with no irreverence in his heart, called D'ri aside.
"D'ri," said he, "ye 've alwus been more proper-spoken than I hev. Say a word o' prayer?"
"Don't much b'lieve I could," said he, thoughtfully. "I hev been t' meeting but I hain't never been no great hand fer prayin'."
"’T wouldn't sound right nohow, fer me t' pray," said my father, "I got s' kind o' rough when I was in the army."
"’Fraid it 'll come a leetle unhandy fer me," said D'ri, with a look of embarrassment, "but I don't never shirk a tough job ef it hes t' be done."
Then he stepped forward, took off his faded hat, his brow wrinkling deep, and said, in a drawling preacher tone that had no sound of D'ri in it: "O God, tek care o' gran'ma. Help us t' go on careful, an' when we 're riled, help us t' keep er mouths shet. O God, help the ol' cart, an' the ex in pertic'lar. An' don't be noway hard on us. Amen."
