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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Carpenter's Daughter, by 
+Anna Bartlett Warner and Susan Bogert Warner
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Carpenter's Daughter
+
+Author: Anna Bartlett Warner
+        Susan Bogert Warner
+
+Release Date: July 13, 2007 [EBook #22061]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CARPENTER'S DAUGHTER ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Marilynda Fraser-Cunliffe, Jana Srna and the
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+(This file was made using scans of public domain works in
+the International Children's Digital Library.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: NETTIE COMFORTS HER MOTHER.]
+
+
+
+
+                           THE
+
+                  CARPENTER'S DAUGHTER.
+
+
+  "Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called
+                  the children of God."
+
+
+   BY THE AUTHORS OF "THE WIDE, WIDE WORLD," ETC. ETC.
+
+
+               WITH COLOURED FRONTISPIECE.
+
+
+                          LONDON:
+                GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS,
+                  THE BROADWAY, LUDGATE.
+
+
+
+
+       BY THE AUTHORS OF "THE WIDE, WIDE WORLD."
+
+  Price ONE SHILLING each, with coloured Frontispiece
+        THE TWO SCHOOLGIRLS.
+        THE CARPENTER'S DAUGHTER.
+        THE PRINCE IN DISGUISE.
+        GERTRUDE AND HER BIBLE.
+        MARTHA AND RACHEL.
+        THE WIDOW AND HER DAUGHTER.
+        THE LITTLE BLACK HEN.
+        THE ROSE IN THE DESERT.
+
+
+
+
+                GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS.
+
+
+ London: Savill, Edwards & Co., Printers, Chandos Street.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+
+CHAP.                                  PAGE
+
+   I. SATURDAY EVENING'S WORK             1
+
+  II. SUNDAY'S REST                      20
+
+ III. NETTIE'S GARRET                    55
+
+  IV. THE BROWN CLOAK IN NOVEMBER        69
+
+   V. THE NEW BLANKET                    82
+
+  VI. THE HOUSE-RAISING                  97
+
+ VII. THE WAFFLES                       112
+
+VIII. THE GOLDEN CITY                   135
+
+
+
+
+THE CARPENTER'S DAUGHTER.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+SATURDAY EVENING'S WORK.
+
+
+Down in a little hollow, with the sides grown full of wild thorn, alder
+bushes, and stunted cedars, ran the stream of a clear spring. It ran
+over a bed of pebbly stones, showing every one as if there had been no
+water there, so clear it was; and it ran with a sweet soft murmur or
+gurgle over the stones, as if singing to itself and the bushes as it
+ran.
+
+On one side of the little stream a worn foot path took its course among
+the bushes; and down this path one summer's afternoon came a woman and a
+girl. They had pails to fill at the spring; the woman had a large wooden
+one, and the girl a light tin pail; and they drew the water with a
+little tin dipper, for it was not deep enough to let a pail be used for
+that. The pails were filled in silence, only the spring always was
+singing; and the woman and the girl turned and went up the path again.
+After getting up the bank, which was only a few feet, the path still
+went gently rising through a wild bit of ground, full of trees and low
+bushes; and not far off, through the trees, there came a gleam of bright
+light from the window of a house, on which the setting sun was shining.
+Half way to the house the girl and the woman stopped to rest; for water
+is heavy, and the tin pail which was so light before it was filled, had
+made the little girl's figure bend over to one side like a willow branch
+all the way from the spring. They stopped to rest, and even the woman
+had a very weary, jaded look.
+
+"I feel as if I shall give up, some of these days," she exclaimed.
+
+"O no, mother!" the little girl answered, cheerfully. She was panting,
+with her hand on her side, and her face had a quiet, very sober look;
+only at those words a little pleasant smile broke over it.
+
+"I shall," said the woman. "One can't stand everything,--for ever."
+
+The little girl had not got over panting yet, but standing there she
+struck up the sweet air and words,--
+
+    "'There is rest for the weary,
+      There is rest for the weary,
+      There is rest for the weary,
+        There is rest for you.'"
+
+"Yes, in the grave!" said the woman, bitterly. "There's no rest short of
+that,--for mind or body."
+
+"O yes, mother dear. 'For we which have believed do enter into rest.'
+Jesus don't make us wait."
+
+"I believe you eat the Bible and sleep on the Bible," said the woman,
+with a faint smile, taking at the same time a corner of her apron to
+wipe away a stray tear which had gathered in her eye. "I am glad it
+rests you, Nettie."
+
+"And you, mother."
+
+"Sometimes," Mrs. Mathieson answered, with a sigh. "But there's your
+father going to bring home a boarder, Nettie."
+
+"A boarder, mother!--What for?"
+
+"Heaven knows!--if it isn't to break my back, and my heart together. I
+thought I had enough to manage before, but here's this man coming, and
+I've got to get everything ready for him by to-morrow night."
+
+"Who is it, mother?"
+
+"It's one of your father's friends; so it's no good," said Mrs.
+Mathieson.
+
+"But where can he sleep?" Nettie asked, after a moment of thinking. Her
+mother paused.
+
+"There's no room but yours he can have. Barry wont be moved."
+
+"Where shall I sleep, mother?"
+
+"There's no place but up in the attic. I'll see what I can do to fit up
+a corner for you--if I ever can get time," said Mrs. Mathieson, taking
+up her pail. Nettie followed her example, and certainly did not smile
+again till they reached the house. They went round to the front door,
+because the back door belonged to another family. At the door, as they
+set down their pails again before mounting the stairs, Nettie smiled at
+her mother very placidly, and said--
+
+"Don't you go to fit up the attic, mother; I'll see to it in time. I can
+do it just as well."
+
+Mrs. Mathieson made no answer but groaned internally, and they went up
+the flight of stairs which led to their part of the house. The ground
+floor was occupied by somebody else. A little entry way at the top of
+the stairs received the wooden pail of water, and with the tin one
+Nettie went into the room used by the family. It was her father and
+mother's sleeping-room, their bed standing in one corner. It was the
+kitchen apparently, for a small cooking-stove was there, on which Nettie
+put the tea-kettle when she had filled it. And it was the common
+living-room also; for the next thing she did was to open a cupboard and
+take out cups and saucers and arrange them on a leaf table which stood
+toward one end of the room. The furniture was wooden and plain; the
+woodwork of the windows was unpainted; the cups and plates were of the
+commonest kind; and the floor had no covering but two strips of rag
+carpeting; nevertheless the whole was tidy and very clean, showing
+constant care. Mrs. Mathieson had sunk into a chair, as one who had no
+spirit to do anything; and watched her little daughter setting the table
+with eyes which seemed not to see her. They gazed inwardly at something
+she was thinking of.
+
+"Mother, what is there for supper?"
+
+"There is nothing. I must make some porridge." And Mrs. Mathieson got up
+from her chair.
+
+"Sit you still, mother, and I'll make it. I can."
+
+"If both our backs are to be broken," said Mrs. Mathieson, "I'd rather
+mine would break first." And she went on with her preparations.
+
+"But you don't like porridge," said Nettie. "You didn't eat anything
+last night."
+
+"That's nothing, child. I can bear an empty stomach, if only my brain
+wasn't quite so full."
+
+Nettie drew near the stove and looked on, a little sorrowfully.
+
+"I wish you had something you liked, mother! If only I was a little
+older, wouldn't it be nice? I could earn something then, and I would
+bring you home things that you liked out of my own money."
+
+This was not said sorrowfully, but with a bright gleam as of some
+fancied and pleasant possibility. The gleam was so catching, Mrs.
+Mathieson turned from her porridge-pot which she was stirring, to give a
+very heartfelt kiss to Nettie's lips; then she stirred on, and the
+shadow came over her face again.
+
+"Dear," she said, "just go in Barry's room and straighten it up a little
+before he comes in--will you? I haven't had a minute to do it, all day;
+and there wont be a bit of peace if he comes in and it isn't in order."
+
+Nettie turned and opened another door, which let her into a small
+chamber used as somebody's bedroom. It was all brown, like the other; a
+strip of the same carpet in the middle of the floor, and a small cheap
+chest of drawers, and a table. The bed had not been made up, and the
+tossed condition of the bedclothes spoke for the strength and energy of
+the person that used them, whoever he was. A pair of coarse shoes were
+in the middle of the whole; another pair, or rather a pair of
+half-boots, out at the toes, were in the middle of the floor; stockings,
+one under the bed and one under the table. On the table was a heap of
+confusion; and on the little bureau were to be seen pieces of wood, half
+cut and uncut, with shavings, and the knife and saw that had made them.
+Old newspapers, and school books, and a slate, and two kites, with no
+end of tail, were lying over every part of the room that happened to be
+convenient; also an ink bottle and pens; with chalk and resin and a
+medley of unimaginable things beside, that only boys can collect
+together and find delight in. If Nettie sighed as all this hurly-burly
+met her eye, it was only an internal sigh. She set about patiently
+bringing things to order. First made the bed, which it took all her
+strength to do: for the coverlets were of a very heavy and coarse
+manufacture of cotton and woollen mixed, blue and white; and then
+gradually found a way to bestow the various articles in Barry's
+apartment, so that things looked neat and comfortable. But perhaps it
+was a little bit of a sign of Nettie's feeling, that she began softly to
+sing to herself,
+
+    "'There is rest for the weary.'"
+
+"Hollo!" burst in a rude boy of some fifteen years, opening the door
+from the entry,--"who's puttin' my room to rights?"
+
+A very gentle voice said, "I've done it, Barry."
+
+"What have you done with that pine log?"
+
+"Here it is,--in the corner behind the bureau."
+
+"Don't you touch it now, to take it for your fire,--mind, Nettie!
+Where's my kite?"
+
+"You wont have time to fly it now, Barry; supper will be ready in two
+minutes."
+
+"What you got?"
+
+"The same kind we had last night."
+
+"_I_ don't care for supper." Barry was getting the tail of his kite
+together.
+
+"But please, Barry, come now; because it will make mother so much more
+trouble if you don't. She has the things to clear away after you're
+done, you know!"
+
+"Trouble! so much talk about trouble! _I_ don't mind trouble. I don't
+want any supper, I tell you."
+
+Nettie knew well enough he would want it by and by, but there was no use
+in saying anything more, and she said nothing. Barry got his kite
+together and went off. Then came a heavier step on the stairs, which she
+knew; and she hastily went into the other room to see that all was
+ready. The tea was made, and Mrs. Mathieson put the smoking dish of
+porridge on the table, just as the door opened and a man came in. A
+tall, burly, strong man, with a face that would have been a good face
+enough if its expression had been different, and if its hue had not been
+that of a purplish-red flush. He came to the table and silently sat down
+as he took a survey of what was on it.
+
+"Give me a cup of tea! Have you got no bread, Sophia?"
+
+"Nothing but what you see. I hoped you would bring home some money, Mr.
+Mathieson. I have neither milk nor bread; it's a mercy there's sugar. I
+don't know what you expect a lodger to live on."
+
+"Live on his board,--that'll give you enough. But you want something to
+begin with. I'd go out and get one or two things--but I'm so confounded
+tired. I can't."
+
+Mrs. Mathieson, without a word, put on a shawl and went to the closet
+for her bonnet.
+
+"I'll go, mother! Let me go, please. I want to go," exclaimed Nettie,
+eagerly. "I can get it. What shall I get, father?"
+
+Slowly and weariedly the mother laid off her things, as quickly the
+child put hers on.
+
+"What shall I get, father?"
+
+"Well, you can go down the street to Jackson's, and get what your mother
+wants: some milk and bread; and then you'd better fetch seven pounds of
+meal and a quart of treacle. And ask him to give you a nice piece of
+pork out of his barrel."
+
+"She can't bring all that!" exclaimed the mother; "you'd better go
+yourself, Mr. Mathieson. That would be a great deal more than the child
+can carry, or I either."
+
+"Then I'll go twice, mother; it isn't far; I'd like to go. I'll get it.
+Please give me the money, father."
+
+He cursed and swore at her, for answer. "Go along, and do as you are
+bid, without all this chaffering! Go to Jackson's and tell him you want
+the things, and I'll give him the money to-morrow. He knows me."
+
+Nettie knew he did, and stood her ground. Her father was just enough in
+liquor to be a little thick-headed and foolish.
+
+"You know I can't go without the money, father," she said, gently; "and
+to-morrow is Sunday."
+
+He cursed Sunday and swore again, but finally put his hand in his pocket
+and threw some money across the table to her. He was just in a state not
+to be careful what he did, and he threw her crown-pieces where if he had
+been quite himself he would have given shillings. Nettie took them
+without any remark, and her basket, and went out.
+
+It was just sundown. The village lay glittering in the light, that would
+be gone in a few minutes; and up on the hill the white church, standing
+high, showed all bright in the sunbeams from its sparkling vane at the
+top of the spire down to the lowest step at the door. Nettie's home was
+in a branch-road, a few steps from the main street of the village that
+led up to the church at one end of it. All along that street the
+sunlight lay, on the grass and the roadway and the sidewalks and the
+tops of a few elm-trees. The street was empty; it was most people's
+supper-time. Nettie turned the corner and went down the village. She
+went slowly; her little feet were already tired with the work they had
+done that day, and back and arms and head all seemed tired too. But
+Nettie never thought it hard that her mother did not go instead of
+letting her go; she knew her mother could not bear to be seen in the
+village in the old shabby gown and shawl she wore; for Mrs. Mathieson
+had seen better days. And besides that, she would be busy enough as it
+was, and till a late hour, this Saturday night. Nettie's gown was shabby
+too; yes, very, compared with that almost every other child in the
+village wore; yet somehow Nettie was not ashamed. She did not think of
+it now, as her slow steps took her down the village street; she was
+thinking what she should do about the money. Her father had given her
+two or three times as much, she knew, as he meant her to spend; he was a
+good workman, and had just got in his week's wages. What should Nettie
+do? Might she keep and give to her mother what was over? it was, and
+would be, so much wanted! and from her father they could never get it
+again. He had his own ways of disposing of what he earned, and very
+little of it indeed went to the wants of his wife and daughter. What
+might Nettie do? She pondered, swinging her basket in her hand, till she
+reached a corner where the village street turned off again, and where
+the store of Mr. Jackson stood. There she found Barry bargaining for
+some things he at least had money for.
+
+"O Barry, how good!" exclaimed Nettie; "you can help me carry my things
+home."
+
+"I'll know the reason first, though," answered Barry. "What are you
+going to get?"
+
+"Father wants a bag of corn meal and a piece of pork and some treacle;
+and you know I can't carry them all, Barry. I've got to get bread and
+milk besides."
+
+"Hurra!" said Barry, "now we'll have fried cakes! I'll tell you what
+I'll do, Nettie--I'll take home the treacle, if you'll make me some
+to-night for supper."
+
+"O I can't, Barry! I've got so much else to do, and it's Saturday
+night."
+
+"Very good--get your things home yourself then."
+
+Barry turned away, and Nettie made her bargains. He still stood by
+however and watched her. When the pork and the meal and the treacle were
+bestowed in the basket, it was so heavy she could not manage to carry
+it. How many journeys to and fro would it cost her?
+
+"Barry," she said, "you take this home for me, and if mother says so,
+I'll make you the cakes."
+
+"Be quick then," said her brother, shouldering the basket, "for I'm
+getting hungry."
+
+Nettie went a few steps further on the main road of the village, which
+was little besides one long street and not very long either; and went in
+at the door of a very little dwelling, neat and tidy like all the rest.
+It admitted her to the tiniest morsel of a shop--at least there was a
+long table there which seemed to do duty as a counter; and before, not
+behind, it sat a spruce little woman sewing. She jumped up as Nettie
+entered. By the becoming smartness of her calico dress and white collar,
+the beautiful order of her hair, and a certain peculiarity of feature,
+you might know before she spoke that the little baker was a Frenchwoman.
+She spoke English quite well, though not so fast as she spoke her own
+tongue.
+
+"I want two loaves of bread, Mrs. August; and a pint of milk, if you
+please."
+
+"How will you carry them, my child? you cannot take them all at the
+time."
+
+"O yes, I can," said Nettie, cheerfully. "I can manage. They are not
+heavy."
+
+"No, I hope not," said the Frenchwoman; "it is not heavy, my bread! but
+two loaves are not one, no more. Is your mother well?"
+
+She then set busily about wrapping the loaves in paper and measuring out
+the milk. Nettie answered her mother was well.
+
+"And you?" said the little woman, looking at her sideways. "Somebody is
+tired this evening."
+
+"Yes," said Nettie, brightly; "but I don't mind. One must be tired
+sometimes. Thank you, ma'am."
+
+The woman had put the loaves and the milk carefully in her arms and in
+her hand, so that she could carry them, and looked after her as she went
+up the street.
+
+"One must be tired sometimes!" said she to herself, with a turn of her
+capable little head. "I should like to hear her say 'One must be rested
+sometimes;' but I do not hear that."
+
+So perhaps Nettie thought, as she went homeward. It would have been very
+natural. Now the sun was down, the bright gleam was off the village; the
+soft shades of evening were gathering and lights twinkled in windows.
+Nettie walked very slowly, her arms full of the bread. Perhaps she
+wished her Saturday's work was all done, like other people's. All I can
+tell you is, that as she went along through the quiet deserted street,
+all alone, she broke out softly singing to herself the words,
+
+    "No need of the sun in that day
+     Which never is followed by night."
+
+And that when she got home she ran up stairs quite briskly, and came in
+with a very placid face; and told her mother she had had a pleasant
+walk--which was perfectly true.
+
+"I'm glad, dear," said her mother, with a sigh. "What made it pleasant?"
+
+"Why, mother," said Nettie, "Jesus was with me all the way."
+
+"God bless you, child!" said her mother; "you are the very rose of my
+heart!"
+
+There was only time for this little dialogue, for which Mr. Mathieson's
+slumbers had given a chance. But then Barry entered, and noisily claimed
+Nettie's promise. And without a cloud crossing her sweet brow, she made
+the cakes, and baked them on the stove, and served Barry until he had
+enough; nor ever said how weary she was of being on her feet. There
+were some cakes left, and Mrs. Mathieson saw to it that Nettie sat down
+and ate them; and then sent her off to bed without suffering her to do
+anything more; though Nettie pleaded to be allowed to clear away the
+dishes. Mrs. Mathieson did that; and then sat down to make darns and
+patches on various articles of clothing, till the old clock of the
+church on the hill tolled out solemnly the hour of twelve all over the
+village.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+SUNDAY'S REST.
+
+
+Nettie's room was the only room on that floor besides her mother's and
+Barry's. It was at the back of the house, with a pleasant look-out over
+the trees and bushes between it and the spring. Over these the view went
+to distant hills and fields, that always looked pretty in all sorts of
+lights, Nettie thought. Besides that, it was a clean, neat little room;
+bare to be sure, without even Barry's strip of rag carpet; but on a
+little black table lay Nettie's Bible and Sunday-school books; and each
+window had a chair; and a chest of drawers held all her little wardrobe
+and a great deal of room to spare besides; and the cot-bed in one corner
+was nicely made up. It was a very comfortable-looking room to Nettie.
+
+"So this is the last night I shall sleep here!" she thought as she went
+in. "To-morrow I must go up to the attic. Well,--I can pray there just
+the same; and God will be with me there just the same."
+
+It was a comfort; but it was the only one Nettie could think of in
+connexion with her removal. The attic was no room, but only a little
+garret used as a lumber place; not boarded up, nor plastered at all;
+nothing but the beams and the side-boarding for the walls, and nothing
+but the rafters and the shingles between it and the sky. Besides which,
+it was full of lumber of one sort and another. How Nettie was to move up
+there the next day, being Sunday, she could not imagine; but she was so
+tired that as soon as her head touched her pillow she fell fast asleep,
+and forgot to think about it.
+
+The next thing was the bright morning light rousing her, and the joyful
+thought that it was Sunday morning. A beautiful day it was. The eastern
+light was shining over upon Nettie's distant hills, with all sorts of
+fresh lovely colours and promise of what the coming hours would bring.
+Nettie looked at them lovingly, for she was very fond of them and had a
+great many thoughts about those hills. "As the mountains are round about
+Jerusalem, so the Lord is round about his people;"--that was one thing
+they made her think of. She thought of it now as she was dressing, and
+it gave her the feeling of being surrounded with a mighty and strong
+protection on every side. It made Nettie's heart curiously glad, and her
+tongue speak of joyful things; for when she knelt down to pray she was
+full of thanksgiving.
+
+The next thing was, that taking her tin pail Nettie set off down to the
+spring to get water to boil the kettle. It was so sweet and pleasant--no
+other spring could supply nicer water. The dew brushed from the bushes
+and grass as she went by; and from every green thing there went up a
+fresh dewy smell that was reviving. The breath of the summer wind,
+moving gently, touched her cheek and fluttered her hair, and said God
+had given a beautiful day to the world; and Nettie thanked him in her
+heart and went on rejoicing. Sunday was Nettie's holiday, and
+Sunday-school and church were her delight. And though she went in all
+weathers, and nothing would keep her, yet sunshine is sunshine; and she
+felt so this morning. So she gaily filled her pail at the spring and
+trudged back with it to the house. The next thing was to tap at her
+mother's door.
+
+Mrs. Mathieson opened it, in her nightgown; she was just up, and looked
+as if her night's sleep had been all too short for her.
+
+"Why, Nettie!--is it late?" she said, as Nettie and the tin pail came
+in.
+
+"No, mother; it's just good time. You get dressed, and I'll make the
+fire ready. It's beautiful out, mother."
+
+Mrs. Mathieson made no answer, and Nettie went to work with the fire. It
+was an easy matter to put in some paper and kindle the light wood; and
+when the kettle was on, Nettie went round the room softly setting it to
+rights as well as she could. Then glanced at her father, still sleeping.
+
+"I can't set the table yet, mother."
+
+"No, child; go off, and I'll see to the rest. If I can get folks up, at
+least," said Mrs. Mathieson, somewhat despondingly. Sunday morning that
+was a doubtful business, she and Nettie knew. Nettie went to her own
+room to carry out a plan she had. If she could manage to get her things
+conveyed up to the attic without her mother knowing it, just so much
+labour and trouble would be spared her, and her mother might have a
+better chance of some rest that day. Little enough, with a lodger coming
+that evening! To get her things up there,--that was all Nettie would do
+to-day; but that must be done. The steep stairs to the attic went up
+from the entry way, just outside of Nettie's door. She went up the first
+time to see what place there was to bestow anything.
+
+The little garret was strewn all over with things carelessly thrown in,
+merely to get them out of the way. There was a small shutter window in
+each gable. One was open, just revealing the utter confusion; but
+half-showing the dust that lay on everything. The other window, the back
+one, was fairly shut up by a great heap of boxes and barrels piled
+against it. In no part was there a clear space, or a hopeful opening.
+Nettie stood aghast for some moments, not knowing what to do. "But if I
+don't, mother will have to," she thought. It nerved her little arm, and
+one thought of her invisible protection nerved her heart, which had sunk
+at first coming up. Softly she moved and began her operations, lest her
+mother down stairs should hear and find out what she was about before it
+was done. Sunday too! But there was no help for it.
