"Visit your people," said God to the Saint, "and bring me their
prayers."
"Why should I be called?"
"It is my will. My Prophets have failed me, and if it is not done they
shall be destroyed."
David laughed. "From Hell comes a savior of the Prophets. In the middle
of my discourse at the Judgment Seat the Prophets stooped upon me. 'To
Hell with him,' they screamed."
"Perform faithfully," said the Lord, "and you shall remain in
Paradise."
"My Lord is gracious! I was a Prophet and the living believe that I am
with the saints. I will retire."
"Perform faithfully and you shall be of my Prophets."
Then God took away David's body and nailed it upon a wall, and He put
wings on the shoulders of his soul; and David darted through a cloud and
landed on earth, and having looked at the filthiness of the
Nonconformists in Wales he withdrew to London. But however actively he
tried he could not find a man of God nor the destination of the fearful
prayers of Welsh preachers, grocers, drapers, milkmen, lawyers, and
politicians.
Loth to go to Hell and put to a nonplus, David built a nest in a tree in
Richmond Park, and he paused therein to consider which way to proceed.
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