Let's ask Him to stop the fire.

If He can't, maybe He'll let us go to heaven anyway." So Gypsy knelt down on the rocks that were becoming hot now to the touch, and began the first words that came to her:--"Our Father which art in Heaven," and faltered in them, sobbing, and began again, and went through somehow to the end.
After that, they were still a moment.
"Joy," said Gypsy then, faintly, "I've been real ugly to you since you've been at our house." "I've scolded you, too, a lot, and made fun of your things.

I wish I hadn't." "If we could only get out of here, I'd never be cross to you as long as ever I live, and I wish you'd please to forgive me." "I will if--if you'll forgive me, you know.

Oh, Gypsy, it's growing so hot over here!" "Kiss me, Joy." They kissed each other through their sobs.
"Mother's in the parlor now, watching for us, and Tom and--" Gypsy's sentence was never finished.

There was a great blazing and crackling, and one of the trees fell, swooping down with a crash.