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threes　near　the　horses；　stamping　their　feet　and　smoking　pipes　andtalking。　I　summer　he　had　seen　people　riding　in　these　carriages；　looking　like　people　out　of　books；　orout　of　movies　in　which　everyone　wore　old…fashioned　clothes　and　rushed　at　nightfall　over　frozenroad；　hotly　pursued　by　their　enemies　who　wanted　to　carry　them　back　to　death。　‘Look　back；　lookback；’　had　cried　a　beautiful　woman　with　long　blonde　curls；　‘and　see　if　we　are　pursued！—and　shehad　e；　as　John　remembered；　to　a　terrible　end。　Now　he　stared　at　the　horses；　enormous　andbrown　and　patient；　stamping　every　now　and　again　a　polished　hoof；　and　he　thought　of　what　it　wouldbe　like　to　have　one　day　a　horse　of　his　own。　He　would　call　it　Rider；　and　mount　it　at　morning　whenthe　grass　was　wet；　and　from　the　horse’s　back　look　out　over　great；　sun…filled　fields；　his　own。　Behindhim　stood　his　house；　great　and　rambling　and　very　new；　and　in　the　kitchen　his　wife；　a　beautifulwoman；　made　breakfast；　and　the　smoke　rose　out　of　the　chimney；　melting　into　the　morning　air。
　　They　had　children；　who　called　him　Papa　and　for　whom　at　Christmas　he　bought　electric　trains。　Andhe　had　turkeys　and　cows　and　chickens　and　geese；　and　other　horses　besides　Rider。　They　had　a　closetfull　of　whisky　and　wine；　they　had　cars—but　what　church　did　they　go　to　and　what　would　he　teachhis　children　when　they　gathered　around　him　in　the　evening？　He　looked　straight　ahead；　down　FifthAvenue；　where　graceful　women　in　fur　coats　walked；　looking　into　the　windows　that　held　silkdresses；　and　watches；　and　rings。　What　church　did　they　go　to？　And　what　were　their　houses　like　inthe　evening　they　took　off　these　coats；　and　these　silk　dresses；　and　put　their　jewelery　in　a　box；　andleaned　back　in　soft　beds　to　think　for　a　moment　before　they　slept　of　the　day　gone　by？　Did　they　reada　verse　from　the　Bible　every　night　and　fall　on　their　knees　to　pray？　But　no；　for　their　thoughts　werenot　of　God；　and　their　way　was　not　God’s　way。　They　were　in　the　world；　and　of　the　world；　and　theirfeet　laid　hold　on　Hell。
　　Yet　in　school　some　of　them　had　been　nice　to　him；　and　it　was　hard　to　think　of　them　burningin　Hell　for　ever；　they　who　were　so　gracious　and　beautiful　now。　Once；　one　winter　when　he　had　beenvery　sick　with　a　heavy　cold　that　would　not　leave　him；　one　of　his　teachers　had　bought　him　a　bottleof　cod…liver　oil；　especially　prepared　with　heavy　syrup　so　that　it　did　not　taste　so　bad：　this　was　surelya　Christian　act。　His　mother　had　said　that　God　would　bless　that　woman；　and　he　had　got　better。　Theywere　kind—he　was　sire　that　they　were　kind—and　on　the　day　that　he　would　bring　himself　to　theirattention　they　would　surely　love　and　honor　him。　This　was　not　his　father’s　opinion。　His　father　saidthat　all　white　people　were　wicked；　and　that　God　was　going　to　bring　them　low。　He　said　that　whitepeople　were　never　to　be　trusted；　and　that　they　told　nothing　but　lies；　and　that　no　one　of　them　hadever　loved　a　nigger。　He；　John；　was　a　nigger；　and　he　would　find　out；　as　soon　as　he　got　a　little　older；how　evil　white　people　could　be。　