+
+Notwithstanding the pile of boxes, she resolved to begin at the end with
+the closed window; for near the other there were things she could not
+move: an old stove, a wheelbarrow, a box of heavy iron tools, and some
+bags of charcoal and other matters. By a little pushing and coaxing,
+Nettie made a place for the boxes, and then began her task of removing
+them. One by one, painfully, for some were unwieldy and some were
+weighty, they travelled across in Nettie's arms, or were shoved, or
+turned over and over across the floor, from the window to a snug
+position under the eaves where she stowed them. Barry would have been a
+good hand at this business, not to speak of his father: but Nettie knew
+there was no help to be had from either of them; and the very thought of
+them did not come into her head. Mr. Mathieson, provided he worked at
+his trade, thought the "women-folks" might look after the house; Barry
+considered that when he had got through the heavy labours of school, he
+had done his part of the world's work. So Nettie toiled on with her
+boxes and barrels. They scratched her arms; they covered her clean face
+with dust; they tried her strength; but every effort saved one to her
+mother, and Nettie never stopped except to gather breath and rest.
+
+The last thing of all under the window was a great old chest. Nettie
+could not move it, and she concluded it might stay there very
+conveniently for a seat. All the rest of the pile she cleared away, and
+then opened the window. There was no sash; nothing but a wooden shutter
+fastened with a hook. Nettie threw it open. There, to her great joy,
+behold she had the very same view of her hills, all shining in the sun
+now. Only this window was higher than her old one, and lifted her up
+more above the tops of the trees, and gave a better and clearer and
+wider view of the distant open country she liked so much. Nettie was
+greatly delighted, and refreshed herself with a good look out and a
+breath of fresh air before she began her labours again. That gave the
+dust a little chance to settle, too.
+
+There was a good deal to do yet before she could have a place clear for
+her bed, not to speak of anything more. However, it was done at last;
+the floor brushed up, all ready, and the top of the chest wiped clean;
+and next Nettie set about bringing all her things up the stairs and
+setting them here, where she could. Her clothes, her little bit of a
+looking-glass, her Bible and books and slate, even her little washstand,
+she managed to lug up to the attic; with many a journey and much pains.
+But it was about done, before her mother called her to breakfast. The
+two lagging members of the family had been roused at last, and were
+seated at the table.
+
+"Why, what have you been doing, child? how you look!" said Mrs.
+Mathieson.
+
+"How do I look?" said Nettie.
+
+"Queer enough," said her father.
+
+Nettie laughed, and hastened to another subject; she knew if they got
+upon this there would be some disagreeable words before it was over. She
+had made up her mind what to do, and now handed her father the money
+remaining from her purchases. "You gave me too much, father, last
+night," she said, simply; "here is the rest." Mr. Mathieson took it and
+looked at it.
+
+"Did I give you all this?"
+
+"Yes, father."
+
+"Did you pay for what you got, besides?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+He muttered something which was very like an oath in his throat, and
+looked at his little daughter, who was quietly eating her breakfast.
+Something touched him unwontedly.
+
+"You're an honest little girl!" he said. "There! you may have that for
+yourself;" and he tossed her a shilling.
+
+You could see, by a little streak of pink colour down each of Nettie's
+cheeks, that some great thought of pleasure had started into her mind.
+"For myself, father?" she repeated.
+
+"All for yourself," said Mr. Mathieson, buttoning up his money with a
+very satisfied air. Nettie said no more, only ate her breakfast a little
+quicker after that. It was time, too; for the late hours of some of the
+family always made her in a hurry about getting to Sunday-school; and
+the minute Nettie had done, she got her bonnet, her Sunday bonnet--the
+best she had to wear--and set off. Mrs. Mathieson never let her wait for
+anything at home _that_ morning.
+
+This was Nettie's happy time. It never troubled her, that she had
+nothing but a sun-bonnet of white muslin, nicely starched and ironed,
+while almost all the other girls that came to the school had little
+straw bonnets trimmed with blue and pink and yellow and green ribbons;
+and some of them wore silk bonnets. Nettie did not even think of it; she
+loved her Sunday lesson, and her Bible, and her teacher, so much; and
+it was such a good time when she went to enjoy them all together. There
+was only a little way she had to go; for the road where Mrs. Mathieson
+lived, after running down a little further from the village, met another
+road which turned right up the hill to the church; or Nettie could take
+the other way, to the main village street, and straight up that.
+Generally she chose the forked way, because it was the emptiest.
+
+Nettie's class in the Sunday-school was of ten little girls about her
+own age; and their teacher was a very pleasant and kind gentleman, named
+Mr. Folke. Nettie loved him dearly; she would do anything that Mr. Folke
+told her to do. Their teacher was very apt to give the children a
+question to answer from the Bible; for which they had to look out texts
+during the week. This week the question was, "Who are happy?" and Nettie
+was very eager to know what answers the other girls would bring. She was
+in good time, and sat resting and watching the boys and girls and
+teachers as they came in, before the school began. She was first there
+of all her class; and watching so eagerly to see those who were coming,
+that she did not know Mr. Folke was near till he spoke to her. Nettie
+started and turned.
+
+"How do you do?" said her teacher, kindly. "Are you quite well, Nettie,
+this morning?" For he thought she looked pale and tired. But her face
+coloured with pleasure and a smile shone all over it, as she told him
+she was very well.
+
+"Have you found out who are the happy people, Nettie?"
+
+"Yes, Mr. Folke; I have found a verse. But I knew before."
+
+"I thought you did. Who are they, Nettie?"
+
+"Those that love Jesus, sir."
+
+"Ay. In the Christian armour, you know, the feet are 'shod with the
+preparation of the Gospel of peace.' With the love of Jesus in our
+hearts, our feet can go over very rough ways and hardly feel that they
+are rough. Do you find it so?"
+
+"O yes, sir!"
+
+He said no more, for others of the class now came up; and Nettie
+wondered how he knew, or if he knew, that she had a rough way to go
+over. But his words were a help and comfort to her. So was the whole
+lesson that day. The verses about the happy people were beautiful. The
+seven girls who sat on one side of Nettie repeated the blessings told of
+in the fifth chapter of Matthew, about the poor in spirit, the mourners,
+the meek, those that hunger and thirst after righteousness, the
+merciful, the pure in heart, and the peacemakers. Then came Nettie's
+verse. It was this:
+
+"Happy is he that hath the God of Jacob for his help, whose hope is in
+the Lord his God."
+
+The next girl gave the words of Jesus, "If ye know these things, happy
+are ye if ye do them."
+
+The last gave, "Blessed is he whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin
+is covered."
+
+Then came Mr. Folke's verse, and Nettie thought it was the most
+beautiful of all. "Blessed are they that do his commandments, that they
+may have right to the tree of life, and may enter in through the gates
+into the city."
+
+Then Mr. Folke talked about that city; its streets of gold, and the
+gates of pearl, through which nothing that defileth can by any means
+enter. He told how Jesus will make his people happy there; how they will
+be with him, and all their tears wiped away. And Jesus will be their
+Shepherd; his sheep will not wander from him anymore; "and they shall
+see his face, and his name shall be in their foreheads." Nettie could
+hardly keep from crying as Mr. Folke went on; she felt as if she was
+half in heaven already, and it seemed very odd to cry for gladness; but
+she could not help it. Then the school closed with singing the hymn,
+
+    "O how happy are they
+     Who the Saviour obey,
+     And have laid up their treasures above."
+
+From school they went to church, of course. A strange minister preached
+that day, and Nettie could not understand him always; but the words of
+the hymn and Mr. Folke's words ran in her head then, and she was very
+happy all church time. And as she was walking home, still the tune and
+the words ran in her ears,
+
+    "Jesus all the day long
+     Is my joy and my song;
+        O that all his salvation might see!"
+
+So, thinking busily, Nettie got home and ran up stairs. What a change!
+It looked like a place very, very far from those gates of pearl.
+
+Her mother sat on one side of the stove, not dressed for church, and
+leaning her head on her hand. Mr. Mathieson was on the other side,
+talking and angry. Barry stood back, playing ball by himself by throwing
+it up and catching it again. The talk stopped at Nettie's entrance. She
+threw off her bonnet and began to set the table, hoping that would bring
+peace.
+
+"Your father don't want any dinner," said Mrs. Mathieson.
+
+"Yes I do!"--thundered her husband; "but I tell you I'll take anything
+now; so leave your cooking till supper--when Lumber will be here. Go
+on, child! and get your work done."
+
+There were no preparations for dinner, and Nettie was at a loss; and did
+not like to say anything for fear of bringing on a storm. Her mother
+looked both weary and out of temper. The kettle was boiling,--the only
+thing about the room that had a pleasant seeming.
+
+"Will you have a cup of tea, father?" said Nettie.
+
+"Anything you like--yes, a cup of tea will do; and hark'ye, child, I
+want a good stout supper got this afternoon. Your mother don't choose to
+hear me. Mr. Lumber is coming, and I want a good supper to make him
+think he's got to the right place. Do you hear, Nettie?"
+
+"Yes, father."
+
+Nettie went on to do the best she could. She warmed the remains of last
+night's porridge and gave it to Barry with treacle, to keep him quiet.
+Meanwhile she had made the tea, and toasted a slice of bread very
+nicely, though with great pains, for the fire wasn't good; and the
+toast and a cup of tea she gave to her father. He eat it with an
+eagerness which let Nettie know she must make another slice as fast as
+possible.
+
+"Hollo! Nettie--I say, give us some of that, will you?" said Barry,
+finding his porridge poor in taste.
+
+"Barry, there isn't bread enough--I can't," whispered Nettie. "We've got
+to keep a loaf for supper."
+
+"Eat what you've got, or let it alone!" thundered Mr. Mathieson, in the
+way he had when he was out of patience, and which always tried Nettie
+exceedingly.
+
+"She's got more," said Barry. "She's toasting two pieces this minute. I
+want one."
+
+"I'll knock you over, if you say another word," said his father. Nettie
+was frightened, for she saw he meant to have the whole, and she had
+destined a bit for her mother. However, when she gave her father his
+second slice, she ventured, and took the other with a cup of tea to the
+forlorn figure on the other side of the stove. Mrs. Mathieson took only
+the tea. But Mr. Mathieson's ire was roused afresh. Perhaps toast and
+tea didn't agree with him.
+
+"Have you got all ready for Mr. Lumber?" he said, in a tone of voice
+very unwilling to be pleased.
+
+"No," said his wife,--"I have had no chance. I have been cooking and
+clearing up all the morning. His room isn't ready."
+
+"Well, you had better get it ready pretty quick. What's to do?"
+
+"Everything's to do," said Mrs. Mathieson.
+
+He swore at her. "Why can't you answer a plain question? I say, _what's_
+to do?"
+
+"There's all Nettie's things in the room at present. They are all to
+move up stairs, and the red bedstead to bring down."
+
+"No, mother," said Nettie, gently,--"all my things are up stairs
+already;--there's only the cot and the bed, that I couldn't move."
+
+Mrs. Mathieson gave no outward sign of the mixed feeling of pain and
+pleasure that shot through her heart. Pleasure at her child's thoughtful
+love, pain that she should have to show it in such a way.
+
+"When did you do it, Nettie?"
+
+"This morning before breakfast, mother. It's all ready, father, if you
+or Barry would take up my cot and the bed, and bring down the other
+bedstead. It's too heavy for me."
+
+"That's what I call doing business and having some spirit," said her
+father. "Not sitting and letting your work come to you. Here,
+Nettie--I'll do the rest for you."
+
+Nettie ran with him to show him what was wanted; and Mr. Mathieson's
+strong arms had it all done very quickly. Nettie eagerly thanked him;
+and then seeing him in good-humour with her, she ventured something
+more.
+
+"Mother's very tired to-day, father," she whispered; "she'll feel better
+by and by if she has a little rest. Do you think you would mind helping
+me put up this bedstead?"
+
+"Well, here goes!" said Mr. Mathieson. "Which piece belongs here, to
+begin with?"
+
+Nettie did not know much better than he; but putting not only her whole
+mind but also her whole heart into it, she managed to find out and
+direct him successfully. Her part was hard work; she had to stand
+holding up the heavy end of the bedstead while her father fitted in the
+long pieces; and then she helped him to lace the cords, which had to be
+drawn very tight; and precious time was running away fast, and Nettie
+had had no dinner. But she stood patiently, with a thought in her heart
+which kept her in peace all the while. When it was done, Mr. Mathieson
+went out; and Nettie returned to her mother. She was sitting where she
+had left her. Barry was gone.
+
+"Mother, wont you have something to eat?"
+
+"I can't eat, child. Have you had anything yourself?"
+
+Nettie had seized a remnant of her father's toast, and was munching it
+hastily.
+
+"Mother, wont you put on your gown and come to church this afternoon?
+Do! It will rest you. Do, mother!"
+
+"You forget I've got to get supper, child. Your father doesn't think it
+necessary that anybody should rest, or go to church, or do anything
+except work. What he is thinking of, I am sure I don't know. There is no
+place to eat in but this room, and he is going to bring a stranger into
+it; and if I was dying I should have to get up for every meal that is
+wanted. I never thought I should come to live so! And I cannot dress
+myself, or prepare the victuals, or have a moment to myself, but I have
+the chance of Mr. Lumber and your father in here to look on! It is worse
+than a dog's life!"
+
+It looked pretty bad, Nettie thought. She did not know what to say. She
+began clearing away the things on the table.
+
+"And what sort of a man this Mr. Lumber is, I don't know. I dare say he
+is like his name--one of your father's cronies--a drinker and a swearer.
+And Mr. Mathieson will bring him here, to be on my hands! It will kill
+me before spring, if it lasts."
+
+"Couldn't there be a bed made somewhere else for Barry, mother? and then
+we could eat in there."
+
+"Where would you make it? I could curtain off a corner of this room, but
+Barry wouldn't have it, nor your father; and they'd all want to be
+close to the fire the minute the weather grows the least bit cool.
+No--there is nothing for me, but to live on till Death calls for me!"
+
+"Mother--Jesus said, 'He that liveth and believeth in me shall never
+die.'"
+
+"O yes!" said Mrs. Mathieson, with a kind of long-drawn groan, "I don't
+know how it will be about that! I get so put about, now in these times,
+that it seems to me I don't know my own soul!"
+
+"Mother, come to church this afternoon."
+
+"I can't, child. I've got to put up that man's bed and make it."
+
+"That is all done, mother, and the floor brushed up. Do come!"
+
+"Why, who put it up?"
+
+"Father and I."
+
+"Well! you do beat all, Nettie. But I can't, child; I haven't time."
+
+"Yes, mother, plenty. There's all the hour of Sunday-school before
+church begins. Now do, mother!"
+
+"Well--you go off to school; and if I can, maybe I will. You go right
+off, Nettie."
+
+Nettie went, feeling weary and empty by dint of hard work and a dinner
+of a small bit of dry toast. But she thought little about that. She
+wanted to ask Mr. Folke a question.
+
+The lesson that afternoon was upon the peacemakers; and Mr. Folke asked
+the children what ways they knew of being a peacemaker? The answer
+somehow was not very ready.
+
+"Isn't it to stop people from quarrelling?" one child asked.
+
+"How can you do that, Kizzy?"
+
+Kizzy seemed doubtful. "I could ask them to stop," she said.
+
+"Well, suppose you did. Would angry people mind your asking?"
+
+"I don't know, sir. If they were very angry, I suppose they wouldn't."
+
+"Perhaps not. One thing is certain, Kizzy; you must have peace in your
+own heart, to give you the least chance."
+
+"How, Mr. Folke?"
+
+"If you want to put out a fire, you must not stick into it something
+that will catch?"
+
+"That would make the fire worse," said one of the girls.
+
+"Certainly. So if you want to touch quarrelsome spirits with the least
+hope of softening them, you must be so full of the love of Jesus
+yourself that nothing but love can come out of your own spirit. You see
+it means a good deal, to be a peacemaker."
+
+"I always thought that must be one of the easiest things of the whole
+lot," said one of the class.
+
+"You wont find it so, I think; or rather you will find they are all
+parts of the same character, and the blessing is one. But there are more
+ways of being a peacemaker. What do you do when the hinge of a door
+creaks?"
+
+One said "she didn't know;" another said "Nothing." "I stop my ears,"
+said a third. Mr. Folke laughed.
+
+"_That_ would not do for a peacemaker," he said. "Don't you know what
+makes machinery work smoothly?"
+
+"Oil!" cried Kizzy.
+
+"Oil to be sure. One little drop of oil will stop ever so much creaking
+and groaning and complaining, of hinges and wheels and all sorts of
+machines. Now, peoples' tempers are like wheels and hinges--but what
+sort of oil shall we use?"
+
+The girls looked at each other, and then one of them said, "Kindness."
+
+"To be sure! A gentle word, a look of love, a little bit of kindness,
+will smooth down a roughened temper or a wry face, and soften a hard
+piece of work, and make all go easily. And so of reproving sinners. The
+Psalmist says, 'Let the righteous smite me; it shall be a kindness: and
+let him reprove me; it shall be an excellent oil, which shall not break
+my head.' But you see the peacemaker must be righteous himself, or he
+hasn't the oil. Love is the oil; the love of Jesus."
+
+"Mr. Folke," said Nettie, timidly, "wasn't Jesus a peacemaker?"
+
+"The greatest that ever lived!" said Mr. Folke, his eyes lighting up
+with pleasure at her question. "He made all the peace there is in the
+world, for he bought it, when he died on the cross to reconcile man with
+God. All our drops of oil were bought with drops of blood."
+
+"And," said Nettie, hesitatingly, "Mr. Folke, isn't that one way of
+being a peacemaker?"
+
+"What?"
+
+"I mean, to persuade people to be at peace with him?"
+
+"That is the way above all others, my child; that is truly to be the
+'children of God.' Jesus came and preached peace; and that is what his
+servants are doing, and will do, till he comes. And 'they shall be
+called the children of God.' 'Beloved, if God so loved us, we ought also
+to love one another.'"
+
+Mr. Folke paused, with a face so full of thought, of eagerness, and of
+love, that none of the children spoke and some of them wondered. And
+before Mr. Folke spoke again the superintendent's little bell rang; and
+they all stood up to sing. But Nettie Mathieson hardly could sing; it
+seemed to her so glorious a thing to be _that_ sort of a peacemaker.
+Could she be one? But the Lord blessed the peacemakers; then it must be
+his will that all his children should be such; then he would enable her
+to be one! It was a great thought. Nettie's heart swelled, with hope
+and joy and prayer. She knew whose peace she longed for, first of all.
+
+Her mother had now come to church; so Nettie enjoyed all the services
+with nothing to hinder. Then they walked home together, not speaking
+much to each other, but every step of the way pleasant in the Sunday
+afternoon light, till they got to their own door. Nettie knew what her
+mother's sigh meant, as they mounted the stairs. Happily, nobody was at
+home yet but themselves.
+
+"Now, mother," said Nettie, when she had changed her dress and come to
+the common room,--"what's to be for supper? I'll get it. You sit still
+and read, if you want to, while it's quiet. What must we have?"
+
+"There is not a great deal to do," said Mrs. Mathieson. "I boiled the
+pork this morning, and that was what set your father up so; that's
+ready; and he says there must be cakes. The potatoes are all ready to
+put down--I was going to boil 'em this morning, and he stopped me."
+
+Nettie looked grave about the cakes. "However, mother," she said, "I
+don't believe that little loaf of bread would last, even if you and I
+didn't touch it; it is not very big."
+
+Mrs. Mathieson wearily sat down and took her Testament, as Nettie begged
+her; and Nettie put on the kettle and the pot of potatoes, and made the
+cakes ready to bake. The table was set, and the treacle and everything
+on it, except the hot things, when Barry burst in.
+
+"Hollo, cakes!--hollo, treacle!" he shouted. "Pork and treacle--that's
+the right sort of thing. Now we're going to live something like."
+
+"Hush, Barry, don't make such a noise," said his sister. "You know it's
+Sunday evening."
+
+"Sunday! well, what about Sunday? What's Sunday good for, except to eat,
+I should like to know?"
+
+"O Barry!"
+
+"O Barry!" said he, mimicking her. "Come, shut up, and fry your cake.
+Father and Lumber will be here just now."
+
+Nettie hushed, as she was bade; and as soon as her father's step was
+heard below, she went to frying cakes with all her might. She just
+turned her head to give one look at Mr. Lumber as he came in. He
+appeared to her very like her father, but without the recommendation
+which her affection gave to Mr. Mathieson. A big, strong, burly fellow,
+with the same tinges of red about his face, that the summer sun had
+never brought there. Nettie did not want to look again.
+
+She had a good specimen this evening of what they might expect in
+future. Mrs. Mathieson poured out the tea, and Nettie baked the cakes;
+and perhaps because she was almost faint for want of something to eat,
+she thought no three people ever ate so many griddle cakes before at one
+meal. In vain plateful after plateful went upon the board, and Nettie
+baked them as fast as she could; they were eaten just as fast; and when
+finally the chairs were pushed back, and the men went down stairs,
+Nettie and her mother looked at each other.
+
+"There's only one left, mother," said Nettie.
+
+"And he has eaten certainly half the piece of pork," said Mrs.
+Mathieson. "Come, child, take something yourself; you're ready to drop.
+I'll clear away."
+
+But it is beyond the power of any disturbance to take away the gladness
+of a heart where Jesus is. Nettie's bread was sweet to her, even that
+evening. Before she had well finished her supper, her father and his
+lodger came back. They sat down on either side the fire and began to
+talk,--of politics, and of their work on which they were then engaged,
+with their employers and their fellow-workmen; of the state of business
+in the village, and profits and losses, and the success of particular
+men in making money. They talked loudly and eagerly; and Nettie had to
+go round and round them, to get to the fire for hot water and back to
+the table to wash up the cups and plates. Her mother was helping at the
+table, but to get round Mr. Lumber to the pot of hot water on the fire
+every now and then, fell to Nettie's share. It was not a very nice
+ending of her sweet Sabbath day, she thought. The dishes were done and
+put away, and still the talk went on as hard as ever. It was sometimes
+a pleasure to Nettie's father to hear her sing hymns of a Sunday
+evening. Nettie watched for a chance, and the first time there was a
+lull of the voices of the two men, she asked, softly, "Shall I sing,
+father?" Mr. Mathieson hesitated, and then answered, "No, better not,
+Nettie; Mr. Lumber might not find it amusing;" and the talk began again.
+Nettie waited a little longer, feeling exceedingly tired; then she rose
+and lit a candle.
+
+"What are you doing, Nettie?" her mother said.
+
+"I am going to bed, mother."
+
+"You can't take a candle up there, child! the attic's all full of
+things, and you'd certainly set us on fire."
+
+"I'll take great care, mother."
+
+"But you can't, child! The wind might blow the snuff of your candle
+right into something that would be all a flame by the time you're
+asleep. You must manage without a light somehow."
+
+"But I can't see to find my way," said Nettie, who was secretly
+trembling with fear.
+
+"I'll light you then, for once, and you'll soon learn the way. Give me
+the candle."
+
+Nettie hushed the words that came crowding into her mouth, and clambered
+up the steep stairs to the attic. Mrs. Mathieson followed her with the
+candle till she got to the top, and there she held it till Nettie had
+found her way to the other end where her bed was. Then she said
+good-night and went down.
