"Jesus' blood and righteousness, Our covering is and glorious
dress." An' if we're sometimes too sore cast down under Thy
chastening--when the fire of Thy purification burns too ragin' hot--oh,
lay it not to our charge; forgive us our sin. Give us patience, heavenly
Father, that after all these sufferin's we may be made partakers of Thy
eternal blessedness. Amen.
MOTHER HILSE
[_Who has been bending forward, trying hard to hear._] What a beautiful
prayer you do say, father!
[_LUISE goes off to the washtub, GOTTLIEB to the room on the other
side of the passage._
OLD HILSE
Where's the little lass?
LUISE
She's gone to Peterswaldau, to Dreissiger's. She finished all she had to
wind last night.
OLD HILSE
[_Speaking very loud._] You'd like the wheel now, mother, eh?
MOTHER HILSE
Yes, father, I'm quite ready.
OLD HILSE
[_Setting it down before her._] I wish I could do the work for you.
MOTHER HILSE
An' what would be the good o' that, father? There would I be, sittin' not
knowin' what to do.
OLD HILSE
I'll give your fingers a wipe, then, so that they'll not grease the yarn.
[_He wipes her hands with a rag._
LUISE
[_At her tub.
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