John　had　read　about　the　things　white　people　did　to　colored　people；how；　in　the　South；　where　his　parents　came　from；　white　people　cheated　them　of　their　wages；　andburned　them；　and　shot　them—and　did　worse　things；　said　his　father；　which　the　tongue　could　notendure　to　utter。　He　had　read　about　colored　men　being　burned　in　the　electric　chair　for　things　theyhad　not　done；　how　in　riots　they　were　beaten　with　clubs；　how　they　were　tortured　in　prisons；　howthey　were　the　last　to　be　hired　and　the　first　to　be　fired。　Niggers　did　not　live　on　these　streets　whereJohn　now　walked；　it　was　forbidden；　and　yet　he　walked　here；　and　no　one　raised　a　hand　against　him。
　　But　did　he　dare　to　enter　this　shop　out　of　which　a　woman　now　casually　walked；　carrying　a　greatround　box？　Or　this　apartment　before　which　a　white　man　stood；　dressed　in　a　brilliant　uniform？　John　knew　he　did　not　dare；　not　to…day；　and　he　heard　his　father’s　laugh：　‘No；　nor　to…morrow　neither！’　Forhim　there　was　the　back　door；　and　the　dark　stairs；　and　the　kitchen　or　the　basement。　This　world　wasnot　for　him。　If　he　refused　to　believe；　and　wanted　to　break　his　neck　trying；　then　he　could　try　untilthe　sun　refused　to　shine；　they　would　never　let　him　enter。　In　John’s　mind　then；　the　people　and　theavenue　underwent　a　change；　and　he　feared　them　and　knew　that　one　day　he　could　hate　them　if　Goddid　not　change　his　heart。
　　He　left　Fifth　Avenue　and　walked　west　toward　the　movie　houses。　Here　on　42nd　Street　it　wasless　elegant　but　not　less　strange。　He　loved　this　street；　not　for　the　people　or　the　shops　but　for　thestone　lions　that　guarded　the　great　main　building　of　the　Public　Library；　a　building　filled　with　bookand　unimaginably　vast；　and　which　he　had　never　yet　dared　to　enter。　He　might；　he　knew；　for　he　was　amember　of　the　branch　in　Harlem　and　was　entitled　to　take　books　from　any　library　in　the　city。　But　hehad　never　gone　in　because　the　building　was　so　big　that　it　must　be　full　of　corridors　and　marblesteps；　in　the　maze　of　which　he　would　be　lost　and　never　find　the　book　he　wanted。　And　theneveryone；　all　the　white　people　inside；　would　know　that　he　was　not　used　to　great　buildings；　or　tomany　books；　and　they　would　look　at　him　wit　pity。　He　would　enter　on　another　day；　when　he　hadread　all　the　books　uptown；　an　achievement　that　would；　he　felt；　lend　him　the　poise　to　enter　anybuilding　in　the　world。　People；　mostly　men；　leaned　over　the　stone　parapets　of　the　raised　park　thatsurrounded　the　library；　or　walked　up　and　own　and　bent　to　drink　water　from　the　public　drinking…fountains。　Silver　pigeons　lighted　briefly　on　the　heads　of　the　lions　or　the　rims　of　fountains；　andstrutted　along　the　walks。　John　loitered　in　front　of　Woolworth’s；　staring　at　the　candy　display；　tryingto　decide　what　candy　to　buy—and　buying　one；　for　the　store　was　crowded　and　he　was　certain　thatthe　salesgirl　would　never　notice　him—and　before　a　vendor　of　artificial　flowers；　and　crossed　SixthAvenue　where　the　Automat　was；　and　the　parked　taxis；　and　the　shops；　which　he　would　not　look　atto…day；　that　displayed　in　their　windows　dirty　postcards　and　practical　jokes。　Beyond　Sixth　Avenuethe　movie　houses　began；　and　now　he　studied　the　stills　carefully；　trying　to　decide　which　of　all　thesetheaters　he　should　enter。　