+
+The little square shutter of the window was open, and a ray of moonlight
+streamed in upon the bed. It was nicely made up; Nettie saw that her
+mother had been there and had done that for her and wrought a little
+more space and order among the things around the bed. But the moonlight
+did not get in far enough to show much more. Just a little of this thing
+and of that could be seen; a corner of a chest, or a gleam on the side
+of a meal bag; the half light showed nothing clearly except the confused
+fulness of the little attic. Nettie had given her head a blow against a
+piece of timber as she came through it; and she sat down upon her
+little bed, feeling rather miserable. Her fear was that the rats might
+visit her up there. She did not certainly know that there were rats in
+the attic, but she had been fearing to think of them and did not dare to
+ask; as well as unwilling to give trouble to her mother; for if they
+_did_ come there, Nettie did not see how the matter could be mended. She
+sat down on her little bed, so much frightened that she forgot how tired
+she was. Her ears were as sharp as needles, listening to hear the scrape
+of a rat's tooth upon a timber or the patter of his feet over the floor.
+
+For a few minutes Nettie almost thought she could not sleep up there
+alone, and must go down and implore her mother to let her spread her bed
+in a corner of her room. But what a bustle that would make. Her mother
+would be troubled, and her father would be angry, and the lodger would
+be disturbed, and there was no telling how much harm would come of it.
+No; the peacemaker of the family must not do that. And then the words
+floated into Nettie's mind again, "Blessed are the peacemakers, for they
+shall be called the children of God." Like a strain of the sweetest
+music it floated in; and if an angel had come and brought the words
+straight to Nettie, she could not have been more comforted. She felt the
+rats could not hurt her while she was within hearing of that music; and
+she got up and kneeled down upon the chest under the little window and
+looked out.
+
+It was like the day that had passed; not like the evening. So purely and
+softly the moonbeams lay on all the fields and trees and hills, there
+was no sign of anything but peace and purity to be seen. No noise of
+men's work or voices; no clangour of the iron foundry which on weekdays
+might be heard; no sight of anything unlovely; but the wide beauty which
+God had made, and the still peace and light which he had spread over it.
+Every little flapping leaf seemed to Nettie to tell of its Maker; and
+the music of those words seemed to be all through the still
+air--"Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the children
+of God." Tears of gladness and hope slowly gathered in Nettie's eyes.
+The children of God will enter in, by and by, through those pearly
+gates, into that city of gold,--"where they need no candle, neither
+light of the sun, for the Lord God giveth them light." "So he can give
+me light here--or what's better than light," thought Nettie. "God isn't
+only out there, in all that beautiful moonlight world--he is here in my
+poor little attic too; and he will take just as good care of me as he
+does of the birds, and better, for I am his child, and they are only his
+beautiful little servants."
+
+Nettie's fear was gone. She prayed her evening prayer; she trusted
+herself to the Lord Jesus to take care of her; and then she undressed
+herself and lay down and went to sleep, just as quietly as any sparrow
+of them all with its head under its wing.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+NETTIE'S GARRET.
+
+
+Nettie's attic grew to be a good place to her. She never heard the least
+sound of rats; and it was so nicely out of the way. Barry never came up
+there, and there she could not even hear the voices of her father and
+Mr. Lumber. She had a tired time of it down stairs.
+
+That first afternoon was a good specimen of the way things went on.
+Nettie's mornings were always spent at school; Mrs. Mathieson would have
+that, as she said, whether she could get along without Nettie or no.
+From the time Nettie got home till she went to bed, she was as busy as
+she could be. There was so much bread to make, and so much beef and pork
+to boil, and so much washing of pots and kettles; and at meal times
+there were very often cakes to fry, besides all the other preparations.
+Mr. Mathieson seemed to have made up his mind that his lodger's rent
+should all go to the table and be eaten up immediately; but the
+difficulty was to make as much as he expected of it in that line; for
+now he brought none of his own earnings home, and Mrs. Mathieson had
+more than a sad guess where they went. By degrees he came to be very
+little at home in the evenings, and he carried off Barry with him.
+Nettie saw her mother burdened with a great outward and inward care at
+once, and stood in the breach all she could. She worked to the extent of
+her strength, and beyond it, in the endless getting and clearing away of
+meals; and watching every chance, when the men were out of the way, she
+would coax her mother to sit down and read a chapter in her Testament.
+"It will rest you so, mother," Nettie would say; "and I will make the
+bread just as soon as I get the dishes done. Do let me! I like to do
+it."
+
+Sometimes Mrs. Mathieson could not be persuaded; sometimes she would
+yield, in a despondent kind of way, and sit down with her Testament and
+look at it as if neither there nor anywhere else in the universe could
+she find rest or comfort any more.
+
+"It don't signify, child," she said, one afternoon when Nettie had been
+urging her to sit down and read. "I haven't the heart to do anything.
+We're all driving to rack and ruin just as fast as we can go."
+
+"Oh no, mother!" said Nettie. "I don't think we are."
+
+"I am sure of it. I see it coming every day. Every day it is a little
+worse; and Barry is going along with your father; and they are
+destroying me among them, body and soul too."
+
+"No, mother," said Nettie, "I don't think that. I have prayed the Lord
+Jesus, and you know he has promised to hear prayer; and I know we are
+not going to ruin."
+
+"_You_ are not, child, I believe; but you are the only one of us that
+isn't. I wish I was dead, to be out of my misery!"
+
+"Sit down, mother, and read a little bit; and don't talk so. Do, mother!
+It will be an hour and more yet to supper, and I'll get it ready. You
+sit down and read, and I'll make the shortcakes. Do, mother! and you'll
+feel better."
+
+It was half despair and half persuasion that made her do it; but Mrs.
+Mathieson did sit down by the open window and take her Testament; and
+Nettie flew quietly about, making her shortcakes and making up the fire
+and setting the table, and through it all casting many a loving glance
+over to the open book in her mother's hand and the weary, stony face
+that was bent over it. Nettie had not said how her own back was aching,
+and she forgot it almost in her business and her thoughts; though by the
+time her work was done her head was aching wearily too. But cakes and
+table and fire and everything else were in readiness; and Nettie stole
+up behind her mother and leaned over her shoulder; leaned a little
+heavily.
+
+[1] "Don't that chapter comfort you, mother?" she whispered.
+
+[1] See Frontispiece.
+
+"No. It don't seem to me as I've got any feeling left," said Mrs.
+Mathieson. It was the fourth chapter of John at which they were both
+looking.
+
+"Don't it comfort you to read of Jesus being wearied?" Nettie went on,
+her head lying on her mother's shoulder.
+
+"Why should it, child?"
+
+"I like to read it," said Nettie. "Then I know he knows how I feel
+sometimes."
+
+"God knows everything, Nettie."
+
+"Yes, mother; but then Jesus _felt_ it. 'He took our infirmities.' And
+oh, mother, don't you love that tenth verse?--and the thirteenth and
+fourteenth?"
+
+Mrs. Mathieson looked at it, silently; then she said, "I don't rightly
+understand it, Nettie. I suppose I ought to do so,--but I don't."
+
+"Why, mother! I understand it. It means, that if Jesus makes you happy,
+you'll never be unhappy again. 'Whosoever drinketh of the water that I
+shall give him, _shall never thirst_,'--don't you see, mother? 'Shall
+never thirst,'--he will have enough, and be satisfied."
+
+"How do you know it, Nettie?" her mother asked, in a puzzled kind of
+way.
+
+"I know it, mother, because Jesus has given that living water to me."
+
+"He never gave it to me," said Mrs. Mathieson, in the same tone.
+
+"But he _will_, mother. Look up there--oh, how I love that tenth
+verse!--'If thou knewest the gift of God, and who it is that saith to
+thee, Give me to drink; thou wouldest have asked of him, and he would
+have given thee living water.' See, mother,--he will give, if we ask."
+
+"And do you feel so, Nettie?--that you have enough, and are satisfied
+with your life every day?"
+
+"Yes, mother," Nettie said, quietly; "I am very happy. I am happy all
+the time; because I think that Jesus is with me everywhere; when I'm
+upstairs, and when I'm busy here, and when I'm at school, and when I go
+to the spring; and all times. And that makes me very happy."
+
+"And don't you wish for anything you haven't got?" said her mother.
+
+"Yes, one thing," said Nettie. "I just wish that you and father and
+Barry may be so happy too; and I believe that's coming; for I've prayed
+the Lord, and I believe he will give it to me. I want it for other
+people too. I often think, when I am looking at somebody, of those
+words--'If thou knewest the gift of God, thou wouldest have asked of
+him, and he would have given thee living water.'"
+
+With that, Mrs. Mathieson cast down her book and burst into such a
+passion of weeping that Nettie was frightened. It was like the breaking
+up of an icy winter. She flung her apron over her head and sobbed aloud;
+till hearing the steps of the men upon the staircase she rushed off to
+Barry's room, and presently got quiet, for she came out to supper as if
+nothing had happened.
+
+From that time there was a gentler mood upon her mother, Nettie saw;
+though she looked weary and careworn as ever, there was not now often
+the hard, dogged look which had been wont to be there for months past.
+Nettie had no difficulty to get her to read the Testament; and of all
+things, what she liked was to get a quiet hour of an evening alone with
+Nettie and hear her sing hymns. But both Nettie and she had a great
+deal, as Mrs. Mathieson said, "to put up with."
+
+As weeks went on, the father of the family was more and more out at
+nights, and less and less agreeable when he was at home. He and his
+friend Lumber helped each other in mischief: they went together to
+Jackson's shop and spent time in lounging and gossiping and talking
+politics there; and what was worse, they made the time and the politics
+go down with draughts of liquor. Less and less money came to Mrs.
+Mathieson's hand; but her husband always required what he called a good
+meal to be ready for him and his lodger whenever he came home, and made
+no difference in his expectations whether he had provided the means or
+not. The lodger's rent and board had been at first given for the
+household daily expenses; but then Mr. Mathieson began to pay over a
+smaller sum, saying that it was all that was due; and Mrs. Mathieson
+suspected that the rest had been paid away already for brandy. Then Mr.
+Mathieson told her to trade at Jackson's on account, and he would settle
+the bill. Mrs. Mathieson held off from this as long as it was possible.
+She and Nettie did their very best to make the little that was given
+them go a good way; they wasted not a crumb nor a penny, and did not
+spend on themselves what they really wanted; that they might not have
+the fearful storm of anger which was sure to come if the dinner was not
+plentiful and the supper did not please the taste of Mr. Mathieson and
+his lodger. By degrees it came to be very customary for Mrs. Mathieson
+and Nettie to make their meal of porridge and bread, after all the more
+savoury food had been devoured by the others; and many a weary patch and
+darn filled the night hours because they had not money to buy a cheap
+dress or two. Nettie bore it very patiently. Mrs. Mathieson was
+sometimes impatient.
+
+"This wont last me through the week, to get the things you want," she
+said one Saturday to her husband, when he gave her what he said was
+Lumber's payment to him.
+
+"You'll have to make it last," said he, gruffly.
+
+"Will you tell me how I'm going to do that? Here isn't more than half
+what you gave me at first."
+
+"Send to Jackson's for what you want!" he roared at her; "didn't I tell
+you so? and don't come bothering me with your noise."
+
+"When will you pay Jackson?"
+
+"I'll pay you first!" he said, with an oath, and very violently. It was
+a ruder word than he had ever said to her before, and Mrs. Mathieson was
+staggered for a moment by it; but there was another word she was
+determined to say.
+
+"You may do what you like to me," she said, doggedly; "but I should
+think you would see for yourself that Nettie has too much to get along
+with. She is getting just as thin and pale as she can be."
+
+"That's just your fool's nonsense!" said Mr. Mathieson; but he spoke it
+more quietly. Nettie just then entered the room.
+
+"Here, Nettie, what ails you? Come here. Let's look at you. Aint you as
+strong as ever you was? Here's your mother says you're getting puny."
+
+Nettie's smile and answer were so placid and untroubled, and the little
+colour that rose in her cheeks at her father's question made her look so
+fresh and well, that he was quieted. He drew her to his arms, for his
+gentle dutiful little daughter had a place in his respect and affection
+both, though he did not often show it very broadly; but now he kissed
+her.
+
+"There!" said he; "don't you go to growing thin and weak without telling
+me, for I don't like such doings. You tell me when you want anything."
+But with that, Mr. Mathieson got up and went off, out of the house; and
+Nettie had small chance to tell him if she wanted anything. However,
+this little word and kiss were a great comfort and pleasure to her. It
+was the last she had from him in a good while.
+
+Nettie, however, was not working for praise or kisses, and very little
+of either she got. Generally her father was rough, imperious,
+impatient, speaking fast enough if anything went wrong, but very sparing
+in expressions of pleasure. Sometimes a blessing did come upon her from
+the very depth of Mrs. Mathieson's heart, and went straight to Nettie's;
+but it was for another blessing she laboured, and prayed, and waited.
+
+So weeks went by. So her patient little feet went up and down the stairs
+with pails of water from the spring; and her hands made bread and baked
+cakes, and set rooms in order; and it was Nettie always who went to Mr.
+Jackson's for meal and treacle, and to Mrs. Auguste's, the little
+Frenchwoman's, as she was called, for a loaf when they were now and then
+out of bread. And with her mornings spent at school, Nettie's days were
+very busy ones; and the feet that at night mounted the steps to her
+attic room were aching and tired enough. All the more that now Nettie
+and her mother lived half the time on porridge; all the provision
+they dared make of other things being quite consumed by the three hearty
+appetites that were before them at the meal. And Nettie's appetite was
+not at all hearty, and sometimes she could hardly eat at all.
+
+As the summer passed away it began to grow cold, too, up in her garret.
+Nettie had never thought of that. As long as the summer sun warmed the
+roof well in the day, and only the soft summer wind played in and out of
+her window at night, it was all very well; and Nettie thought her
+sleeping-chamber was the best in the whole house, for it was nearest the
+sky. But August departed with its sunny days, and September grew cool at
+evening; and October brought still sunny days, it is true, but the
+nights had a clear sharp frost in them; and Nettie was obliged to cover
+herself up warm in bed and look at the moonlight and the stars as she
+could see them through the little square opening left by the shutter.
+The stars looked very lovely to Nettie, when they peeped at her so, in
+her bed, out of their high heaven; and she was very content.
+
+Then came November; and the winds began to come into the garret, not
+only through the open window, but through every crack between two
+boards. The whole garret was filled with the winds, Nettie thought. It
+was hard managing then. Shutting the shutter would bar out the stars,
+but not the wind, she found; and to keep from being quite chilled
+through at her times of prayer morning and evening, Nettie used to take
+the blanket and coverlets from the bed and wrap herself in them. It was
+all she could do. Still, she forgot the inconveniences; and her little
+garret chamber seemed to Nettie very near heaven, as well as near the
+sky.
+
+But all this way of life did not make her grow strong, nor rosy; and
+though Nettie never told her father that she wanted anything, her
+mother's heart measured the times when it ought to be told.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+THE BROWN CLOAK IN NOVEMBER.
+
+
+November days drew toward an end; December was near. One afternoon Mrs.
+Mathieson, wanting Nettie, went to the foot of the garret stairs to call
+her, and stopped, hearing Nettie's voice singing. It was a clear,
+bird-like voice, and Mrs. Mathieson listened; at first she could not
+distinguish the words, but then came a refrain which was plain enough.
+
+    "Glory, glory, glory, glory,
+       Glory be to God on high,
+     Glory, glory, glory, glory,
+       Sing his praises through the sky;
+     Glory, glory, glory, glory,
+       Glory to the Father give,
+     Glory, glory, glory, glory,
+       Sing his praises all that live."
+
+Mrs. Mathieson's heart gave way. She sat down on the lowest step and
+cried, for very soreness of heart. But work must be done; and when the
+song had ceased, for it went on some time, Mrs. Mathieson wiped her
+tears with her apron and called, "Nettie!"
+
+"Yes, mother. Coming."
+
+"Fetch down your school-cloak, child."
+
+She went back to her room, and presently Nettie came in with the cloak,
+looking placid as usual, but very pale.
+
+"Are you singing up there to keep yourself warm, child?"
+
+"Well, mother, I don't know but it does," Nettie answered, smiling. "My
+garret did seem to me full of glory just now; and it often does,
+mother."
+
+"The Lord save us!" exclaimed Mrs. Mathieson, bursting into tears again.
+"I believe you're in a way to be going above, before my face!"
+
+"Now, mother, what sort of a way is that of talking?" said Nettie,
+looking troubled. "You know I can't die till Jesus bids me; and I don't
+think he is going to take me now. What did you want me to do?"
+
+"Nothing. You aint fit. I must go and do it myself."
+
+"Yes I am fit. I like to do it," said Nettie. "What is it, mother?"
+
+"Somebody's got to go to Mr. Jackson's--but you aint fit, child; you eat
+next to none at noon. You can't live on porridge."
+
+"I like it, mother; but I wasn't hungry. What's wanting from Jackson's?"
+
+Nettie put on her cloak, and took her basket and went out. It was after
+sundown already, and a keen wind swept through the village street, and
+swept through Nettie's brown cloak too, tight as she wrapped it about
+her. But though she was cold and blue, and the wind seemed to go through
+_her_ as well as the cloak, Nettie was thinking of something else. She
+knew that her mother had eaten a very scanty, poor sort of dinner, as
+well as herself, and that _she_ often looked pale and wan; and Nettie
+was almost ready to wish she had not given the last penny of her
+shilling, on Sunday, to the missionary-box. When her father had given
+her the coin, she had meant then to keep it to buy something now and
+then for her mother; but it was not immediately needed, and one by one
+the pennies had gone to buy tracts, or as a mite to the fund for sending
+Bibles or missionaries to those who did not know how to sing Nettie's
+song of "glory."
+
+She wondered to herself now if she had done quite right; she could not
+help thinking that if she had one penny she could buy a smoked herring,
+which, with a bit of bread and tea, would make a comfortable supper for
+her mother, which she could relish. Had she done right? But one more
+thought of the children and grown people who have not the Bible,--who
+know nothing of the golden city with its gates of pearl, and are nowise
+fit to enter by those pure entrances where "nothing that defileth" can
+go in,--and Nettie wished no more for a penny back that she had given to
+bring them there. She hugged herself in her cloak, and as she went quick
+along the darkening ways, the light from that city seemed to shine in
+her heart and make warmth through the cold. She was almost sorry to go
+to Mr. Jackson's shop; it had grown rather a disagreeable place to her
+lately. It was half full of people, as usual at that hour.
+
+"What do you want?" said Mr. Jackson, rather curtly, when Nettie's turn
+came and she had told her errand. "What!" he exclaimed, "seven pounds of
+meal and a pound of butter, and two pounds of sugar! Well, you tell your
+father that I should like to have my bill settled; it's all drawn up,
+you see, and I don't like to open a new account till it's all square."
+
+He turned away immediately to another customer, and Nettie felt she had
+got her answer. She stood a moment, very disappointed, and a little
+mortified, and somewhat downhearted. What should they do for supper? and
+what a storm there would be when her father heard about all this and
+found nothing but bread and tea on the table. Slowly Nettie turned away,
+and slowly made the few steps from the door to the corner. She felt very
+blue indeed; coming out of the warm store the chill wind made her
+shiver. Just at the corner somebody stopped her.
+
+"Nettie!" said the voice of the little French baker, "what ails you? you
+look not well."
+
+Nettie gave her a grateful smile, and said she was well.
+
+"You look not like it," said Mme. Auguste; "you look as if the wind
+might carry you off before you get home. Come to my house--I want to see
+you in the light."
+
+"I haven't time; I must go home to mother, Mrs. August."
+
+"Yes, I know! You will go home all the faster for coming this way first.
+You have not been to see me in these three or four weeks."
+
+She carried Nettie along with her; it was but a step, and Nettie did not
+feel capable of resisting anything. The little Frenchwoman put her into
+the shop before her, made her sit down, and lighted a candle. The shop
+was nice and warm and full of the savoury smell of fresh baking.
+
+"We have made our own bread lately," said Nettie, in answer to the
+charge of not coming there.
+
+"Do you make it good?" said Mme. Auguste.
+
+"It isn't like yours, Mrs. August," said Nettie, smiling.
+
+"If you will come and live with me next summer, I will teach you how to
+do some things; and you shall not look so blue neither. Have you had
+your supper?"
+
+"No, and I am just going home to get supper. I must go, Mrs. August."
+
+"You come in here," said the Frenchwoman; "you are my prisoner. I am all
+alone, and I want somebody for company. You take off your cloak, Nettie,
+and I shall give you something to keep the wind out. You do what I bid
+you!"
+
+Nettie felt too cold and weak to make any ado about complying, unless
+duty had forbade; and she thought there was time enough yet. She let her
+cloak drop, and took off her hood. The little back room to which Mme.
+Auguste had brought her was only a trifle bigger than the bit of a shop;
+but it was as cozy as it was little. A tiny stove warmed it, and kept
+warm, too, a tiny iron pot and tea-kettle which were steaming away. The
+bed was at one end, draped nicely with red curtains; there was a little
+looking-glass, and some prints in frames round the walls; there was
+Madame's little table covered with a purple cloth, and with her work and
+a small clock and various pretty things on it. Mme. Auguste had gone to
+a cupboard in the wall, and taken out a couple of plates and little
+bowls, which she set on a little round stand; and then lifting the cover
+of the pot on the stove, she ladled out a bowlful of what was in it, and
+gave it to Nettie with one of her own nice crisp rolls.
+
+"Eat that!" she said. "I shan't let you go home till you have swallowed
+that to keep the cold out. It makes me all freeze to look at you."
+
+So she filled her own bowl, and made good play with her spoon, while
+between spoonfuls she looked at Nettie; and the good little woman smiled
+in her heart to see how easy it was for Nettie to obey her. The savoury,
+simple, comforting broth she had set before her was the best thing to
+the child's delicate stomach that she had tasted for many a day.
+
+"Is it good?" said the Frenchwoman when Nettie's bowl was half empty.
+
+"It's so good!" said Nettie. "I didn't know I was so hungry."
+
+"Now you will not feel the cold so," said the Frenchwoman, "and you will
+go back quicker. Do you like my _riz-au-gras_?"
+
+"_What_ is it, ma'am?" said Nettie.
+
+The Frenchwoman laughed, and made Nettie say it over till she could
+pronounce the words. "Now you like it," she said; "that is a French
+dish. Do you think Mrs. Mat'ieson would like it?"
+
+"I am sure she would!" said Nettie. "But I don't know how to make it."
+
+"You shall come here and I will teach it to you. And now you shall carry
+a little home to your mother and ask her if she will do the honour to a
+French dish to approve it. It do not cost anything. I cannot sell much
+bread the winters; I live on what cost me nothing."
+
+While saying this, Mme. Auguste had filled a little pail with the
+_riz-au-gras_, and put a couple of her rolls along with it. "It must
+have the French bread," she said; and she gave it to Nettie, who looked
+quite cheered up, and very grateful.
+
+"You are a good little girl!" she said. "How keep you always your face
+looking so happy? There is always one little streak of sunshine
+here"--drawing her finger across above Nettie's eyebrows--"and another
+here,"--and her finger passed over the line of Nettie's lips.
