know they was loighted last night," he said, as though to convince himself, "fer they're fresh, an' ain't been tramped on.
He walked toward the point of the shed where he could observe the stars gleaming, and there he lighted some more matches, hoping he might see his machine. By the gleam of the little flame he noted that he was in a farmyard, and he was just puzzling his brain over the question as to what city or town he might be near when he heard a voice shouting: "Here, what you lightin' them matches for?
There are railroads for goin' like lightin' over level roads, and goin' up and down, and all sorts of street cars, a-goin' by horses, or mules, or lightnin', as the case might be. President Polk's old carriage looked jest like Grandpa Smedly's great-grandfather's buggy, that stands in this old stun carriage house, and has stood there for 100 years and more.
Here he'd been forced into doin' something nice for a party he had a grudge against, has discovered that Twombley-Crane ain't such a bad lot after all, and has been well paid for it besides, out of money left by his old enemy. "Rather a remarkable set of circumstances, eh, Shorty?" says he, tiltin' back comf'table in one of my front office chairs and lightin' up a fresh twenty-five-cent cigar.
So I didn't break it up till he began to read a long obituary piece about a child's death; about its being cut down like a flower by a lightin' stroke out of a cloudless sky, and about what a mysterious dispensation of Providence it wuz, etc., etc.
After testing every inch and every knot, he said: "Who starts first?" "I will try it," answered Thurstane. "Lightest first, I reckon," observed Glover. Sweeny looked at the precipice, skipped about the shelf uneasily, made a struggle with his fears, and asked, "Will ye let me down aisy?" "Jest 's easy 's rollin' off a log." "That's aisy enough. It's the lightin' that's har-rd.
Well for dog 'tis so. Too mean for Wyandotté to touch. What cap'in come for? Eh! Better tell chief get council widout lightin' fire." "As I see no use in concealing my plan from you, Wyandotté," Nick seemed pleased whenever this name was pronounced by others "I shall tell it you, freely. Still, you have more to relate to me. Why are you here? And how came you to discover us?"
Preachin', and singin', and ringin' bells, and openin' doors, and lightin' gas, and usherin' folks in, and etc., etc., etc. "And horse-cars and steam-cars have to run to and frow; conductors, and brakemen, and firemen, and engineers, and etc., etc. "And horses have to be harnessed and worked hard, and coachmen, and drivers, and men and wimmen have to work hard Sundays. Yes, indeed.
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