It was proper to pray, but I had to do my part by watching out and right well I knew it.

I just said, 'Dear God, please take the flat close to a pile and I'll do the rest,' over and over again.

Under such circumstances you don't think much about making a flowery prayer.

But mine was answered, for the flat bumped right into a pile for a minute and I flung the scarf and the shawl over my shoulder and scrambled up on a big providential stub.

And there I was, Mrs.Allan, clinging to that slippery old pile with no way of getting up or down.