+
+"That's because I _am_ happy, Mrs. August."
+
+"_Always?_"
+
+"Yes, always."
+
+"What makes you so happy always? you was just the same in the cold
+winter out there, as when you was eating my _riz-au-gras_. Now me, I am
+cross in the cold, and not happy."
+
+But the Frenchwoman saw a deeper light come into Nettie's eyes as she
+answered, "It is because I love the Lord Jesus, Mrs. August, and he
+makes me happy."
+
+"_You?_" said Madame. "My child!--What do you say, Nettie? I think not I
+have heard you right."
+
+"Yes, Mrs. August, I am happy because I love the Lord Jesus. I know he
+loves me, and he will take me to be with him."
+
+"Not just yet," said the Frenchwoman, "I hope! Well, I wish I was so
+happy as you, Nettie. Good-bye!"
+
+Nettie ran home, more comforted by her good supper, and more thankful to
+the goodness of God in giving it, and happy in the feeling of his
+goodness than can be told. And very, very glad she was of that little
+tin pail in her hand she knew her mother needed. Mrs. Mathieson had time
+to eat the rice broth before her husband came in.
+
+"She said she would show me how to make it," said Nettie, "and it don't
+cost anything."
+
+"Why, it's just rice and--_what_ is it? I don't see," said Mrs.
+Mathieson. "It isn't rice and milk."
+
+Nettie laughed at her mother. "Mrs. August didn't tell. She called it
+reeso---- I forget what she called it!"
+
+"It's the best thing I ever saw," said Mrs. Mathieson. "There--put the
+pail away. Your father's coming."
+
+He was in a terrible humour, as they expected; and Nettie and her mother
+had a sad evening of it. And the same sort of thing lasted for several
+days. Mrs. Mathieson hoped that perhaps Mr. Lumber would take into his
+head to seek lodgings somewhere else; or at least that Mathieson would
+have been shamed into paying Jackson's bill; but neither thing happened.
+Mr. Lumber found his quarters too comfortable; and Mr. Mathieson spent
+too much of his earnings on drink to find the amount necessary to clear
+off the scores at the grocer's shop.
+
+From that time, as they could run up no new account, the family were
+obliged to live on what they could immediately pay for. That was seldom
+a sufficient supply; and so, in dread of the storms that came whenever
+their wants touched Mr. Mathieson's own comfort, Nettie and her mother
+denied themselves constantly what they very much needed. The old can
+sometimes bear this better than the young. Nettie grew more delicate,
+more thin, and more feeble, every day. It troubled her mother sadly. Mr.
+Mathieson could not be made to see it. Indeed he was little at home
+except when he was eating.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+THE NEW BLANKET.
+
+
+Nettie had been in Barry's room one evening, putting it to rights;
+through the busy day it had somehow been neglected. Mrs. Mathieson's
+heart was so heavy that her work dragged; and when Nettie came out and
+sat down to her Sunday-school lesson, her mother kept watching her for a
+long time with a dull, listless face, quite still and idle. The child's
+face was busy over her Bible, and Mrs. Mathieson did not disturb her,
+till Nettie lifted her head to glance at the clock. Then the bitterness
+of her mother's heart broke out.
+
+"He's a ruined man!" she exclaimed, in her despair. "He's a ruined man!
+he's taking to drinking more and more. It's all over with him--and with
+us."
+
+"No, mother," said Nettie, gently,--"I hope not. There's better times
+coming, mother. God _never_ forsakes those that trust in him. He has
+promised to hear prayer; and I have prayed to him, and I feel sure he
+will save us."
+
+Mrs. Mathieson was weeping bitterly.
+
+"So don't you cry, mother. Trust! 'Only believe'--don't you remember
+Jesus said that? Just believe him, mother. I do."
+
+And proving how true she spoke--how steadfast and firm was the faith she
+professed, with that, as Nettie got up to put away her books, her lips
+burst forth into song; and never more clear nor more sweet than she sung
+then, sounded the wild sweet notes that belong to the words--favourites
+with her. There was no doubt in her voice at all.
+
+    "Great spoils I shall win, from death, hell, and sin,
+     'Midst outward afflictions shall feel Christ within;
+     And when I'm to die, Receive me, I'll cry;
+     For Jesus hath loved me, I cannot tell why."
+
+Mrs. Mathieson sobbed at first; but there came a great quietness over
+her; and as the clear beautiful strain came to an end, she rose up,
+threw her apron over her face, and knelt quietly down by the side of
+her bed; putting her face in her hands. Nettie stood and looked at her;
+then turned and went up the stair to her own praying-place; feeling in
+her heart as if instead of two weary feet she had had "wings as angels,"
+to mount up literally. She knew that part of her prayer was getting its
+answer. She knew by the manner of her mother, that it was in no
+bitterness and despair but in the humbleness of a bowed heart that she
+had knelt down; and Nettie's slow little feet kept company with a most
+bounding spirit. She went to bed and covered herself up, not to sleep,
+but because it was too cold to be in the garret a moment uncovered; and
+lay there broad awake, "making melody in her heart to the Lord."
+
+It was very cold up in Nettie's garret now; the winter had moved on into
+the latter part of December, and the frosts were very keen; and the
+winter winds seem to come in at one end of the attic and to just sweep
+through to the other, bringing all except the snow with them. Even the
+snow often drifted in through the cracks of the rough wainscot board,
+or under the shutter, and lay in little white streaks or heaps on the
+floor, and never melted. To-night there was no wind, and Nettie had left
+her shutter open that she might see the stars as she lay in bed. It did
+not make much difference in the feeling of the place, for it was about
+as cold inside as out; and the stars were great friends of Nettie.
+To-night she lay and watched them, blinking down at her through her
+garret window with their quiet eyes; they were always silent witnesses
+to her of the beauty and purity of heaven, and reminders too of that eye
+that never sleeps and that hand that planted and upholds all. How bright
+they looked down to-night! It was very cold, and lying awake made Nettie
+colder; she shivered sometimes under all her coverings; still she lay
+looking at the stars in that square patch of sky that her shutter
+opening gave her to see, and thinking of the golden city. "They shall
+hunger no more, neither thirst any more; neither shall the sun light on
+them, nor any heat. For the lamb which is in the midst of the throne
+shall feed them, and shall lead them unto living fountains of waters:
+and God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes." "There shall be no
+more curse; but the throne of God and of the Lamb shall be in it, and
+his servants shall serve him."
+
+"His servants shall serve him"--thought Nettie; "and mother will be
+there,--and father will be there, and Barry,--and I shall be there! and
+then I shall be happy. And I am happy now. 'Blessed be the Lord, which
+hath not turned away my prayer, nor his mercy from me!'"--And if that
+verse went through Nettie's head once, it did fifty times. So did this
+one, which the quiet stars seemed to repeat and whisper to her, "The
+Lord redeemeth the soul of his servants, and none of them that trust in
+him shall be desolate." And though now and then a shiver passed over
+Nettie's shoulders, with the cold, she was ready to sing for very
+gladness and fulness of heart.
+
+But lying awake and shivering did not do Nettie's little body any good;
+she looked so very white the next day, that it caught even Mr.
+Mathieson's attention. He reached out his arm and drew Nettie toward
+him, as she was passing between the cupboard and the table. Then he
+looked at her, but he did not say how she looked.
+
+"Do you know day after to-morrow is Christmas day?" said he.
+
+"Yes, I know. It's the day when Christ was born," said Nettie.
+
+"Well, I don't know anything about that," said her father; "but what I
+mean is, that a week after is New Year. What would you like me to give
+you, Nettie,--hey?"
+
+Nettie stood still for a moment, then her eyes lighted up.
+
+"Will you give it to me, father, if I tell you?"
+
+"I don't know. If it is not extravagant, perhaps I will."
+
+"It will not cost much," said Nettie, earnestly. "Will you give me what
+I choose, father, if it does not cost too much?"
+
+"I suppose I will. What is it?"
+
+"Father, you wont be displeased?"
+
+"Not I!" said Mr. Mathieson, drawing Nettie's little form tighter in his
+grasp; he thought he had never felt it so slight and thin before.
+
+"Father, I am going to ask you a great thing!--to go to church with me
+New Year's day."
+
+"To church!" said her father, frowning; but he remembered his promise,
+and he felt Nettie in his arms yet. "What on earth good will that do
+you?"
+
+"A great deal of good. It would please me so much, father."
+
+"What do you want me to go to church for?" said Mr. Mathieson, not sure
+yet what humour he was going to be in.
+
+"To thank God, father, that there was a Christmas; when Jesus came, that
+we might have a New Year."
+
+"What? what?" said Mr. Mathieson. "What are you talking about?"
+
+"Because, father," said Nettie, trembling, and seizing her chance,
+"since Jesus loved us and came and died for us, we all may have a New
+Year of glory. I shall, father; and I want you too. Oh do, father!" and
+Nettie burst into tears. Mr. Mathieson held her fast, and his face
+showed a succession of changes for a minute or so. But she presently
+raised her head from his shoulder, where it had sunk, and kissed him,
+and said--
+
+"May I have what I want, father?"
+
+"Yes--go along," said Mr. Mathieson. "I should like to know how to
+refuse you, though. But, Nettie, don't you want me to give you anything
+else?"
+
+"Nothing else!" she told him, with her face all shining with joy. Mr.
+Mathieson looked at her and seemed very thoughtful all supper time.
+
+"Can't you strengthen that child up a bit?" he said to his wife
+afterwards. "She does too much."
+
+"She does as little as I can help," said Mrs. Mathieson; "but she is
+always at something. I am afraid her room is too cold o' nights. She
+aint fit to bear it. It's bitter up there."
+
+"Give her another blanket or quilt, then," said her husband. "I should
+think you would see to that. Does she say she is cold?"
+
+"No,--never except sometimes when I see her looking blue, and ask her."
+
+"And what does she say then?"
+
+"She says sometimes she is a little cold."
+
+"Well, do put something more over her, and have no more of it!" said her
+husband, violently. "Sit still and let the child be cold, when another
+covering would make it all right!" And he ended with swearing at her.
+
+Mrs. Mathieson did not dare to tell him that Nettie's food was not of a
+sufficiently nourishing and relishing kind; she knew what the answer to
+that would be; and she feared that a word more about Nettie's
+sleeping-room would be thought an attack upon Mr. Lumber's being in the
+house. So she was silent.
+
+But there came home something for Nettie in the course of the Christmas
+week, which comforted her a little, and perhaps quieted Mr. Mathieson
+too. He brought with him, on coming home to supper one evening, a great
+thick roll of a bundle, and put it in Nettie's arms, telling her that
+was for her New Year.
+
+"For me!" said Nettie, the colour starting a little into her cheeks.
+
+"Yes, for you. Open it, and see."
+
+So Nettie did, with some trouble, and there tumbled out upon the floor a
+great heavy warm blanket, new from the shop. Mr. Mathieson thought the
+pink in her cheeks was the prettiest thing he had seen in a long while.
+
+"Is this for _me_, father?"
+
+"I mean it to be so. See if it will go on that bed of yours and keep you
+warm."
+
+Nettie gave her father some very hearty thanks, which he took in a
+silent, pleased way; and then she hastened off with her blanket
+upstairs. How thick and warm it was! and how nicely it would keep her
+comfortable when she knelt, all wrapped up in it, on that cold floor.
+For a little while it would; not even a warm blanket would keep her from
+the cold more than a little while at a time up there. But Nettie tried
+its powers the first thing she did.
+
+Did Mr. Mathieson mean the blanket to take the place of his promise?
+Nettie thought of that, but like a wise child she said nothing at all
+till the Sunday morning came. Then, before she set off for
+Sunday-school, she came to her father's elbow.
+
+"Father, I'll be home a quarter after ten; will you be ready then?"
+
+"Ready for what?" said Mr. Mathieson.
+
+"For my New Year's," said Nettie. "You know you promised I should go to
+church with you."
+
+"Did I? And aint you going to take the blanket for your New Year's, and
+let me off, Nettie?"
+
+"No, father, to be sure not. I'll be home at a quarter past; please
+don't forget." And Nettie went off to school very thankful and happy,
+for her father's tone was not unkind. How glad she was New Year's day
+had come on Sunday.
+
+Mr. Mathieson was as good as his word. He was ready at the time, and
+they walked to the church together. That was a great day to Nettie. Her
+father and mother going to church in company with her and with each
+other. But nobody that saw her sober sweet little face would have
+guessed how very full her heart was of prayer, even as they walked along
+the street among the rest of the people. And when they got to church, it
+seemed as if every word of the prayers and of the reading and of the
+hymns and of the sermon, struck on all Nettie's nerves of hearing and
+feeling. Would her father understand any of those sweet words? would he
+feel them? would they reach him? Nettie little thought that what he felt
+most, what _did_ reach him, though he did not thoroughly understand it,
+was the look of her own face; though she never but once dared turn it
+toward him. There was a little colour in it more than usual; her eye was
+deep in its earnestness; and the grave set of her little mouth was
+broken up now and then in a way that Mr. Mathieson wanted to watch
+better than the straight sides of her sun-bonnet would let him. Once he
+thought he saw something more.
+
+He walked home very soberly, and was a good deal on the silent order
+during the rest of the day. He did not go to church in the afternoon.
+But in the evening, as her mother was busy in and out getting supper
+ready, and Mr. Lumber had not come in, Mr. Mathieson called Nettie to
+his side.
+
+"What was you crying for in church this forenoon?" he said, low.
+
+"Crying!" said Nettie, surprised. "Was I crying?"
+
+"If it wasn't tears I saw dropping from under your hands on to the
+floor, it must have been some drops of rain that had got there, and I
+don't see how they could very well. There warn't no rain outside. What
+was it for, hey?"
+
+There came a great flush all over Nettie's face, and she did not at once
+speak.
+
+"Hey?--what was it for?"--repeated Mr. Mathieson.
+
+The flush passed away. Nettie spoke very low and with lips all of a
+quiver. "I remember. I was thinking, father, how 'all things are
+ready'--and I couldn't help wishing that you were ready too."
+
+"Ready for what?" said Mr. Mathieson, somewhat roughly. "All things
+ready for what?"
+
+"Ready for you," said Nettie. "Jesus is ready to love you, and calls
+you--and the angels are ready to rejoice for you--and I----"
+
+"Go on! What of you?"
+
+Nettie lifted her eyes to him. "I am ready to rejoice too, father." But
+the time of rejoicing was not yet. Nettie burst into tears.
+
+Mr. Mathieson was not angry, yet he flung away from her with a rude
+"Pshaw!" and that was all the answer she got. But the truth was, that
+there was something in Nettie's look, of tenderness, and purity, and
+trembling hope, that her father's heart could not bear to meet; and what
+is more, that he was never able to forget.
+
+Nettie went about her evening business helping her mother, and keeping
+back the tears which were very near again; and Mr. Mathieson began to
+talk with Mr. Lumber, and everything was to all appearance just as it
+had been hitherto. And so it went on after that.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+THE HOUSE-RAISING.[2]
+
+[2] A festival common in America on the completion of a house.
+
+
+It grew colder and colder in Nettie's garret--or else she grew thinner
+and felt it more. She certainly thought it was colder. The snow came,
+and piled a thick covering on the roof and stopped up some of the chinks
+in the clapboarding with its white caulking; and that made the place a
+little better; then the winds from off the snow-covered country were
+keen and bitter.
+
+Nettie's whole day was so busy that she had little time to think, except
+when she went upstairs at night; covered up there under her blankets and
+quilts, and looking up at the stars, she used to feel sadly that things
+were in a very bad way. Her father was out constantly o' nights, and
+they knew too surely where he spent them. He was not a confirmed
+drunkard yet; but how long would it take, at this rate? And that man
+Lumber leading him on, with a thicker head himself, and Barry following
+after! No seeming thought nor care for his wife and daughter and their
+comfort; it was with great difficulty they could get from him enough
+money for their daily needs; and to make that do, Nettie and her mother
+pinched and starved themselves. Often and often Nettie went to bed with
+an empty stomach, because she was not hearty enough to eat porridge or
+pork, and the men had not left enough of other viands for herself and
+her mother. And neither of them would pretend to want that little there
+was, for fear the other wanted it more.
+
+Her mother was patient and quiet now; not despairing, as a few months
+ago; and that was such joy to Nettie that she felt often much more like
+giving thanks than complaining. Yet she saw her mother toiling and
+insufficiently cared for, and she went to bed feeling very poor and thin
+herself; then Nettie used to look at the stars and remember the Lord's
+promises and the golden city, till at last she would go to sleep upon
+her pillow feeling the very richest little child in all the country.
+"They shall not be ashamed that wait for me"--was one word which was
+very often the last in her thoughts. Nettie had no comfort from her
+father in all the time between New Year and spring. Except one word.
+
+One morning she went to Barry secretly in his room, and asked him to
+bring the pail of water from the spring for her. Barry had no mind to
+the job.
+
+"Why can't mother do it?" he said, "if you can't?"
+
+"Mother is busy and hasn't a minute. I always do it for her."
+
+"Well, why can't you go on doing it? you're accustomed to it, you see,
+and I don't like going out so early," said Barry, stretching himself.
+
+"I would, and I wouldn't ask you; only, Barry, somehow I don't think I'm
+quite strong lately and I can hardly bring the pail, it's so heavy to
+me. I have to stop and rest ever so many times before I can get to the
+house with it."
+
+"Well, if you stop and rest, I suppose it wont hurt you," said Barry.
+"_I_ should want to stop and rest, too, myself."
+
+His little sister was turning away, giving it up; when she was met by
+her father who stepped in from the entry. He looked red with anger.
+
+"You take the pail and go get the water!" said he to his son; "and you
+hear me! don't you let Nettie bring in another pailful when you're at
+home, or I'll turn you out of the house. You lazy scoundrel! You don't
+deserve the bread you eat. Would you let her work for you, when you are
+as strong as sixty?"
+
+Barry's grumbled words in answer were so very unsatisfactory, that Mr.
+Mathieson in a rage advanced toward him with uplifted fist; but Nettie
+sprang in between and very nearly caught the blow that was meant for her
+brother.
+
+"Please, father, don't!" she cried; "please, father, don't be angry.
+Barry didn't think--he didn't"--
+
+"Why didn't he?" said Mr. Mathieson. "Great lazy rascal! He wants to be
+flogged."
+
+"Oh don't!" said Nettie,--"he didn't know why I asked him, or he
+wouldn't have refused me."
+
+"Why did you, then?"
+
+"Because it made my back ache so to bring it, I couldn't help asking
+him."
+
+"Did you ever ask him before?"
+
+"Never mind, please, father!" said Nettie, sweetly. "Just don't think
+about me, and don't be angry with Barry. It's no matter now."
+
+"Who does think about you? Your mother don't, or she would have seen to
+this before."
+
+"Mother didn't know my back ached. Father, you know she hasn't a minute,
+she is so busy getting breakfast in time; and she didn't know I wasn't
+strong enough. Father, don't tell her, please, I asked Barry. It would
+worry her so. Please don't, father."
+
+"_You_ think of folks, anyhow. You're a regular peacemaker!" exclaimed
+Mr. Mathieson as he turned away and left her. Nettie stood still, the
+flush paling on her cheek, her hand pressed to her side.
+
+"Am I that?" she thought. "Shall I be that? Oh Lord, my Saviour, my dear
+Redeemer, send thy peace here!"--She was still in the same place and
+position when Barry came in again.
+
+"It's wretched work!" he exclaimed, under his breath, for his father was
+in the next room. "It's as slippery as the plague, going down that path
+to the water--it's no use to have legs, for you can't hold up. I'm all
+froze stiff with the water I've spilled on me!"
+
+"I know it's very slippery," said Nettie.
+
+"And then you can't get at the water when you're there, without stepping
+into it--it's filled chuck full of snow and ice all over the edge. It's
+the most wretched work!"
+
+"I know it, Barry," said Nettie. "I am sorry you have to do it."
+
+"What did you make me do it for, then?" said he, angrily. "You got it
+your own way this time, but never mind,--I'll be up with you for it."
+
+"Barry," said his sister, "please do it just a little while for me, till
+I get stronger, and don't mind; and as soon as ever I can I'll do it
+again. But you don't know how it made me ache all through, bringing the
+pail up that path."
+
+"Stuff!" said Barry. And from that time, though he did not fail to bring
+the water in the morning, yet Nettie saw he owed her a grudge for it all
+the day afterward. He was almost always away with his father, and she
+had little chance to win him to better feeling.
+
+So the winter slowly passed and the spring came. Spring months came, at
+least; and now and then to be sure a sweet spring day, when all nature
+softened; the sun shone mildly, the birds sang, the air smelled sweet
+with the opening buds. Those days were lovely, and Nettie enjoyed them
+no one can tell how much. On her walk to school, it was so pleasant to
+be able to step slowly and not hasten to be out of the cold; and
+Nettie's feet did not feel ready for quick work now-a-days. It was so
+pleasant to hear the sparrows and other small birds, and to see them,
+with their cheery voices and sonsy little heads, busy and happy. And the
+soft air was very reviving too.
+
+Then at home the work was easier, a great deal; and in Nettie's garret
+the change was wonderful. There came hours when she could sit on the
+great chest under her window and look out, or kneel there and pray,
+without danger of catching her death of cold; and instead of that, the
+balmy perfumed spring breeze coming into her window, and the trees
+budding, and the grass on the fields and hills beginning to look green,
+and the sunlight soft and vapoury. Such an hour--or quarter of an
+hour--to Nettie was worth a great deal. Her weary little frame seemed to
+rest in it, and her mind rested too. For those days were full not only
+of the goodness of God, but of the promise of his goodness. Nettie read
+it, and thanked him. Yet things in the household were no better.
+
+One evening Nettie and her mother were sitting alone together. They were
+usually alone in the evenings, though not usually sitting down quietly
+with no work on hand. Nettie had her Sunday-school lesson, and was busy
+with that, on one side of the fire. Mrs. Mathieson on the other side sat
+and watched her. After a while Nettie looked up and saw her mother's
+gaze, no longer on her, fixed mournfully on the fire and looking through
+that at something else. Nettie read the look, and answered it after her
+own fashion. She closed her book and sang, to a very, very sweet,
+plaintive air,
+
+    "I heard the voice of Jesus say,
+       Come unto me and rest:
+     Lay down, thou weary one, lay down
+       Thy head upon my breast.
+     I came to Jesus as I was,
+       Weary, and worn, and sad,
+     I found in him a resting-place,
+       And he has made me glad.
+
+    "I heard the voice of Jesus say,
+       I am this dark world's light;
+     Look unto me--thy morn shall rise,
+       And all thy day be bright.
+     I looked to Jesus, and I found
+       In him my star, my sun;
+     And in that light of life I'll walk
+       Till travelling days are done."
+
+She sang two verses, clear, glad, and sweet, as Nettie always sang;
+then she paused and looked at her mother.
+
+"Do you keep up hope yet, Nettie?" said Mrs. Mathieson, sadly.
+
+"Yes, mother," Nettie said, quietly.
+
+"Mine gets beat out sometimes," said Mrs. Mathieson, drooping her head
+for an instant on her hands. "Your father's out every night now; and you
+know where he goes; and he cares less and less about anything else in
+the world but Jackson's store, and what he gets there, and the company
+he finds there. And he don't want much of being a ruined man."