He　stopped　at　last　before　a　gigantic；　colored　poster　that　represented　awicked　woman；　half　undressed；　leaning　in　a　doorway；　apparently　quarreling　with　a　blond　man　whostared　wretchedly　into　the　street。　The　legend　above　their　heads　was：　‘There’s　a　fool　like　him　inevery　family—and　a　woman　next　door　to　take　him　over！’　He　decided　to　see　this；　for　he　feltidentified　with　the　blond　young　man；　the　fool　of　his　family；　and　he　wished　to　know　more　about　hisso　blatantly　unkind　fate。
　　And　so　he　stared　at　the　price　above　the　ticket…seller’s　window　and；　showing　her　his　coins；received　the　piece　of　paper　that　was　charged　with　the　power　to　open　doors。　having　once　decided　toenter；　he　did　not　look　back　at　the　street　again　for　fear　that　one　of　the　saints　might　be　passing　and；seeing　him；　might　cry　out　his　name　and　lay　hands　on　him　to　drag　him　back。　He　walked　veryquickly　across　the　carpeted　lobby；　looking　at　nothing；　and　pausing　only　to　see　his　ticket　torn；　halfof　it　thrown　into　a　silver　box　and　half　returned　to　him。　And　then　the　usherette　opened　the　doors　ofthis　dark　palace　and　with　a　flashlight　held　behind　her　took　him　to　his　seat。　Not　even　then；　havingpushed　past　a　wilderness　of　knees　and　feet　to　reach　his　designated　seat；　did　he　dare　to　breathe；　nor；out　of　a　last；　sick　hope　for　forgiveness；　did　he　look　at　the　screen。　He　stared　at　the　darkness　aroundhim；　and　at　the　profiles　that　gradually　emerged　from　this　gloom；　was　so　like　the　gloom　of　Hell。　Hewaited　for　this　darkness　to　be　shattered　by　the　light　of　the　second　ing；　for　the　ceiling　to　crackupward；　revealing；　for　every　eye　to　see；　the　chariots　of　fire　on　which　descended　a　wrathful　God　and　all　the　host　of　Heaven。　He　sank　far　down
Part　2　The　Prayer　Of　The　Saints
THE　PRAYER　OF　THE　SAINTSAnd　they　cried　with　a　loud　voice；saying；　How　long；　O　Lord；　holy　and　true；dost　thou　not　judge　and　avengeour　blood　on　them　that　dwell　on　the　earth1　FLORENCE’S　PRAYERLight　and　life　to　all　He　brings；Risen　with　healing　in　His　wings！
　　Florence　raised　her　voice　in　the　only　song　she　could　remember　that　her　mother　used　to　sing：
　　‘It’s　me；　it’s　me；　it’s　me；　oh；　Lord；　Standing　in　the　need　of　prayer。’
　　Gabriel　turned　to　stare　at　her；　in　astonished　triumph　that　his　sister　should　at　last　behumbled。　She　did　not　look　at　him。　Her　thoughts　were　all　on　God。　After　a　moment；　the　congregationand　the　piano　joined　her：
　　‘Not　my　father；　not　my　motherBut　it’s　me；　oh；　Lord。’
　　She　knew　that　Gabriel　rejoiced；　not　that　her　humility　might　lead　her　to　grace；　but　only　thatsome　private　anguish　had　brought　her　low：　her　songs　revealed　that　she　was　suffering；　and　this　herbrother　was　glad　to　see。　This　had　always　been　his　spirit。　Nothing　had　ever　changed　it；　nothing　everwould。　For　a　moment　her　pride　stood　up；　the　resolution　that　had　brought　her　to　this　place　to…nightfaltered；　and　she　felt　that　if　Gabriel　was　the　Lord’s　anointed；　she　would　rather　die　and　endure　Hellfor　all　eternity　than　bow　before　His　altar。　But　she　strangled　her　pride；　rising　to　stand　with　them　inthe　holy　space　before　the　altar；　and　still　singing：