+
+"Yes, mother. But the Bible says we must wait on the Lord."
+
+"Wait! yes, and I've waited; and I see you growing as thin as a shadow
+and as weak as a mouse; and your father don't see it; and he's let you
+sleep in that cold place up there all winter just to accommodate that
+Lumber!--I am sure he is well named."
+
+"O mother, my garret is nice now,--on the warm days. You can't think how
+pretty it is out of my window--prettier than any window in the house."
+
+"Outside, I dare say. It isn't a place fit for a cat to sleep on!"
+
+"Mother, it's a good place to me. I don't want a better place. I don't
+think anybody else has a place that seems so good to me; for mother,
+Jesus is always there."
+
+"I expect there'll be nothing else but heaven good enough for you after
+it!" said Mrs. Mathieson, with a sort of half sob. "I see you wasting
+away before my very eyes."
+
+"Mother," said Nettie, cheerfully, "how can you talk so? I feel
+well--except now and then."
+
+"If your father could only be made to see it!--but he can't see
+anything, nor hear anything. There's that house-raising to-morrow,
+Nettie--it's been on my mind this fortnight past, and it kills me."
+
+"Why, mother?"
+
+"I know how it will be," said Mrs. Mathieson; "they'll have a grand
+set-to after they get it up; and your father'll be in the first of it;
+and I somehow feel as if it would be the finishing of him. I wish
+almost he'd get sick--or anything, to keep him away. They make such a
+time after a house-raising."
+
+"O mother, don't wish that," said Nettie; but she began to think how it
+would be possible to withdraw her father from the frolic with which the
+day's business would be ended. Mr. Mathieson was a carpenter, and a fine
+workman; and always had plenty of work and was much looked up to among
+his fellows.
+
+Nettie began to think whether _she_ could make any effort to keep her
+father from the dangers into which he was so fond of plunging; hitherto
+she had done nothing but pray for him; could she do anything more, with
+any chance of good coming of it? She thought and thought; and resolved
+that she must try. It did not look hopeful; there was little she could
+urge to lure Mr. Mathieson from his drinking companions; nothing, except
+her own timid affection, and the one other thing it was possible to
+offer him,--a good supper. How to get that was not so easy; but she
+consulted with her mother.
+
+Mrs. Mathieson said she used in her younger days to know how to make
+waffles,[3] and Mr. Mathieson used to think they were the best things
+that ever were made; now if Mrs. Moss, a neighbour, would lend her
+waffle-iron, and she could get a few eggs,--she believed she could
+manage it still. "But we haven't the eggs, child," she said; "and I
+don't believe any power under heaven can get him to come away from that
+raising frolic."
+
+[3] _Waffles_, a species of sweet-cake used on such festivals in
+America.
+
+Nor did Nettie. It was to no power _under_ heaven that she trusted. But
+she must use her means. She easily got the iron from Mrs. Moss. Then she
+borrowed the eggs from Mme. Auguste, who in Lent time always had them;
+then she watched with grave eyes and many a heart prayer the while, the
+mixing and making of the waffles.
+
+"How do you manage the iron, mother?"
+
+"Why it is made hot," said Mrs. Mathieson, "very hot, and buttered; and
+then when the batter is light you pour it in, and clap it together, and
+put it in the stove."
+
+"But how can you pour it in, mother? I don't see how you can fill the
+iron."
+
+"Why, you can't, child; you fill one half, and shut it together: and
+when it bakes it rises up and fills the other half. You'll see."
+
+The first thing Nettie asked when she came home from school in the
+afternoon was, if the waffles were light? She never saw any look better,
+Mrs. Mathieson said; "but I forgot, child, we ought to have cinnamon and
+white sugar to eat on them;--it was so that your father used to admire
+them; they wont be waffles without sugar and cinnamon, I'm afraid he'll
+think;--but I don't believe you'll get him home to think anything about
+them."
+
+Mrs. Mathieson ended with a sigh. Nettie said nothing; she went round
+the room, putting it in particularly nice order; then set the table.
+When all that was right, she went up to her garret, and knelt down and
+prayed that God would take care of her and bless her errand. She put
+the whole matter in the Lord's hands; then she dressed herself in her
+hood and cloak and went down to her mother. Mr. Mathieson had not come
+home to dinner, being busy with the house-raising; so they had had no
+opportunity to invite him, and Nettie was now on her way to do it.
+
+"It's turned a bad afternoon; I'm afraid it aint fit for you to go,
+Nettie."
+
+"I don't mind," said Nettie. "May be I'll get some sugar and cinnamon,
+mother, before I come back."
+
+"Well, you know where the raising is? it's out on the Shallonway road,
+on beyond Mrs. August's, a good bit."
+
+Nettie nodded, and went out; and as the door closed on her grave, sweet
+little face, Mrs. Mathieson felt a great strain on her heart. She would
+have been glad to relieve herself by tears, but it was a dry pain that
+would not be relieved so. She went to the window, and looked out at the
+weather.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+THE WAFFLES.
+
+
+The early part of the day had been brilliant and beautiful; then,
+March-like, it had changed about, gathered up a whole sky-full of
+clouds, and turned at last to snowing. The large feathery flakes were
+falling now, fast; melting as fast as they fell; making everything wet
+and chill, in the air and under the foot. Nettie had no overshoes; she
+was accustomed to get her feet wet very often, so that was nothing new.
+She hugged herself in her brown cloak, on which the beautiful snowflakes
+rested white a moment and then melted away, gradually wetting the
+covering of her arms and shoulders in a way that would reach through by
+and by. Nettie thought little of it. What was she thinking of? She was
+comforting herself with the thought of that strong and blessed Friend
+who has promised to be always with his servants; and remembering his
+promise--"they shall not be ashamed that wait for me." What did the snow
+and the wet matter to Nettie? Yet she looked too much like a snow-flake
+herself when she reached Mr. Jackson's store and went in. The white
+frosting had lodged all round her old black silk hood and even edged the
+shoulders of her brown cloak; and the white little face within looked
+just as pure.
+
+Mr. Jackson looked at her with more than usual attention; and when
+Nettie asked him if he would let her have a shilling's worth of fine
+white sugar and cinnamon, and trust her till the next week for the
+money, he made not the slightest difficulty; but measured or weighed it
+out for her directly, and even said he would trust her for more than
+that. So Nettie thanked him, and went on to the less easy part of her
+errand. Her heart began to beat a little bit now.
+
+The feathery snowflakes fell thicker and made everything wetter than
+ever; it was very raw and chill, and few people were abroad. Nettie went
+on, past the little bakewoman's house, and past all the thickly built
+part of the village. Then came houses more scattered; large handsome
+houses with beautiful gardens and grounds and handsome garden palings
+along the roadside. Past one or two of these, and then there was a space
+of wild ground; and here Mr. Jackson was putting up a new house for
+himself, and meant to have a fine place. The wild bushes grew in a thick
+hedge along by the fence, but over the tops of them Nettie could see the
+new timbers of the frame that the carpenters had been raising that day.
+She went on till she came to an opening in the hedge and fence as well,
+and then the new building was close before her. The men were at work
+yet, finishing their day's business; the sound of hammering rung sharp
+on all sides of the frame; some were up on ladders, some were below.
+Nettie walked slowly up and then round the place, searching for her
+father. At last she found him. He and Barry, who was learning his
+father's trade, were on the ground at one side of the frame, busy as
+bees. Talking was going on roundly too, as well as hammering, and
+Nettie drew near and stood a few minutes without any one noticing her.
+She was not in a hurry to interrupt the work nor to tell her errand; she
+waited.
+
+Barry saw her first, but ungraciously would not speak to her nor for
+her. If she was there for anything, he said to himself, it was for some
+spoil-sport; and one pail of water a day was enough for him. Mr.
+Mathieson was looking the other way.
+
+"I say, Mathieson," called one of the men from the inside of the frame,
+"I s'pose 'taint worth carrying any of this stuff--Jackson'll have
+enough without it?" The words were explained to Nettie's horror by a jug
+in the man's hands, which he lifted to his lips.
+
+"Jackson will do something handsome in that way to-night," said Nettie's
+father; "or he'll not do as he's done by, such a confounded wet evening.
+But I've stood to my word, and I expect he'll stand to his'n."
+
+"He gave his word there was to be oysters, warn't it?" called another
+man from the top of the ladder.
+
+"Punch and oysters," said Mathieson, hammering away, "or I've raised
+the last frame I ever _will_ raise, for him. I expect he'll stand it."
+
+"Oysters aint much count," said another speaker. "I'd rather have a
+slice of good sweet pork any day."
+
+"Father," said Nettie. She had come close up to him, but she trembled.
+What possible chance could she have?
+
+"Hollo!" said Mr. Mathieson, turning suddenly. "Nettie!--what's to pay,
+girl?"
+
+He spoke roughly, and Nettie saw that his face was red. She trembled all
+over, but she spoke as bravely as she could.
+
+"Father, I am come to invite you home to supper to-night. Mother and I
+have a particular reason to want to see you. Will you come?"
+
+"Come where?" said Mr. Mathieson, but half understanding her.
+
+"Come home to tea, father. I came to ask you. Mother has made something
+you like."
+
+"I'm busy, child. Go home. I'm going to supper at Jackson's. Go home."
+He turned to his hammering again. But Nettie stood still in the snow
+and waited.
+
+"Father--" she said, after a minute, coming yet closer and speaking more
+low.
+
+"What? Aint you gone?" exclaimed Mr. Mathieson.
+
+"Father," said Nettie, softly, "mother has made waffles for you,--and
+you used to like them so much, she says; and they are light and
+beautiful and just ready to bake. Wont you come and have them with us?
+Mother says they'll be very nice."
+
+"Why didn't she make 'em another time," grumbled Barry,--"when we
+weren't going to punch and oysters? That's a better game!"
+
+If Mathieson had not been drinking he might have been touched by the
+sight of Nettie; so very white and delicate her little face looked,
+trembling and eager, within that border of her black hood on which the
+snow crystals lay, a very doubtful and unwholesome embroidery. She
+looked as if she was going to melt and disappear like one of them; and
+perhaps Mr. Mathieson did feel the effect of her presence, but he felt
+it only to be vexed and irritated; and Barry's suggestion fell into
+ready ground.
+
+"I tell you, go home!" he said, roughly. "What are you doing here? I
+tell you I'm _not_ coming home--I'm engaged to supper to-night, and I'm
+not going to miss it for any fool's nonsense. Go home!"
+
+Nettie's lip trembled, but that was all the outward show of the
+agitation within. She would not have delayed to obey, if her father had
+been quite himself; in his present condition she thought perhaps the
+next word might undo the last; she could not go without another trial.
+She waited an instant and again said softly and pleadingly, "Father,
+I've been and got cinnamon and sugar for you,--all ready."
+
+"Cinnamon and sugar"--he cursed with a great oath; and turning gave
+Nettie a violent push from him, that was half a blow. "Go home!" he
+repeated--"go home! and mind your business; and don't take it upon you
+to mind mine."
+
+Nettie reeled, staggered, and coming blindly against one or two timbers
+that lay on the ground, she fell heavily over them. Nobody saw her. Mr.
+Mathieson had not looked after giving her the push, and Barry had gone
+over to help somebody who called him. Nettie felt dizzy and sick; but
+she picked herself up, and wet and downhearted took the road home again.
+She was sadly downhearted. Her little bit of a castle in the air had
+tumbled all to pieces; and what was more, it had broken down upon her. A
+hope, faint indeed, but a hope, had kept her up through all her
+exertions that day; she felt very feeble, now the hope was gone; and
+that her father should have laid a rough hand on her, hurt her sorely.
+It hurt her bitterly; he had never done so before; and the cause why he
+came to do it now, rather made it more sorrowful than less so to
+Nettie's mind.
+
+She could not help a few salt tears from falling; and for a moment
+Nettie's faith trembled. Feeling weak, and broken, and miserable, the
+thought came coldly across her mind, _would_ the Lord not hear her,
+after all? It was but a moment of faith-trembling, but it made her
+sick. There was more to do that; the push and fall over the timbers had
+jarred her more than she knew at the moment. Nettie walked slowly back
+upon her road till she neared the shop of Mme. Auguste; then she felt
+herself growing very ill, and just reached the Frenchwoman's door to
+faint away on her steps.
+
+She did not remain there two seconds. Mme. Auguste had seen her go by an
+hour before, and now sat at her window looking out to amuse herself, but
+with a special intent to see and waylay that pale child on her repassing
+the house. She saw the little black hood reappear, and started to open
+the door, just in time to see Nettie fall down at her threshold. As
+instantly two willing arms were put under her, and lifted up the child
+and bore her into the house. Then Madame took off her hood, touched her
+lips with brandy and her brow with cologne water, and chafed her hands.
+She had lain Nettie on the floor of the inner room and put a pillow
+under her head; the strength which had brought her so far having failed
+there, and proved unequal to lift her again and put her on the bed.
+Nettie presently came to, opened her eyes, and looked at her nurse.
+
+"Why, my Nettie," said the little woman, "what is this, my child? what
+is the matter with you?"
+
+"I don't know," said Nettie, scarce over her breath.
+
+"Do you feel better now, _mon enfant_?"
+
+Nettie did not, and did not speak. Mme. Auguste mixed a spoonful of
+brandy and water and made her take it. That revived her a little.
+
+"I must get up and go home," were the first words she said.
+
+"You will lie still there, till I get some person to lift you on the
+bed," said the Frenchwoman, decidedly. "I have not more strength than a
+fly. What ails you, Nettie?"
+
+"I don't know."
+
+"Take one spoonful more. What did you have for dinner to-day?"
+
+"I don't know. But I must go home!" said Nettie, trying to raise
+herself. "Mother will want me--she'll want me."
+
+"You will lie still, like a good child," said her friend, gently putting
+her back on her pillow;--"and I will find some person to carry you
+home--or some person what will bring your mother here. I will go see if
+I can find some one now. You lie still, Nettie."
+
+Nettie lay still, feeling weak after that exertion of trying to raise
+herself. She was quite restored now, and her first thoughts were of
+grief, that she had for a moment, and under any discouragement, failed
+to trust fully the Lord's promises. She trusted them now. Let her father
+do what he would, let things look as dark as they might, Nettie felt
+sure that "the rewarder of them that diligently seek him" had a blessing
+in store for her. Bible words, sweet and long loved and rested on, came
+to her mind, and Nettie rested on them with perfect rest. "For he hath
+not despised nor abhorred the affliction of the afflicted; neither hath
+he hid his face from him; but when he cried unto him, _he heard_." "Our
+heart shall rejoice in him, _because we have trusted in his holy name_."
+Prayer for forgiveness, and a thanksgiving of great peace, filled
+Nettie's heart all the while the Frenchwoman was gone.
+
+Meanwhile Mme. Auguste had been looking into the street, and seeing
+nobody out in the wet snow, she rushed back to Nettie. Nettie was like
+herself now, only very pale.
+
+"I must have cut my lip somehow," she said; "there's blood on my
+handkerchief. How did I come in here?"
+
+"Blood!" said the Frenchwoman,--"where did you cut yourself, Nettie? Let
+me look!"
+
+Which she did, with a face so anxious and eager that Nettie smiled at
+her. Her own brow was as quiet and placid as ever it was.
+
+"How did I get in here, Mrs. August?"
+
+The Frenchwoman, however, did not answer her. Instead of which she went
+to her cupboard and got a cup and spoon, and then from a little saucepan
+on the stove dipped out some riz-au-gras again.
+
+"What did you have for dinner, Nettie? you did not tell me."
+
+"Not much--I wasn't hungry," said Nettie. "O, I must get up and go home
+to mother."
+
+"You shall eat something first," said her friend; and she raised
+Nettie's head upon another pillow, and began to feed her with the spoon.
+"It is good for you. You must take it. Where is your father? Don't talk,
+but tell me. I will do everything right."
+
+"He is at work on Mr. Jackson's new house."
+
+"Is he there to-day?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+Mme. Auguste gave her all the "broth" in the cup, then bade her keep
+still, and went to the shop window. It was time for the men to be
+quitting work, she knew; she watched for the carpenters to come. If they
+were not gone by already!--how should she know? Even as she thought
+this, a sound of rude steps and men's voices came from down the road;
+and the Frenchwoman went to her door and opened it. The men came along,
+a scattered group of four or five.
+
+"Is Mr. Mat'ieson there?" she said. Mme. Auguste hardly knew him by
+sight. "Men, I say! is Mr. Mat'ieson there?"
+
+"George, that's you; you're wanted," said one of the group, looking
+back; and a fine-looking, tall man paused at Madame's threshold.
+
+"Are you Mr. Mat'ieson?" said the Frenchwoman.
+
+"Yes, ma'am. That's my name."
+
+"Will you come in? I have something to speak to you. Your little
+daughter Nettie is very sick."
+
+"Sick!" exclaimed the man. "Nettie!--Where is she?"
+
+"She is here. Hush! you must not say nothing to her, but she is very
+sick. She is come fainting at my door, and I have got her in here; but
+she wants to go home, and I think you had better tell her she will not
+go home, but she will stay here with me to-night."
+
+"Where is she?" said Mr. Mathieson; and he stepped in with so little
+ceremony that the mistress of the house gave way before him. He looked
+round the shop.
+
+"She is not here--you shall see her--but you must not tell her she is
+sick," said the Frenchwoman, anxiously.
+
+"Where is she?" repeated Mr. Mathieson, with a tone and look which made
+Mme. Auguste afraid he would burst the doors if she did not open them.
+She opened the inner door without further preparation, and Mr. Mathieson
+walked in. By the fading light he saw Nettie lying on the floor at his
+feet. He was thoroughly himself now; sobered in more ways than one. He
+stood still when he had got there, and spoke not a word.
+
+"Father," said Nettie, softly.
+
+He stooped down over her. "What do you want, Nettie?"
+
+"Can't I go home?"
+
+"She must better not go home to-night!" began Mme. Auguste, earnestly.
+"It is so wet and cold! She will stay here with me to-night, Mr.
+Mat'ieson. You will tell her that it is best."
+
+But Nettie said, "_Please_ let me go home! mother will be so troubled."
+She spoke little, for she felt weak; but her father saw her very eager
+in the request. He stooped and put his strong arms under her, and lifted
+her up.
+
+"Have you got anything you can put over her?" he said, looking round the
+room. "I'll fetch it back."
+
+Seeing that the matter was quite taken out of her hands, the kind little
+Frenchwoman was very quick in her arrangements. She put on Nettie's head
+a warm hood of her own; then round her and over her she wrapped a thick
+woollen counterpane, that to be sure would have let no snow through if
+the distance to be travelled had been twice as far. As she folded and
+arranged the thick stuff round Nettie's head, so as to shield even her
+face from the outer air, she said, half whispering--
+
+"I would not tell nothing to mother about your lip; it is not much. I
+wish I could keep you. Now she is ready, Mr. Mat'ieson."
+
+And Mr. Mathieson stalked out of the house, and strode along the road
+with firm, swift steps, till, past Jackson's, and past the turning, he
+came to his own door, and carried Nettie upstairs. He never said a word
+the whole way. Nettie was too muffled up, and too feeble to speak; so
+the first word was when he had come in and sat down in a chair, which he
+did with Nettie still in his arms. Mrs. Mathieson, standing white and
+silent, waited to see what was the matter; she had no power to ask a
+question. Her husband unfolded the counterpane that was wrapped round
+Nettie's head; and there she was, looking very like her usual self, only
+exceedingly pale. As soon as she caught sight of her mother's face,
+Nettie would have risen and stood up, but her father's arms held her
+fast. "What do you want, Nettie?" he asked. It was the first word.
+
+"Nothing, father," said Nettie, "only lay me on the bed, please; and
+then you and mother have supper."
+
+Mr. Mathieson took her to the bed and laid her gently down, removing the
+snow-wet counterpane which was round her.
+
+"What is the matter?" faltered Mrs. Mathieson.
+
+"Nothing much, mother," said Nettie, quietly; "only I was a little sick.
+Wont you bake the waffles and have supper?"
+
+"What will _you_ have?" said her father.
+
+"Nothing--I've had something. I feel nicely now," said Nettie. "Mother,
+wont you have supper, and let me see you?"
+
+Mrs. Mathieson's strength had well-nigh deserted her; but Nettie's
+desire was urgent, and seeing that her husband had seated himself by the
+bedside, and seemed to have no idea of being anywhere but at home that
+evening, she at length gathered up her faculties to do what was the best
+thing to be done, and went about preparing the supper. Nettie's eyes
+watched her, and Mr. Mathieson when he thought himself safe watched
+_her_. He did not look like the same man, so changed and sobered was the
+expression of his face. Mrs. Mathieson was devoured by fear, even in
+observing this; but Nettie was exceedingly happy. She did not feel
+anything but weakness: and she lay on her pillow watching the waffles
+baked and sugared, and then watching them eaten, wondering and
+rejoicing within herself at the way in which her father had been brought
+to eat his supper there at home after all. She was the only one that
+enjoyed anything, though her father and mother ate to please her. Mrs.
+Mathieson had asked an account of Nettie's illness, and got a very
+unsatisfactory one. She had been faint, her husband said; he had found
+her at Mrs. August's and brought her home; that was about all. After
+supper he came and sat by Nettie again; and said she was to sleep there,
+and he would go up and take Nettie's place in the attic. Nettie in vain
+said she was well enough to go upstairs; her father cut the question
+short, and bade Mrs. Mathieson go up and get anything Nettie wanted.
+When she had left the room, he stooped his head down to Nettie and said
+low--
+
+"What was that about your lip?"
+
+Nettie started; she thought he would fancy it had been done, if done at
+all, when he gave her the push at the frame-house. But she did not, dare
+not, answer. She said it was only that she had found a little blood on
+her handkerchief, and supposed she might have cut her lip when she fell
+on Mrs. August's threshold, when she had fainted.
+
+"Show me your handkerchief," said her father. Nettie obeyed. He looked
+at it, and looked close at her lips, to find where they might have been
+wounded; and Nettie was sorry to see how much he felt, for he even
+looked pale himself as he turned away from her. But he was as gentle and
+kind as he could be; Nettie had never seen him so; and when he went off
+up to bed and Nettie was drawn into her mother's arms to go to sleep,
+she was very, very happy. But she did not tell her hopes or her joys to
+her mother; she only told her thanks to the Lord; and that she did till
+she fell asleep.
+
+The next morning Nettie was well enough to get up and dress herself.
+That was all she was suffered to do by father or mother. Mr. Mathieson
+sent Barry for water and wood, and himself looked after the fire while
+Mrs. Mathieson was busy; all the rest he did was to take Nettie in his
+arms and sit holding her till breakfast was ready. He did not talk, and
+he kept Barry quiet; he was like a different man. Nettie, feeling indeed
+very weak, could only sit with her head on her father's shoulder, and
+wonder, and think, and repeat quiet prayers in her heart. She was very
+pale yet, and it distressed Mr. Mathieson to see that she could not eat.
+So he laid her on the bed, when he was going to his work, and told her
+she was to stay there and be still, and he would bring her something
+good when he came home.
+
+The day was strangely long and quiet to Nettie. Instead of going to
+school and flying about at home doing all sorts of things, she lay on
+the bed and followed her mother with her eyes as she moved about the
+room at her work. The eyes often met Mrs. Mathieson's eyes; and once
+Nettie called her mother to her bedside.
+
+"Mother, what is the matter with you?"
+
+Mrs. Mathieson stood still, and had some trouble to speak. At last she
+told Nettie she was sorry to see her lying there and not able to be up
+and around.
+
+"Mother," said Nettie, expressively,--"'There is rest for the weary.'"
+
+"O Nettie," said her mother, beginning to cry,--"you are all I have
+got!--my blessed one!"
+
+"Hush, mother," said Nettie; "_I_ am not your blessed one,--you forget;
+and I am not all you have got. Where is Jesus, mother? O mother, 'rest
+in the Lord!'"
+
+"I don't deserve to," said Mrs. Mathieson, trying to stop her tears.
+
+"I feel very well," Nettie went on; "only weak, but I shall be well
+directly. And I am so happy, mother. Wont you go on and get dinner? and
+mother, just do that;--'rest in the Lord.'"
+
+Nettie was not able to talk much, and Mrs. Mathieson checked herself and
+went on with her work, as she begged. When her father came home at night
+he was as good as his word, and brought home some fresh oysters, that he
+thought would tempt Nettie's appetite; but it was much more to her that
+he stayed quietly at home and never made a move toward going out. Eating
+was not in Nettie's line just now; the little kind Frenchwoman had been
+to see her in the course of the day and brought some delicious rolls and
+a jug of _riz-au-gras_, which was what seemed to suit Nettie's appetite
+best of all.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+THE GOLDEN CITY.
+
+
+Several days went on; she did not feel sick, and she was a little
+stronger; but appetite and colour were wanting. Her father would not let
+her do anything; he would not let her go up to her garret to sleep,
+though Nettie pleaded for it, fearing he must be uncomfortable. He said
+it was fitter for him than for her, though he made faces about it. He
+always came home and stayed at home now, and especially attended to
+Nettie; his wages came home too, and he brought every day something to
+try to tempt her to eat; and he was quiet and grave and kind--not the
+same person.
+
+Mrs. Mathieson in the midst of all her distress about Nettie began to
+draw some free breaths. But her husband thought only of his child;
+unless, perhaps, of himself; and drew none. Regularly after supper he
+would draw Nettie to his arms and sit with her head on his shoulder;
+silent generally, only he would sometimes ask her what she would like.
+The first time he put this inquiry when Mr. Lumber was out of the way,
+Nettie answered by asking him to read to her. Mr. Mathieson hesitated a
+little, not unkindly, and then read; a chapter in the Bible, of course,
+for Nettie wished to hear nothing else. And after that he often read to
+her; for Mr. Lumber kept up his old habits and preferred livelier
+company, and so was always out in the evenings.
+
+So several days passed; and when Saturday came, Mr. Mathieson lost half
+a day's work and took a long walk to a farm where the people kept
+pigeons; and brought home one for Nettie's supper. However, she could
+fancy but very little of it.
+
+"What shall I do for you?" said her father. "You go round like a shadow,
+and you don't eat much more. What shall I do that you would like?"
+
+This time there was nobody in the room. Nettie lifted her head from his
+shoulder and met his eyes.
+
+"If you would come to Jesus, father!"
+
+"What?" said Mr. Mathieson.--"I don't know anything about that, Nettie.
+I aint fit."
+
+"Jesus will take you anyhow, father, if you will come."
+
+"We'll talk about that some other time," said Mr. Mathieson,--"when you
+get well."
+
+"But suppose I don't get well, father?"
+
+"Eh?----" said Mr. Mathieson, startled.
+
+"Perhaps I shan't get well," said Nettie, her quiet, grave face not
+changing in the least; "then I shall go to the golden city; and father,
+I shall be looking for you till you come."
+
+Mr. Mathieson did not know how to answer her; he only groaned.
+
+"Father, will you come?" Nettie repeated, a little faint streak of
+colour in her cheeks showing the earnestness of the feeling at work. But
+her words had a mingled accent of tenderness and hope which was
+irresistible.
+
+"Yes, Nettie--if you will show me how," her father answered, in a
+lowered voice. And Nettie's eye gave one bright flash of joy. It was as
+if all her strength had gone out at that flash, and she was obliged to
+lean back on her father's shoulder and wait; joy seemed to have taken
+away her breath. He waited too, without knowing why she did.
+
+"Father, the only thing to do is to come to Jesus."
+
+"What does that mean, Nettie? You know I don't know."
+
+"It means, father, that Jesus is holding out his hand with a promise to
+you. Now if you will take the promise,--that is all."
+
+"What is the promise, Nettie?"
+
+Nettie waited, gathered breath, for the talk made her heart beat; and
+then said, "'This is the promise that he hath promised us, even eternal
+life.'"
+
+"How can a sinful man take such a promise?" said Mr. Mathieson, with
+suppressed feeling. "That is for people like you, Nettie, not me."
+
+"Oh, Jesus has bought it!" cried Nettie; "it's free. It's without
+price. You may have it if you'll believe in him and love him, father. I
+can't talk."
+
+She had talked too much, or the excitement had been too strong for her.
+Her words were broken off by coughing, and she remarked that her lip
+must have bled again. Her father laid her on the bed, and from that time
+for a number of days she was kept as quiet as possible; for her strength
+had failed anew and yet more than at first.
+
+For two weeks she hardly moved from the bed. But except that she was so
+very pale, she did not look very ill; her face wore just its own patient
+and happy expression. Her father would not now let her talk to him; but
+he did everything she asked. He read to her in the Bible; Nettie would
+turn over the leaves to the place she wanted, and then point it out to
+him with a look of life, and love, and pleasure, that were like a whole
+sermon; and her father read first that sermon and then the chapter. He
+went to church as she asked him; and without her asking him, after the
+first Sunday. Nettie stayed at home on the bed and sang psalms in her
+heart.
+
+After those two weeks there was a change for the better. Nettie felt
+stronger, looked more as she used to look, and got up and even went
+about a little. The weather was changing too, now. April days were
+growing soft and green; trees budding and grass freshening up, and birds
+all alive in the branches; and above all the air and the light, the
+wonderful soft breath of spring and sunshine of spring, made people
+forget that winter had ever been harsh or severe.
+
+Nettie went out and took little walks in the sun, which seemed to do her
+good; and she begged so hard to be allowed to go to her garret again,
+that her father took pity on her; sent Mr. Lumber away, and gave her her
+old nice little room on the same floor with the others. Her mother
+cleaned it and put it in order, and Nettie felt too happy when she found
+herself mistress of it again and possessed of a quiet place where she
+could read and pray alone. With windows open, how sweetly the spring
+walked in there, and made it warm, and bright, and fragrant too. But
+Nettie had a tenderness for her old garret as long as she lived.
+
+"It had got to be full of the Bible, mother," she said one day. "You
+know it was too cold often to sit up there; so I used to go to bed and
+lie awake and think of things,--at night when the stars were
+shining,--and in the morning in the moonlight sometimes."
+
+"But how was the garret full of the Bible, Nettie?"
+
+"Oh, I had a way of looking at some part of the roof or the window when
+I was thinking; when I couldn't have the Bible in my hands."
+
+"Well, how did that make it?"
+
+"Why the words seemed to be all over, mother. There was one big nail I
+used often to be looking at when I was thinking over texts, and a
+knot-hole in one of the wainscot boards; my texts used to seem to go in
+and out of that knot-hole. And somehow, mother, I got so that I hardly
+ever opened the shutter without thinking of those words--'Open ye the
+gates, that the righteous nation that keepeth the truth may enter in.'
+I don't know why, but I used to think of it. And out of that window I
+used to see the stars, and look at the golden city."
+
+"Look at it!" said Mrs. Mathieson.
+
+"In my thoughts, you know, mother. Oh, mother, how happy we are, that
+are going to the city! It seems to me as if all that sunlight was a
+curtain let down, and the city is just on the other side."
+
+It was a lovely spring day, the windows open, and the country flooded
+with a soft misty sunlight, through which the tender greens of the
+opening leaf began to appear. Nettie was lying on the bed in her room,
+her mother at work by her side. Mrs. Mathieson looked at her earnest
+eyes, and then wistfully out of the window where they were gazing.
+
+"What makes you think so much about it?" she said, at last.
+
+"I don't know; I always do. I used to think about it last winter,
+looking out at the stars. Why, mother, you know Jesus is there; how can
+I help thinking about it?"
+
+"He is here, too," murmured poor Mrs. Mathieson.
+
+"Mother," said Nettie, tenderly, "aren't those good words,--'He hath not
+despised nor abhorred the affliction of the afflicted, neither hath he
+hid his face from him; but when he cried unto him, _he heard_?' I have
+thought of those words, very often."
+
+Nettie wished she could sing, for she had often seen singing comfort her
+mother; but she had not the power to-day. She gave her the best she
+could. Her words, however, constantly carried hurt and healing together
+to her mother's mind. But when Nettie went on to repeat softly the verse
+of a hymn that follows, she was soothed, notwithstanding the hinted
+meaning in the words. So sweet was the trust of the hymn, so unruffled
+the trust of the speaker. The words were from a little bit of a book of
+translations of German hymns which Mr. Folke, her Sunday-school
+teacher, had brought her, and which was never out of Nettie's hand.
+
+    "'As God leads me so my heart
+        In faith shall rest.
+      No grief nor fear my soul shall part
+        From Jesus' breast.
+      In sweet belief I know
+      What way my life doth go--
+      Since God permitteth so--
+        That must be best.'"
+
+Slowly she said the words, with her usual sober, placid face; and Mrs.
+Mathieson was mute.
+
+For some weeks, as the spring breathed warmer and warmer, Nettie
+revived; so much that her mother at times felt encouraged about her. Mr.
+Mathieson was never deceived. Whether his former neglect of his child
+had given him particular keenness of vision in all that concerned her
+now, or for whatever reason, _he_ saw well enough and saw constantly
+that Nettie was going to leave him. There was never a wish of hers
+uncared for now; there was not a straw suffered to lie in her path, that
+he could take out of it. He went to church, and he read at home; he
+changed his behaviour to her mother as well as to herself, and he
+brought Barry to his bearings. What more did Nettie want?
+
+One Sunday, late in May, Nettie had stayed at home alone while the rest
+of the family were gone to church, the neighbour down stairs having
+promised to look after her. She needed no looking after, though; she
+spent her time pleasantly with her Bible and her hymns, till feeling
+tired she went to her room to lie down. The windows were open; it was a
+very warm day; the trees were in leaf, and from her bed Nettie could
+only see the sunshine in the leaves, and in one place through a gap in
+the trees, a bit of bright hill-side afar off. The birds sang merrily,
+and nothing else sounded at all; it was very Sabbath stillness. So
+Nettie lay till she heard the steps of the church-goers returning; and
+presently, after her mother had been there and gone, her father came
+into her room to see her. He kissed her, and said a few words, and then
+went to the window and stood there looking out. Both were silent some
+time, while the birds sang on.
+
+"Father," said Nettie.
+
+He turned instantly, and asked her what she wanted.
+
+"Father," said Nettie, "the streets of the city are all of gold."
+
+"Well," said he, meeting her grave eyes, "and what then, Nettie?"
+
+"Only, I was thinking, if the _streets_ are gold, how clean must the
+feet be that walk on them!"
+
+He knew what her intent eyes meant, and he sat down by her bedside and
+laid his face in his hands. "I am a sinful man, Nettie!" he said.
+
+"Father, 'this is a faithful saying, that Jesus Christ came into the
+world to save sinners.'"
+
+"I don't deserve he should save me, Nettie."
+
+"Well, father, ask him to save you, _because_ you don't deserve it."
+
+"What sort of a prayer would that be?"
+
+"The right one, father; for Jesus does deserve it, and for his sake is
+the only way. If you deserved it, you wouldn't want Jesus; but now '_he_
+is our peace.' O father listen, listen, to what the Bible says." She had
+been turning the leaves of her Bible, and read low and earnestly--"'Now
+we are ambassadors for God, as though God did beseech you by us; we pray
+you, in Christ's stead, be ye reconciled to God.' Oh, father, aren't you
+willing to be reconciled to him?"
+
+"God knows I am willing!" said Mr. Mathieson.
+
+"_He_ is willing, I am sure," said Nettie. "'He was wounded for our
+transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities, the chastisement of
+our peace was upon him.' He has made peace; he is the Prince of Peace;
+he will give it to you, father."
+
+There was a long silence. Mr. Mathieson never stirred. Nor Nettie,
+hardly. The words were true of her,--"He that believeth shall not make
+haste." She waited, looking at him. Then he said, "What must I do,
+Nettie?"
+
+"Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ."
+
+"How, child?"
+
+"Father, the best way is to ask him, and he will tell you how. If you
+are only willing to be his servant--if you are willing to give yourself
+to the Lord Jesus--are you willing, father?"
+
+"I am willing, anything!--if he will have me," said Mr. Mathieson.
+
+"Then go, father!" said Nettie, eagerly;--"go and ask him, and he will
+teach you how; he will, he has promised. Go, father, and ask the
+Lord--will you? Go now."
+
+Her father remained still a moment--then he rose up and went out of the
+room, and she heard his steps going up to the unused attic. Nettie
+crossed her hands upon her breast, and smiled. She was too much
+exhausted to pray, otherwise than with a thought.
+
+Her mother soon came in, and startled by her flushed look, asked how she
+did. "Well," Nettie said. Mrs. Mathieson was uneasy, and brought her
+something to take, which Nettie couldn't eat; and insisted on her lying
+still and trying to go to sleep. Nettie thought she could not sleep; and
+she did not for some time; then slumber stole over her, and she slept
+sweetly and quietly while the hours of the summer afternoon rolled away.
+Her mother watched beside her for a long while before she awoke; and
+during that time read surely in Nettie's delicate cheek and too delicate
+colour, what was the sentence of separation. She read it, and smothered
+the cry of her heart, for Nettie's sake.
+
+The sun was descending toward the western hilly country, and long level
+rays of light were playing in the tree-tops, when Nettie awoke.
+
+"Are you there, mother?" she said--"and is the Sunday so near over! How
+I have slept."
+
+"How do you feel, dear?"
+
+"Why, I feel well," said Nettie. "It has been a good day. The gold is
+all in the air here--not in the streets." She had half raised herself
+and was sitting looking out of the window.
+
+"Do you think of that city all the time?" inquired Mrs. Mathieson, half
+jealously.
+
+"Mother," said Nettie, slowly, still looking out at the sunlight, "would
+you be very sorry, and very much surprised, if I were to go there before
+long?"
+
+"I should not be very much surprised, Nettie," answered her mother, in a
+tone that told all the rest. Her child's eye turned to her sorrowfully
+and understandingly.
+
+"You'll not be very long before you'll be there too," she said. "Now
+kiss me, mother."
+
+Could Mrs. Mathieson help it? She took Nettie in her arms, but instead
+of the required kiss there came a burst of passion that bowed her head
+in convulsive grief against her child's breast. The pent-up sorrow, the
+great burden of love and tenderness, the unspoken gratitude, the
+unspeakable longing of heart, all came in those tears and sobs that
+shook her as if she had forgotten on what a frail support she was half
+resting. Nay, nature must speak this one time; she had taken the matter
+into her own hands, and she was not to be struggled with, for a while.
+Nettie bore it--how did she bear it? With a little trembling of lip at
+first; then that passed, and with quiet sorrow she saw and felt the
+suffering which had broken forth so stormily. True to her office, the
+little peacemaker tried her healing art. Softly stroking her mother's
+face and head while she spoke, she said very softly and slowly,
+
+"Mother, you know it is Jesus that said, 'Blessed are they that mourn,
+for they shall be comforted.' You have the mourning now, but he will
+find the comfort by and by."
+
+Ashamed of her giving way, and of her having left it to the weak one to
+act the part of the strong, Mrs. Mathieson checked herself, held up her
+head and dried her tears. Nettie lay down wearily.
+
+"I will stay here, mother," she said, "till tea is ready; and then I
+will come." Mrs. Mathieson went to attend to it.
+
+When Nettie went into the other room, her father was sitting there. She
+said nothing however, and even for some time did not look in his face to
+see what he might have to say to her. She took a cup of tea and a
+biscuit, and eat an egg that her mother had boiled for her. It was when
+supper was over, and they had moved from the table and Mrs. Mathieson
+was busy about, that Nettie turned her eyes once more upon her father,
+with their soft, full inquiry. He looked grave, subdued, tender; she had
+heard that in his voice already; not as she had ever seen him look
+before. He met her eyes, and answered them.
+
+"I understand it now, Nettie," he said.
+
+It was worth while to see Nettie's smile. She was not a child very given
+to expressing her feelings, and when pleasure reached that point with
+her, it was something to see such a breaking of light upon a face that
+generally dwelt in twilight sobriety. Her father drew her close, close
+within his arms; and without one word Nettie sat there, till, for very
+happiness and weariness, she fell asleep; and he carried her to her
+room.
+
+There was a great calm fell upon the family for a little time
+thereafter. It was like one of those spring days that were passed--full
+of misty light, and peace, and hope, and promise. It was a breath of
+rest.
+
+But they knew it would end--for a time; and one summer day the end came.
+It was a Sunday again, and again Nettie was lying on her bed, enjoying
+in her weakness the loveliness of the air and beauty without. Her mother
+was with her, and knew that she had been failing very fast for some
+days. Nettie knew it too.
+
+"How soon do you think father will be home?" she said.
+
+"Not before another hour, I think," said Mrs. Mathieson. "Why, what of
+it, Nettie?"
+
+"Nothing----" said Nettie, doubtfully. "I'd like him to come."
+
+"It wont be long," said her mother.
+
+"Mother, I am going to give you my little dear hymn book," said Nettie,
+presently; "and I want to read you this hymn now, and then you will
+think of me when you read it. May I?"
+
+"Read," said Mrs. Mathieson; and she put up her hand to hide her face
+from Nettie. Nettie did not look, however; her eyes were on her hymn,
+and she read it, low and sweetly--very sweetly--through. There was no
+tremor in her voice, but now and then a little accent of joy or a shade
+of tenderness.
+
+    "'Meet again! yes, we shall meet again,
+      Though now we part in pain!
+            His people all
+            Together Christ shall call.
+                  Hallelujah!
+
+    "'Soon the days of absence shall be o'er,
+      And thou shalt weep no more;
+            Our meeting day
+            Shall wipe all tears away.
+                  Hallelujah!
+
+    "'Now I go with gladness to our home,
+      With gladness thou shalt come;
+            There I will wait
+            To meet thee at heaven's gate.
+                  Hallelujah!
+
+    "'Dearest! what delight again to share
+      Our sweet communion there!
+            To walk among
+            The holy ransomed throng.
+                  Hallelujah!
+
+    "'Here, in many a grief, our hearts were one,
+      But there in joys alone;
+            Joys fading never,
+            Increasing, deepening ever.
+                  Hallelujah!
+
+    "'Not to mortal sight can it be given
+      To know the bliss of heaven;
+            But thou shalt be
+            Soon there, and sing with me,
+                  Hallelujah!
+
+    "'Meet again! yes, we shall meet again,
+      Though now we part in vain!
+            His people all
+            Together Christ shall call.
+                  Hallelujah!'"
+
+Mrs. Mathieson's head bowed as the hymn went on, but she dared not give
+way to tears, and Nettie's manner half awed and half charmed her into
+quietness. It was not likely she would forget those words ever. When the
+reading had ceased, and in a few minutes Mrs. Mathieson felt that she
+could look toward Nettie again, she saw that the book had fallen from
+her hand and that she was almost fainting. Alarmed instantly, she called
+for help, and got one of the inmates of the house to go after Mr.
+Mathieson. But Nettie sank so fast, they were afraid he would not come
+in time. The messenger came back without having been able to find him;
+for after the close of the services in the church Mr. Mathieson had
+gone out of his way on an errand of kindness. Nettie herself was too low
+to ask for him, if indeed she was conscious that he was not there. They
+could not tell; she lay without taking any notice.
+
+But just as the last rays of the sun were bright in the leaves of the
+trees and on the hills in the distance, Mr. Mathieson's step was heard.
+One of the neighbours met him and told him what he must expect; and he
+came straight to Nettie's room. And when he bent down over her and
+spoke, Nettie knew his voice and opened her eyes, and once more smiled.
+It was like a smile from another country. Her eyes were fixed on him.
+Mr. Mathieson bent yet nearer and put his lips to hers; then he tried to
+speak.
+
+"My little peacemaker, what shall I do without you?"
+
+Nettie drew a long, long breath. "Peace--is--made," she slowly said.
+
+And the peacemaker was gone.
+
+
+                                THE END.
+
+
+
+
+                                    LONDON: THE BROADWAY, LUDGATE HILL.
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+
+      ÆSOP'S FABLES. With Plates by H. Weir.
+
+      EXTRAORDINARY MEN AND WOMEN.
+
+      DORA AND HER PAPA. By the Author of "Lillian's Golden Hours."
+
+      TALES UPON TEXTS. By _Rev. H. C. Adams_.
+
+      THE ILLUSTRATED GIRL'S OWN TREASURY.
+
+      GREAT BATTLES OF THE BRITISH ARMY. Coloured Plates.
+
+      THE PRINCE OF THE HOUSE OF DAVID. With Plates.
+
+      THE PILLAR OF FIRE. With Plates.
+
+      THE THRONE OF DAVID. With Plates.
+
+      THE STORY OF THE REFORMATION. By _D'Aubigné_
+
+      POPULAR ASTRONOMY AND ORBS OF HEAVEN.
+
+      WOOD'S NATURAL HISTORY PICTURE-BOOK: ANIMALS. 170 Illustrations.
+      Fcap. 4to.
+
+      WOOD'S NATURAL HISTORY PICTURE-BOOK: BIRDS. 240 Illustrations.
+      Fcap. 4to.
+
+      WOOD'S NATURAL HISTORY PICTURE-BOOK: FISH, REPTILES, INSECTS, &c.
+      260 Illustrations. Fcap. 4to.
+
+      GOLDEN LIGHT: Stories for the Young. With 80 large Pictures. Imp.
+      16mo.
+
+      POPULAR NURSERY TALES AND RHYMES. With 170 Illustrations. Imp.
+      16mo.
+
+      HANS ANDERSEN'S STORIES AND TALES. With 80 Illustrations. Imp.
+      16mo.
+
+      SCRIPTURE NATURAL HISTORY. By _Maria E. Catlow_. With 16 pages of
+      Coloured Illustrations. Square.
+
+      PICTURE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. With 80 Full-page Illustrations. Fcap.
+      4to.
+
+      WHAT THE MOON SAW, and Other Tales. By _Hans C. Andersen_, With 80
+      Illustrations. Imp. 16mo.
+
+      THE BOOK OF TRADES. With Hundreds of Illustrations. Imp. 16mo.
+
+      ROUTLEDGE'S SCRIPTURE GIFT-BOOK. With Coloured Plates. Demy 4to.
+
+      THE CHILD'S COLOURED SCRIPTURE BOOK. With 100 Coloured Plates.
+      Imp. 16mo.
+
+      THE GOOD CHILD'S COLOURED BOOK. Oblong folio. 24 Coloured Plates.