　　‘Standing　in　the　need　of　prayer。’
　　Kneeling　as　she　had　not　knelt　for　many　years；　and　in　this　pany　before　the　altar；　shegained　again　from　the　song　the　meaning　it　had　held　for　her　mother；　and　gained　a　new　meaning　forherself。　As　a　child；　the　song　had　made　her　see　a　woman；　dressed　in　black；　standing　in　infinite　mistsalone；　waiting　for　the　form　of　the　Son　of　God　to　lead　her　through　the　white　fire。　This　woman　nowreturned　to　her；　more　desolate；　it　was　herself；　not　knowing　where　to　put　her　foot；　she　waitedtrembling；　for　the　mists　to　be　parted　that　she　might　walk　in　peace。　That　long　road；　her　life；　whichshe　had　followed　for　sixty　groaning　years；　had　led　her　at　last　to　her　mother’s　starting…place；　thealtar　of　the　Lord。　For　her　feet　stood　on　the　edge　of　that　river　which　her　mother；　rejoicing；　hadcrossed　over。　And　would　the　Lord　now　reach　out　His　hand　to　Florence　and　heal　and　save？　But；going　down　before　the　scarlet　cloth　at　the　foot　of　the　golden　cross；　it　came　to　her　that　she　hadforgotten　how　to　pray。
　　Her　mother　has　taught　her　that　the　way　to　pray　was　to　forget　everything　and　everyone　butJesus；　to　pour　out　of　the　heart；　like　water　from　a　bucket；　all　evil　thoughts；　all　thoughts　of　self；　allmalice　for　one’s　enemies；　to　e　boldly；　and　yet　more　humbly　than　the　little　child；　before　theGiver　of　all　good　things。　Yet；　in　Florence’s　heart　to…night　hatred　and　bitterness　weighed　likegranite；　pride　refused　to　abdicate　from　the　throne　it　had　held　so　long。　Neither　love　nor　humility　hadled　her　to　the　altar；　but　only　fear。　And　God　did　not　hear　the　prayers　of　the　fearful；　for　the　hearts　ofthe　fearful　held　no　belief。　Such　prayers　could　rise　no　higher　that　the　lips　that　uttered　them。
　　Around　her　she　heard　the　saints’　voices；　a　steady；　charged　murmur；　with　now　and　again　thename　of　Jesus　rising　above；　sometimes　like　the　swift　rising　of　a　bird　into　the　air　of　a　sunny　day；　sometimes　like　the　slow　rising　of　the　mist　from　swamp　ground。　Was　this　the　way　to　pray？　In　thechurch　that　she　had　joined　when　she　first　came　North　one　knelt　before　the　altar　once　only；　in　thebeginning；　to　ask　for　forgiveness　of　sins；　and　this　acplished；　one　was　baptized　and　became　aChristian；　to　kneel　no　more　thereafter。　Even　if　the　Lord　should　lay　some　great　burden　on　one’sback—as　He　has　done；　but　never　so　heavy　a　burden　as　this　she　carried　now—one　prayed　in　silence。
　　It　was　indecent；　the　practice　of　mon　niggers　to　cry　aloud　at　the　foot　of　the　altar；　tears　streamingfor　all　the　world　to　see。　She　had　never　done　it；　not　even　as　a　girl　down　home　in　the　church　they　hadgone　to　in　those　days。　Now　perhaps　it　was　too　late；　and　the　Lord　would　suffer　her　to　die　in　thedarkness　in　which　she　had　lived　so　long。
　　In　the　olden　days　God　had　healed　His　children。　He　had　caused　the　blind　to　see；　the　lame　towalk；　and　He　had　raised　dead　men　from　the　grave。　But　Florence　remembered　one　phrase；　whichnow　she　muttered　against　the　knuckles　that　bruised　her　lips：　‘Lord；　help　my　unbelief。’
　　For　the　message　had　e　to　Florence　that　had　e　to　Hezekiah：　Set　thine　house　in　order；for　thou　shalt　die　and　not　l