+
+      CHILD'S PICTURE BOOK OF WILD ANIMALS. 12 Plates, printed in
+      Colours by Kronheim. Large oblong, boards. (Cloth, 6_s._)
+
+      PICTURES FROM ENGLISH HISTORY. 24 Pages of Col. Plates.
+
+      OTTO SPECKTER'S PICTURE FABLES. With 100 Coloured Plates. 4to,
+      gilt edges.
+
+      THE PLEASURE BOOK OF THE YEAR: A Picture Book with Coloured
+      Plates.
+
+      ANIMAL LIFE ALL THE WORLD OVER. Large Coloured Plates. Fancy
+      boards. (Cloth, 6_s._)
+
+      BUDS AND FLOWERS OF CHILDISH LIFE. With Coloured Plates (uniform
+      with "Schnick-Schnack"). Imp. 16mo.
+
+      THE CHILD'S PICTURE BOOK OF DOMESTIC ANIMALS. 12 large Plates,
+      printed in Colours by Kronheim. Large oblong, boards. (In cloth,
+      6_s._)
+
+      OUR NURSE'S PICTURE BOOK. With 24 Pages of Coloured Plates. Demy
+      4to.
+
+      ROUTLEDGE'S PICTURE SCRAP-BOOK. Folio, boards.
+
+
+Routledge's Three-and-Sixpenny Juvenile Books.
+
+_All well Illustrated, bound in cloth._
+
+ s. d.
+ 3  6 OUR DOMESTIC PETS. By the _Rev. J. G. Wood, M.A._ With 16
+      Full-page Illustrations. Fcap. 8vo, cloth.
+
+      JACK OF THE MILL. By _William Howitt_. With Page Illustrations.
+      Fcap. 8vo, cloth.
+
+      PATIENCE STRONG: A Book for Girls. By the Author of "The
+      Gayworthys." With Illustrations. Fcap. 8vo, cloth.
+
+      DON QUIXOTE. A New Edition for Family Reading. With Plates by John
+      Gilbert. Crown 8vo, cloth gilt.
+
+      THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Edited by _Archdeacon Allen_. With
+      Coloured Plates. Fcap. 8vo, cloth, gilt edges.
+
+      PETSETILLA'S POSY: A Fairy Tale. By _Tom Hood_. With numerous
+      Illustrations by Fred Barnard. Small 4to, cloth, gilt.
+
+      CHILD LIFE. With Illustrations by Oscar Pletsch. Small 4to, cloth,
+      gilt edges.
+
+      THE GIRL'S BIRTHDAY BOOK. With many Illustrations. Crown 8vo,
+      cloth, gilt edges.
+
+      THE BOY GIPSIES. By _St. John Corbet_. With Illustrations. Fcap.
+      8vo, cloth gilt.
+
+      ROUTLEDGE'S ALBUM FOR CHILDREN. By the Author of
+      "Schnick-Schnack." With 180 Page Plates. Imp. 16mo, cloth.
+
+      WHAT SHE DID WITH HER LIFE. By _Marion F. Theed_. With
+      Illustrations. Fcap. 8vo, cloth, gilt edges.
+
+      THE PICTURE STORY-BOOK. Containing "King Nutcracker," and other
+      Tales. Fcap. 8vo, cloth, gilt edges.
+
+      GUIZOT'S MORAL TALES.
+
+      HANS ANDERSEN'S TALES.
+
+      THE ISLAND HOME.
+
+      BOYS AT HOME. By _Miss Adams_.
+
+      HEROINES OF HISTORY.
+
+      SKETCHES AND ANECDOTES OF ANIMAL LIFE. By _Rev. J. G. Wood_.
+
+      ESPERANZA. By _Anne Bowman_.
+
+      GRIMM'S HOME STORIES.
+
+      ANIMAL TRAITS AND CHARACTERISTICS. By _Rev. J. G. Wood_.
+
+      MY FEATHERED FRIENDS. By ditto.
+
+      WHITE'S SELBORNE. 200 Cuts.
+
+      FOREST LIFE. By _Newland_.
+
+      THE FOUR SISTERS.
+
+      MARMADUKE MERRY, THE MIDSHIPMAN. By _Kingston_.
+
+      FREAKS ON THE FELLS. By. _R. M. Ballantyne_.
+
+      YOUNG YACHTSMAN. By _Anne Bowman_.
+
+      LAMB'S TALES FROM SHAKSPERE. With Coloured Plates.
+
+      BALDERSCOURT; or, Holiday Tales. By the _Rev. H. C. Adams_.
+
+      BOY PILGRIMS. By _Anne Bowman_.
+
+      AMONG THE TARTAR TENTS. By ditto.
+
+      ROB ROY. By _James Grant_.
+
+      TOM AND THE CROCODILES. By _Anne Bowman_.
+
+      JOHNNY JORDAN. By _Mrs. Eiloart_.
+
+      ERNIE ELTON, AT HOME AND AT SCHOOL.
+
+      THE VILLAGE IDOL. By the Author of "A Trap to Catch a Sunbeam."
+
+      CHILDREN OF BLESSING. By the Author of "The Four Sisters."
+
+      LAST HOMES OF DEPARTED GENIUS.
+
+      LOST AMONG THE WILD MEN.
+
+      PERCY'S TALES OF THE KINGS AND QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
+
+      BOYS OF BEECHWOOD. By _Mrs. Eiloart_.
+
+      CECILE RAYE.
+
+      PAPA'S WISE DOGS.
+
+      PLAY HOURS AND HALF HOLIDAYS.
+
+      KANGAROO HUNTERS. By _Anne Bowman_.
+
+      THE GOLDEN RULE.
+
+      EDGAR'S BOYHOOD OF GREAT MEN.
+
+      FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. By _J. G. Edgar_.
+
+      REV. J. G. WOOD'S BOY'S OWN NATURAL HISTORY BOOK.
+
+      TALES OF CHARLTON SCHOOL. By the _Rev. H. C. Adams_.
+
+      SCHOOL-BOY HONOUR. By ditto.
+
+      RED ERIC. By _R. M. Ballantyne_.
+
+      LOUIS' SCHOOL DAYS.
+
+      WILD MAN OF THE WEST. By _R. M. Ballantyne_.
+
+      DOGS AND THEIR WAYS. By _Williams_.
+
+      DIGBY HEATHCOTE. By _Kingston_.
+
+      BRUIN. By _Mayne Reid_.
+
+      DESERT HOME. By ditto.
+
+      WALKS AND TALKS OF TWO SCHOOLBOYS.
+
+      FOREST EXILES. By _Mayne Reid_.
+
+      THE YOUNG NILE VOYAGERS. By _Miss Bowman_.
+
+      WONDER BOOK. By _Nathaniel Hawthorne_.
+
+      THE BOY FORESTERS. By _Anne Bowman_.
+
+      THE DOCTOR'S WARD. By the Author of "The Four Sisters."
+
+      WILL ADAMS. By _Dalton_.
+
+      ARABIAN NIGHTS. Family Edition.
+
+      LITTLE LADDERS TO LEARNING. First Series.
+
+      LITTLE LADDERS TO LEARNING. Second Series.
+
+      THE CHILD'S COUNTRY BOOK. By _Thos. Miller_. With Coloured Plates.
+
+      THE CHILD'S COUNTRY STORY-BOOK. By ditto. With Coloured Plates.
+
+      UNCLE TOM'S CABIN.
+
+      TOM DUNSTONE'S TROUBLES. By _Mrs. Eiloart_.
+
+      THE YOUNG MAROONERS.
+
+      FRED AND THE GORILLAS. By _Thomas Miller_.
+
+      ADVENTURES OF ROBIN HOOD.
+
+      INFLUENCE. By the Author of "A Trap to Catch a Sunbeam."
+
+      SPORTING ADVENTURES IN MANY LANDS.
+
+      THE GIRLS OF THE FAMILY. By the Author of "A Trap to Catch a
+      Sunbeam."
+
+      PAUL GERARD THE CABIN BOY. By _Kingston_.
+
+      DICK RODNEY. By _James Grant_.
+
+      JACK MANLY. By _James Grant_.
+
+      DASHWOOD PRIORY.
+
+      HEROINES OF DOMESTIC LIFE.
+
+      THE BEAR-HUNTERS OF THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS.
+
+      HELEN MORDAUNT. By the Author of "Naomi."
+
+      THE CASTAWAYS. By _Anne Bowman_.
+
+      THE BOY VOYAGERS. By _Anne Bowman_.
+
+      THE YOUNG EXILES. By _Anne Bowman_.
+
+      MATILDA LONSDALE. By _C. Adams_.
+
+      LILLIESLEA. By _Mary Howitt_.
+
+
+Three-and-Sixpenny One-Syllable Juveniles.
+
+_Square 16mo, cloth gilt, Coloured Plates; by Mary Godolphin._
+
+ROBINSON CRUSOE.
+
+SWISS FAMILY ROBINSON.
+
+EVENINGS AT HOME.
+
+BUNYAN'S PILGRIM'S PROGRESS.
+
+_Also Uniform, in Short Words._
+
+THE CHILD'S COUNTRY BOOK.
+
+THE CHILD'S COUNTRY STORY BOOK.
+
+
+Routledge's Three-and-Sixpenny Reward Books.
+
+_With 8 Illustrations, fcap. 8vo, bevelled boards, gilt sides and gilt
+edges._
+
+ s. d.
+ 3  6 ROBINSON CRUSOE.
+
+      SANDFORD AND MERTON.
+
+      EVENINGS AT HOME.
+
+      SWISS FAMILY ROBINSON.
+
+      EDGEWORTH'S POPULAR TALES.
+
+      EDGEWORTH'S MORAL TALES.
+
+      EDGEWORTH'S PARENT'S ASSISTANT.
+
+      EDGEWORTH'S EARLY LESSONS.
+
+      OLD TALES FOR THE YOUNG.
+
+      CLARISSA; or, The Mervyn Inheritance. By _Miss Bowman_.
+
+      THE OLD HELMET. By the Author of "The Wide, Wide World."
+
+      THE WIDE, WIDE WORLD.
+
+      DAWNINGS OF GENIUS.
+
+      THE TRAVELS OF ROLANDO. First Series.
+
+      CELEBRATED CHILDREN.
+
+      EDGAR CLIFTON.
+
+      THE LAMPLIGHTER.
+
+      MELBOURNE HOUSE.
+
+      ROMANCE OF ADVENTURE.
+
+      SEVEN WONDERS OF THE WORLD.
+
+      QUEECHY.
+
+      ELLEN MONTGOMERY'S BOOKSHELF.
+
+      THE TWO SCHOOL GIRLS.
+
+      ANCIENT CITIES OF THE WORLD.
+
+
+Routledge's Two-and-Sixpenny Juvenile Books.
+
+_Well Illustrated, and bound in cloth._
+
+ s. d.
+ 2  6 FRIEND OR FOE. A Tale of Sedgmoor. By the _Rev. H. C. Adams, M.A._
+      With Page Illustrations. Fcap. 8vo, cloth.
+
+      EDA MORTON AND HER COUSINS. By _M. M. Bell_.
+
+      GILBERT THE ADVENTURER. By _Peter Parley_.
+
+      THE LUCKY PENNY, and other Tales. By _Mrs. S. C. Hall_.
+
+      MINNIE RAYMOND. Illustrated by B. Foster.
+
+      HELENA BERTRAM. By the Author of "The Four Sisters."
+
+      HEROES OF THE WORKSHOP, &c. By _E. L. Brightwell_.
+
+      SUNSHINE AND CLOUDS. By _Miss Bowman_.
+
+      THE MAZE OF LIFE. By the Author of "The Four Sisters."
+
+      THE WIDE, WIDE WORLD.
+
+      THE LAMPLIGHTER. By _Cummins_.
+
+      THE RECTOR'S DAUGHTER. By _Miss Bowman_.
+
+      THE OLD HELMET. By _Miss Wetherell_.
+
+      QUEECHY. By _Miss Wetherell_.
+
+      SIR ROLAND ASHTON. By _Lady C. Long_.
+
+      THE TWINS; or, Sisterly Love.
+
+      ELLEN MONTGOMERY'S BOOKSHELF. Coloured Illustrations.
+
+      THE TWO SCHOOL GIRLS. With Coloured Illustrations.
+
+      MELBOURNE HOUSE. By _Miss Wetherell_.
+
+      THE WORD, AND WALKS FROM EDEN. By ditto.
+
+      ROUGH DIAMONDS. By _John Hollingshead_.
+
+      THE MEDWINS OF WYKEHAM. By the Author of "Marian."
+
+      BOY CAVALIER. By the _Rev. H. C. Adams_.
+
+      GILDEROY, THE HERO OF SCOTLAND.
+
+      FAIRY TALES. By _Madame de Chatelaine_.
+
+      EMILY CHESTER.
+
+      LAMB'S TALES.
+
+      STORIES OF OLD DANIEL.
+
+      EXTRAORDINARY MEN.
+
+      EXTRAORDINARY WOMEN.
+
+      THE YOUNG ARTISTS.
+
+      LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
+
+      POPULAR ASTRONOMY.
+
+      ORBS OF HEAVEN.
+
+      PILGRIM'S PROGRESS.
+
+
+Routledge's Two-Shilling Juvenile Books.
+
+_Illustrated. Bound in Cloth._
+
+ s. d.
+ 2  0 AUSTEN'S TALES. Five vols., with Illustrations, fcap. 8vo, cloth,
+      price 2_s._ each.
+
+      VILLAGE SKETCHES. By the _Rev. C. T. Whitehead_.
+
+      THE PLAY-DAY BOOK. By _Fanny Fern_. With Coloured Plates by
+      Kronheim. Fcap. 8vo, cloth.
+
+      CONQUEST AND SELF-CONQUEST.
+
+      EVENINGS AT DONALDSON MANOR. By _M'Intosh_.
+
+      GRACE AND ISABEL. By _M'Intosh_.
+
+      GERTRUDE AND EULALIE.
+
+      ROBERT AND HAROLD.
+
+      AMY CARLTON.
+
+      ROBINSON CRUSOE.
+
+      LAURA TEMPLE.
+
+      OUR NATIVE LAND.
+
+      HARRY AND HIS HOMES.
+
+      SOLITARY HUNTER. By _Palliser_.
+
+      BUNDLE OF STICKS; or, Love and Hate. By _J. & E. Kirby_.
+
+      FAMILY PICTURES FROM THE BIBLE.
+
+      HESTER AND I; or, Beware of Worldliness.
+
+      THE CHERRY-STONES. By the _Rev. H. C. Adams_.
+
+      THE FIRST OF JUNE. By ditto.
+
+      ROSA. A Story for Girls.
+
+      MAY DUNDAS; or, The Force of Example. By _Mrs. Geldart_.
+
+      GLIMPSES OF OUR ISLAND HOME. By ditto.
+
+      THE INDIAN BOY. By the _Rev. H. C. Adams_.
+
+      ERNIE ELTON AT HOME. By _Mrs. Eiloart_.
+
+      THE STANDARD POETRY BOOK FOR SCHOOLS.
+
+      TRY AND TRUST. By the Author of "Arthur Morland."
+
+      TEN MORAL TALES. By _Guizot_.
+
+      THE ORPHANS OF WATERLOO.
+
+      THE BOY'S READER. With Illustrations.
+
+      THE GIRL'S READER.
+
+      THE GATES AJAR. With 8 Plates.
+
+      CHARMS AND COUNTER CHARMS.
+
+      ROBINSON THE YOUNGER.
+
+      JUVENILE TALES.
+
+      SWISS FAMILY ROBINSON.
+
+      EVENINGS AT HOME.
+
+      SANDFORD AND MERTON.
+
+      ERNIE ELTON AT SCHOOL.
+
+      JOHN HARTLEY.
+
+      THE WONDER BOOK.
+
+      TANGLEWOOD TALES.
+
+      ARCHIE BLAKE.
+
+      INEZ AND EMMELINE.
+
+      MAUM GUINEA.
+
+      JACK OF ALL TRADES. By _T. Miller_.
+
+      ORPHAN OF WATERLOO. By _Mrs. Blackford_.
+
+      ADVENTURES OF JOSEPH HAWSEPIPE.
+
+      TODD'S LECTURES TO CHILDREN. 1st and 2nd Series.
+
+      MAROONER'S ISLAND.
+
+      THE MAYFLOWER. By _Mrs. Stowe_.
+
+      ANECDOTES OF DOGS.
+
+      MOSS-SIDE. By _Miss Harland_.
+
+      MR. RUTHERFORD'S CHILDREN. Complete.
+
+
+Routledge's Eighteenpenny Juveniles.
+
+_Square 16mo, with Illustrations by_ GILBERT, ABSOLON, _&c._
+
+ s. d.
+ 1  6 ON THE SEAS. A Book for Boys.
+
+      PEASANT AND PRINCE. By _Harriet Martineau_.
+
+      CROFTON BOYS. By ditto.
+
+      FEATS ON THE FIORD. By ditto.
+
+      SETTLERS AT HOME. By ditto.
+
+      LITTLE DRUMMER: A Tale of the Russian War.
+
+      FRANK. By _Maria Edgeworth_.
+
+      ROSAMOND. By ditto.
+
+      HARRY AND LUCY, LITTLE DOG TRUSTY, &c.
+
+      A HERO; or, Philip's Book. By the Author of "John Halifax."
+
+      CABIN BY THE WAYSIDE.
+
+      BLACK PRINCESS.
+
+      LAURA AND ELLEN; or, Time Works Wonders.
+
+      EMIGRANT'S LOST SON. By _G. H. Hall_.
+
+      THE RUNAWAYS AND THE GIPSIES.
+
+      BRITISH WOLF HUNTERS. By _Thomas Miller_.
+
+      THE BOW OF FAITH; or, Old Testament Lessons.
+
+      ANCHOR OF HOPE; or, New Testament Lessons. By ditto.
+
+      ACCIDENTS OF CHILDHOOD; or, Stories of Heedless Children.
+
+      ANNIE MAITLAND; or, The Lesson of Life. By _D. Richmond_.
+
+      LUCY ELTON; or, Home and School.
+
+      THE YOUNG NATURALIST. By _Mrs. Loudon_.
+
+      MEMOIRS OF A DOLL.
+
+      ROSE AND KATE.
+
+      STORY OF AN APPLE.
+
+      HOLIDAY RAMBLES.
+
+      DAILY THOUGHTS FOR CHILDREN. By _Mrs. Geldart_.
+
+      EMILIE THE PEACEMAKER. By ditto.
+
+      TRUTH IS EVERYTHING. By ditto.
+
+      CHRISTMAS HOLIDAYS. By _Miss Jane Strickland_.
+
+      AUNT EMMA. By the Author of "Rose and Kate."
+
+      THE ISLAND OF THE RAINBOW. By _Mrs. Newton Crossland_.
+
+      MAX FRERE; Or, Return Good for Evil.
+
+      RAINBOWS IN SPRINGTIDE.
+
+      THE CHILD'S FIRST BOOK OF NATURAL HISTORY.
+
+      FLORENCE THE ORPHAN.
+
+      THE CASTLE AND THE COTTAGE. By _Mrs. Perring_.
+
+      FABULOUS HISTORIES. By _Mrs. Trimmer_.
+
+      SCHOOL DAYS AT HARROW.
+
+      MRS. BARBAULD'S LESSONS.
+
+      HOLIDAYS AT LIMEWOOD.
+
+      TRADITIONS OF PALESTINE. By _Mrs. Martineau_.
+
+
+Routledge's One-Shilling Juveniles.
+
+_Well printed, with Illustrations, 18mo, cloth._
+
+ s. d.
+ 1  0 THE SUNDAY BOOK. In Words of One Syllable. Illust.
+
+      OUR POOR NEIGHBOURS. By _Mrs. Perring_.
+
+      VILLAGE SKETCHES. By the _Rev. C. T. Whitehead_, 1st and 2nd
+      Series, 1_s._ each.
+
+      GRACE GREENWOOD'S STORIES.
+
+      HELEN'S FAULT. By the Author of "Adelaide Lindsay."
+
+      THE COUSINS. By _Miss M'Intosh_.
+
+      BEN HOWARD; or, Truth and Honesty. By _C. Adams_.
+
+      BESSIE AND TOM. A Book for Boys and Girls.
+
+      BEECHNUT. A Franconian Story. By _Jacob Abbott_.
+
+      WALLACE. A Franconian Story. By ditto.
+
+      MADELINE. By ditto.
+
+      MARY ERSKINE. By ditto.
+
+      MARY BELL. By ditto.
+
+      VISIT TO MY BIRTHPLACE. By _Miss Bunbury_.
+
+      CARL KRINKEN; or, The Christmas Stocking.
+
+      MR. RUTHERFORD'S CHILDREN. By ditto.
+
+      MR. RUTHERFORD'S CHILDREN. 2nd Series. By ditto.
+
+      EMILY HERBERT. By _Miss M'Intosh_.
+
+      ROSE AND LILLIE STANHOPE. By ditto.
+
+      CASPAR. By ditto.
+
+      THE BRAVE BOY; or, Christian Heroism.
+
+      MAGDALENE AND RAPHAEL.
+
+      PLEASANT TALES. By _Mrs. Sedgwick_.
+
+      UNCLE FRANK'S HOME STORIES.
+
+      THE GATES AJAR.
+
+      THE STORY OF A MOUSE. By _Mrs. Perring_.
+
+      OUR CHARLIE. By _Mrs. Stowe_.
+
+      VILLAGE SCHOOL FEAST. By _Mrs. Perring_.
+
+      NELLY THE GIPSY GIRL.
+
+      THE BIRTHDAY VISIT. By _Miss Wetherell_.
+
+      STORIES FOR WEEK DAYS AND SUNDAYS.
+
+      MAGGIE AND EMMA. By _Miss M'Intosh_.
+
+      CHARLEY AND GEORGY; or, The Children at Gibraltar.
+
+      THE STORY OF A PENNY. By _Mrs. Perring_.
+
+      AUNT MADDY'S DIAMONDS. By _Harriet Myrtle_.
+
+      TWO SCHOOL GIRLS. By _Miss Wetherell_.
+
+      THE WIDOW AND HER DAUGHTER. By ditto.
+
+      GERTRUDE AND HER BIBLE. By ditto.
+
+      ROSE IN THE DESERT. By ditto.
+
+      THE LITTLE BLACK HEN. By ditto.
+
+      MARTHA AND RACHEL. By ditto.
+
+      THE CARPENTER'S DAUGHTER. By ditto.
+
+      THE PRINCE IN DISGUISE. By ditto.
+
+      THE STORY OF A CAT. By _Mrs. Perring_.
+
+      EASY POETRY FOR CHILDREN. With Coloured Plates.
+
+      THE BASKET OF FLOWERS. With ditto.
+
+      ASHGROVE FARM. By _Mrs. Myrtle_.
+
+      THE STORY OF A DOG. By _Mrs. Perring_.
+
+      THE ANGEL OF THE ICEBERG. By the _Rev. John Todd_.
+
+      RILLS FROM THE FOUNTAIN. A Lesson for the Young.
+
+      TODD'S LECTURES TO CHILDREN. (First Series.)
+
+      TODD'S LECTURES TO CHILDREN. (Second Series.)
+
+      LITTLE POEMS FOR LITTLE READERS.
+
+      MINNIE'S LEGACY.
+
+      NEIGHBOURLY LOVE.
+
+      KITTY'S VICTORY.
+
+      ELISE AND HER RABBITS.
+
+      HAPPY CHARLIE.
+
+      ANNIE PRICE.
+
+      THE LITTLE OXLEYS. By _Mrs. W. Denzey Burton_.
+
+      BOOK OF ONE SYLLABLE. With Coloured Plates.
+
+      LITTLE HELPS. With Coloured Plates.
+
+      UNCLE TOM'S CABIN, for Children.
+
+      AUNT MARGARET'S VISIT.
+
+      KEEPER'S TRAVELS IN SEARCH OF HIS MASTER.
+
+      RICHMOND'S ANNALS OF THE POOR.
+
+      CHILD'S ILLUSTRATED POETRY BOOK.
+
+      THE NEW BOOK OF ONE SYLLABLE.
+
+      BLANCHE AND AGNES.
+
+      THE LOST CHAMOIS-HUNTER.
+
+
+Routledge's New Series of Shilling Toy Books.
+
+_With Large Illustrations by_ H. S. MARKS, J. D. WATSON, H. WEIR, _and_
+KEYL, _Printed in Colours by Kronheim and Others. Demy 4to, stiff
+wrapper; or mounted on Linen, 2s._
+
+ s. d.
+ 1  0 ALPHABET OF TRADES.
+
+      CINDERELLA.*
+
+      ALPHABET OF PRETTY NAMES.
+
+      OLD TESTAMENT ALPHABET.
+
+      THREE LITTLE KITTENS.
+
+      THE HISTORY OF FIVE LITTLE PIGS.*
+
+      TOM THUMB'S ALPHABET.
+
+      NEW TESTAMENT ALPHABET.
+
+      THE CATS' TEA PARTY.*
+
+      OUR FARM-YARD ALPHABET.
+
+      THE HISTORY OF MOSES.
+
+      THE HISTORY OF JOSEPH.
+
+      THE ALPHABET OF FLOWERS.
+
+      NURSERY RHYMES, 2nd Series.
+
+      NURSERY GAMES.
+
+      THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT.
+
+      THE LIFE OF OUR LORD.
+
+      THE THREE BEARS.
+
+      RED RIDING-HOOD.
+
+      NEW TALE OF A TUB.*
+
+      NURSERY TALES.
+
+      OLD MOTHER HUBBARD.
+
+      PICTURES FROM ENGLISH HISTORY, 1st Period.
+
+      PICTURES FROM ENGLISH HISTORY, 2nd Period.
+
+      PICTURES FROM ENGLISH HISTORY, 3rd Period.
+
+      PICTURES FROM ENGLISH HISTORY, 4th Period.
+
+      PUSS IN BOOTS.
+
+      TOM THUMB.
+
+      BABES IN THE WOOD.
+
+      JACK AND THE BEAN-STALK.
+
+      THE LAUGHABLE A B C.
+
+      WILD ANIMALS, 1st Series.*
+
+      WILD ANIMALS, 2nd Series.*
+
+      WILD ANIMALS, 3rd Series.*
+
+      WILD ANIMALS, 4th Series.*
+
+      TAME ANIMALS, 1st Series.*
+
+      TAME ANIMALS, 2nd Series.*
+
+      TAME ANIMALS, 3rd Series.*
+
+      TAME ANIMALS, 4th Series.*
+
+      MY MOTHER.
+
+      THE DOGS' DINNER PARTY.
+
+      LITTLE DOG TRUSTY.
+
+      THE WHITE CAT.
+
+      THE UGLY DUCKLING.
+
+      LITTLE SNOW-WHITE.
+
+      DASH AND THE DUCKLINGS.
+
+* _Those marked with an asterisk are_ NOT _kept on linen._
+
+
+Aunt Mavor's Toy Books.
+
+_Large Coloured Sixpenny Books for Children, with greatly improved
+Illustrations, super-royal 8vo, in wrappers._
+
+ s. d.
+ 0  6 HISTORY OF OUR PETS.
+
+      HISTORY OF BLUE BEARD.
+
+      SINDBAD THE SAILOR.
+
+      A, APPLE PIE.
+
+      TOM THUMB'S ALPHABET.
+
+      BARON MUNCHAUSEN.
+
+      PICTURE ALPHABET.
+
+      ARTHUR'S ALPHABET.
+
+      DOROTHY FRUMP AND HER SIX DOGS.
+
+      SINGING BIRDS.
+
+      PARROTS & TALKING BIRDS.
+
+      DOGS.
+
+      NURSERY RHYMES.
+
+      BIRDS.
+
+      RAILROAD ALPHABET.
+
+      ALPHABET FOR GOOD BOYS AND GIRLS.
+
+      THE SEA-SIDE ALPHABET.
+
+      FARM-YARD ALPHABET.
+
+      GREEDY JEM AND HIS LITTLE BROTHERS.*
+
+      OUR PUSS AND HER KITTENS.*
+
+      HOP O' MY THUMB.
+
+      JACK THE GIANT KILLER.
+
+      LITTLE RED RIDING-HOOD.
+
+      BEAUTY AND THE BEAST.
+
+      HAPPY DAYS OF CHILDHOOD.*
+
+      LITTLE DOG TRUSTY.
+
+      THE CATS' TEA PARTY.
+
+      THE BABES IN THE WOOD.
+
+      WILD ANIMALS.
+
+      BRITISH ANIMALS.
+
+      THE FROG WHO WOULD A-WOOING GO.*
+
+      THE FAITHLESS PARROT.*
+
+      THE FARM-YARD.*
+
+      HORSES.
+
+      OLD DAME TROT.
+
+      MULTIPLICATION TABLE.
+
+      CHATTERING JACK.
+
+      KING COLE.
+
+      PRINCE LONG NOSE.
+
+      THE ENRAGED MILLER.
+
+      THE HUNCHBACK.
+
+      HOW JESSIE WAS LOST.
+
+      GRAMMAR IN RHYME.
+
+      BABY'S BIRTHDAY.*
+
+      PICTURES FROM THE STREETS.*
+
+      LOST ON THE SEA-SHORE.*
+
+      ANIMALS AND BIRDS.*
+
+      A CHILD'S FANCY DRESS BALL.
+
+      A CHILD'S EVENING PARTY.
+
+      ANNIE AND JACK IN LONDON.
+
+      ONE, TWO, BUCKLE MY SHOE.
+
+      MARY'S NEW DOLL.*
+
+      WHEN THE CAT'S AWAY.*
+
+      NAUGHTY PUPPY.*
+
+      CHILDREN'S FAVOURITES.*
+
+      NAUGHTY BOYS AND GIRLS.
+
+      LITTLE MINXES.
+
+      STRUWELPETER.
+
+      LITTLE MINNIE'S CHILD LIFE.
+
+      KING NUTCRACKER.
+
+      LAZY BONES.
+
+      BRITISH SOLDIERS.
+
+      BRITISH SAILORS.
+
+      BRITISH VOLUNTEERS.
+
+      LAUGHTER BOOK FOR CHILDREN.
+
+      GRISLY BEARD.
+
+      RUMPELSTILTSKIN.
+
+      DOG PUFFY.
+
+      THE FAIRY SHIP.
+
+_The above, except those marked with an asterisk, may be had strongly
+mounted on cloth, price One Shilling each._
+
+
+Routledge's New Threepenny Toy Books.
+
+_With Coloured Pictures._
+
+ s. d.
+ 0  3 CINDERELLA.
+
+      RED RIDING-HOOD.
+
+      JACK AND THE BEANSTALK.
+
+      PUSS IN BOOTS.
+
+
+Routledge's Sixpenny Juveniles.
+
+_Royal 32mo, with Illustrations, gilt edges._
+
+ s. d.
+ 0  6 HISTORY OF MY PETS.
+
+      HUBERT LEE.
+
+      ELLEN LESLIE.
+
+      JESSIE GRAHAM.
+
+      FLORENCE ARNOTT.
+
+      BLIND ALICE.
+
+      GRACE AND CLARA.
+
+      RECOLLECTIONS OF MY CHILDHOOD.
+
+      EGERTON ROSCOE.
+
+      FLORA MORTIMER.
+
+      CHARLES HAMILTON.
+
+      STORY OF A DROP OF WATER.
+
+      LEARNING BETTER THAN HOUSES AND LAND.
+
+      MAUD'S FIRST VISIT TO HER AUNT. In Words of One Syllable.
+
+      EASY POEMS.
+
+      THE BOY CAPTIVE. By _Peter Parley_.
+
+      STORIES OF CHILD LIFE.
+
+      DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER.
+
+      ARTHUR'S TALES FOR THE YOUNG.
+
+      HAWTHORNE'S GENTLE BOY.
+
+      PLEASANT AND PROFITABLE.
+
+      THE FALSE KEY.
+
+      THE BRACELETS.
+
+      WASTE NOT, WANT NOT.
+
+      TARLETON, and FORGIVE AND FORGET.
+
+      LAZY LAWRENCE AND THE WHITE PIGEON.
+
+      THE BARRING OUT.
+
+      THE ORPHANS AND OLD POZ.
+
+      THE MIMIC.
+
+      THE PURPLE JAR, and other Tales.
+
+      PARLEY'S POETRY & PROSE.
+
+      ARTHUR'S STORIES FOR LITTLE GIRLS.
+
+      THE YOUNG COTTAGER.
+
+      PARLEY'S THOS. TITMOUSE.
+
+      ARTHUR'S CHRISTMAS STORY.
+
+      THE LOST LAMB.
+
+      ARTHUR'S STORIES FOR LITTLE BOYS.
+
+      ARTHUR'S ORGAN BOY.
+
+      MARGARET JONES.
+
+      THE TWO SCHOOL GIRLS.
+
+      THE WIDOW AND HER DAUGHTER.
+
+      THE ROSE IN THE DESERT.
+
+      THE BIRTHDAY PRESENT and THE BASKET WOMAN.
+
+      SIMPLE SUSAN.
+
+      THE LITTLE MERCHANTS.
+
+      TALE OF THE UNIVERSE.
+
+      ROBERT DAWSON.
+
+      KATE CAMPBELL.
+
+      BASKET OF FLOWERS.
+
+      BABES IN THE BASKET.
+
+      THE JEWISH TWINS.
+
+      CHILDREN ON THE PLAINS.
+
+      LITTLE HENRY AND HIS BEARER.
+
+      THE LITTLE BLACK HEN.
+
+      MARTHA AND RACHEL.
+
+      CARPENTER'S DAUGHTER.
+
+      THE PRINCE IN DISGUISE.
+
+      GERTRUDE AND HER BIBLE.
+
+      THE CONTRAST. _Miss Edgeworth._
+
+      THE GRATEFUL NEGRO. _Do._
+
+      JANE HUDSON.
+
+      A KISS FOR A BLOW.
+
+      YOUNG NEGRO SERVANT.
+
+      LINA AND HER COUSINS.
+
+      ARTHUR'S LAST PENNY.
+
+      BRIGHT-EYED BESSIE.
+
+      THE GATES AJAR.
+
+
+Routledge's Fourpenny Juveniles.
+
+_Royal 32mo, fancy covers._
+
+ s. d.
+ 0  4 THE BASKET OF FLOWERS.
+
+      THE BABES IN THE BASKET.
+
+      EASY POEMS FOR CHILDREN.
+
+      JESSIE GRAHAM.
+
+      HISTORY OF MY PETS.
+
+      FLORENCE ARNOTT.
+
+      ROBERT DAWSON.
+
+      RECOLLECTIONS OF MY CHILDHOOD.
+
+      BROOKE AND BROOKE FARM.
+
+      LIFE IN THE WILDS.
+
+      HILL AND THE VALLEY.
+
+      THE WIDOW AND HER DAUGHTER.
+
+      THE TWO SCHOOL GIRLS.
+
+      THE JANE HUDSON.
+
+      A KISS FOR A BLOW.
+
+      HUBERT LEE.
+
+      FLORA MORTIMER.
+
+      A DROP OF WATER.
+
+      THE FALSE KEY.
+
+      THE BRACELETS.
+
+      THE PURPLE JAR.
+
+      SIMPLE SUSAN.
+
+      KATE CAMPBELL.
+
+      LITTLE HENRY AND HIS BEARER.
+
+      THE GATES AJAR.
+
+
+Routledge's Five-Shilling Poets.
+
+_Edited by Rev._ R. A. WILLMOTT. _Illustrated by_ FOSTER, GILBERT,
+CORBOULD, FRANKLIN, _and_ HARVEY. _Elegantly printed on good paper, post
+8vo, gilt edges, bevelled boards._
+
+ s. d.
+ 5  0 SPENSER'S FAERIE QUEENE. Illustrated by Corbould.
+
+      CHAUCER'S CANTERBURY TALES. Illustrated by ditto.
+
+      KIRKE WHITE. By _Southey_. Illustrated by Birket Foster.
+
+      SOUTHEY'S JOAN OF ARC, AND MINOR POEMS. Illustrated by Gilbert.
+
+      POPE'S POETICAL WORKS. Edited by Carey.
+
+      MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. Illustrated by Harvey.
+
+      THOMSON, BEATTIE, AND WEST. Illust. by Birket Foster.
+
+      HERBERT. With Life and Notes by _Rev. R. A. Willmott_.
+
+      COWPER. Illust. by Birket Foster. Edited by _Willmott_.
+
+      LONGFELLOW'S COMPLETE POETICAL WORKS. Illustrated.
+
+      LONGFELLOW'S PROSE WORKS.
+
+      BURNS' POETICAL WORKS. Illustrated by John Gilbert.
+
+      FAIRFAX'S TASSO'S JERUSALEM DELIVERED. Illustrated by Corbould.
+
+      PERCY'S RELIQUES OF ANCIENT POETRY. Illust. by ditto.
+
+      SCOTT'S POETICAL WORKS. Illustrated by ditto.
+
+      MACKAY'S BALLADS AND LYRICS. Illust. by John Gilbert.
+
+      WORDSWORTH. Illustrated by Birket Foster.
+
+      CRABBE. Illustrated by ditto.
+
+      MACKAY'S SONGS. Complete Edition. Illust. by Gilbert.
+
+      ELIZA COOK'S POEMS. With Illustrations and Portrait.
+
+      MOORE'S POEMS. Illustrated by Corbould, &c.
+
+      BYRON'S POEMS. Illustrated by Gilbert, Wolf, Foster.
+
+      BENNETT'S POETICAL WORKS. Portrait and Illustrations.
+
+      CAMPBELL'S POETICAL WORKS. Illustrated by W. Harvey.
+
+      LOVER'S POETICAL WORKS. Portrait and Illustrations.
+
+      ROGERS' POETICAL WORKS. With Portrait, &c.
+
+      LORD LYTTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 7_s._ 6_d._
+
+      LORD LYTTON'S DRAMATIC WORKS. 6_s._
+
+      DRYDEN'S POETICAL WORKS. With Portrait, &c.
+
+
+Routledge's Three-and-Sixpenny Poets, &c.
+
+_Printed on tinted paper, fcap. 8vo, gilt edges. With Illustrations._
+
+ s. d.
+ 3  6 LONGFELLOW'S COMPLETE POETICAL WORKS. Illust.
+
+      COWPER. Illust. by Birket Foster. Edited by _Willmott_.
+
+      MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. Illustrated by Harvey.
+
+      WORDSWORTH'S POETICAL WORKS. Illust. by B. Foster.
+
+      SOUTHEY'S JOAN OF ARC, AND MINOR POEMS. Illust. by Gilbert.
+
+      GOLDSMITH, JOHNSON, SHENSTONE, AND SMOLLETT. Do.
+
+      KIRKE WHITE. By _Southey_. Illustrated by Birket Foster.
+
+      BURNS. Illustrated by Gilbert.
+
+      THOMAS MOORE'S POEMS. Illustrated by Corbould.
+
+      BYRON'S POEMS. Illustrated by Gilbert, Wolf, &c.
+
+      POPE'S POETICAL WORKS. Illustrated by Gilbert.
+
+      SCOTT'S POETICAL WORKS. With Illustrations.
+
+      HERBERT'S WORKS. With Illustrations.
+
+      THOMAS CAMPBELL'S POETICAL WORKS. Illust. by Gilbert.
+
+      SHAKESPEARE'S COMPLETE WORKS.
+
+      CHAUCER'S POETICAL WORKS.
+
+      WILLIS'S POETICAL WORKS.
+
+      GOLDEN GLEANINGS.
+
+      CHOICE POEMS AND LYRICS.
+
+      SHAKESPEARE GEMS.
+
+      BOOK OF WIT AND HUMOUR.
+
+      WISE SAYINGS OF THE GREAT AND GOOD.
+
+      MONTGOMERY'S POEMS.
+
+
+Routledge's Two-and-Sixpenny Poets.
+
+_Fcap. 8vo, with Illustrations, in cloth._
+
+ s. d.
+ 2  6 LONGFELLOW'S COMPLETE POETICAL WORKS.
+
+      SCOTT'S POEMS.
+
+      BYRON'S POEMS.
+
+      COWPER'S POEMS.
+
+      WORDSWORTH'S POEMS.
+
+      BURNS' POEMS.
+
+      MOORE'S POEMS.
+
+      MILTON'S POEMS.
+
+      POPE'S POEMS.
+
+_Or bound in a new style, 8 vols., cloth, £1._
+
+
+Routledge's Pocket Poets.
+
+_18mo, with Portrait._
+
+ s. d.
+ 1  0 LONGFELLOW'S COMPLETE POETICAL WORKS. Paper, 1_s._; cloth, 1_s._
+      6_d._
+
+      BURNS' COMPLETE POETICAL WORKS. Paper, 1_s._; cloth, 1_s._ 6_d._
+
+      SCOTT'S POETICAL WORKS. Cloth, 1_s._
+
+
+London: THE BROADWAY, LUDGATE HILL.
+New York: 416, BROOME STREET.
+
+J. OGDEN AND CO., PRINTERS, 172, ST. JOHN STREET E C.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Carpenter's Daughter, by 
+Anna Bartlett Warner and Susan Bogert Warner
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CARPENTER'S DAUGHTER ***
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+  <head>
+    <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" />
+    <title>
+      The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Carpenter's Daughter, by Anna Bartlett Warner.
+    </title>
+    <style type="text/css">
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+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Carpenter's Daughter, by 
+Anna Bartlett Warner and Susan Bogert Warner
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Carpenter's Daughter
+
+Author: Anna Bartlett Warner
+        Susan Bogert Warner
+
+Release Date: July 13, 2007 [EBook #22061]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CARPENTER'S DAUGHTER ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Marilynda Fraser-Cunliffe, Jana Srna and the
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+(This file was made using scans of public domain works in
+the International Children's Digital Library.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 408px; margin-top: 80px; margin-bottom: 80px;">
+<img src="images/nettie.jpg" width="408" height="600" alt="Nettie comforts her Mother." title="" />
+<span class="caption smcap">Nettie comforts her Mother.</span>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>THE</h2>
+<h1>CARPENTER'S DAUGHTER.</h1>
+
+
+<p class="center" style="margin-top: 60px; margin-bottom: 60px;">"Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called<br/>
+the children of God."</p>
+
+
+<p class="center" style="margin-bottom: 60px;">BY THE AUTHORS OF "THE WIDE, WIDE WORLD," ETC. ETC.</p>
+
+
+<p class="center">WITH COLOURED FRONTISPIECE.</p>
+
+
+<p class="center" style="margin-top: 80px; margin-bottom: 80px;"><span style="font-size: larger;">LONDON:<br/>
+GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS,</span><br/>
+THE BROADWAY, LUDGATE.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<p style="margin: auto; width: 320px; border: 1px solid black; padding: 16px;">
+<span style="margin-bottom: 16px;">BY THE AUTHORS OF "THE WIDE, WIDE WORLD."</span><br/><br/>
+Price ONE SHILLING each, with coloured Frontispiece<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.4em;">THE TWO SCHOOLGIRLS.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.4em;">THE CARPENTER'S DAUGHTER.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.4em;">THE PRINCE IN DISGUISE.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.4em;">GERTRUDE AND HER BIBLE.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.4em;">MARTHA AND RACHEL.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.4em;">THE WIDOW AND HER DAUGHTER.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.4em;">THE LITTLE BLACK HEN.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2.4em;">THE ROSE IN THE DESERT.</span><br /><br/>
+GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS.
+</p>
+
+
+
+
+<p class="center" style="margin-top: 40px; margin-bottom: 80px;"></p>
+
+
+<p class="center">London: Savill, Edwards &amp; Co., Printers, Chandos Street.
+</p>
+
+
+
+<h2>CONTENTS.</h2>
+
+
+
+<table summary="Contents" style="margin-bottom: 40px;">
+<tr>
+<th class="right" style="padding-right: 20px;">CHAP.</th>
+<th>&nbsp;</th>
+<th class="right">PAGE</th>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="right" style="padding-right: 20px;">I.</td>
+<td>SATURDAY EVENING'S WORK</td>
+<td class="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">1</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="right" style="padding-right: 20px;">II.</td>
+<td>SUNDAY'S REST</td>
+<td class="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">20</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="right" style="padding-right: 20px;">III.</td>
+<td>NETTIE'S GARRET</td>
+<td class="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">55</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="right" style="padding-right: 20px;">IV.</td>
+<td style="padding-right: 40px;">THE BROWN CLOAK IN NOVEMBER</td>
+<td class="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">69</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="right" style="padding-right: 20px;">V.</td>
+<td>THE NEW BLANKET</td>
+<td class="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">82</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="right" style="padding-right: 20px;">VI.</td>
+<td>THE HOUSE-RAISING</td>
+<td class="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">97</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="right" style="padding-right: 20px;">VII.</td>
+<td>THE WAFFLES</td>
+<td class="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">112</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="right" style="padding-right: 20px;">VIII.</td>
+<td>THE GOLDEN CITY</td>
+<td class="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">135</a></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h1>THE CARPENTER'S DAUGHTER.</h1>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2 style="margin-top: 40px;"><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I.</h2>
+
+<h3>SATURDAY EVENING'S WORK.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Down in a little hollow, with the sides
+grown full of wild thorn, alder bushes, and
+stunted cedars, ran the stream of a clear
+spring. It ran over a bed of pebbly stones,
+showing every one as if there had been no
+water there, so clear it was; and it ran with
+a sweet soft murmur or gurgle over the stones,
+as if singing to itself and the bushes as it ran.</p>
+
+<p>On one side of the little stream a worn
+foot path took its course among the bushes;
+and down this path one summer's afternoon
+came a woman and a girl. They had pails
+to fill at the spring; the woman had a large
+wooden one, and the girl a light tin pail;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span>
+and they drew the water with a little tin
+dipper, for it was not deep enough to let a
+pail be used for that. The pails were filled
+in silence, only the spring always was singing;
+and the woman and the girl turned and went
+up the path again. After getting up the
+bank, which was only a few feet, the path
+still went gently rising through a wild bit of
+ground, full of trees and low bushes; and
+not far off, through the trees, there came a
+gleam of bright light from the window of a
+house, on which the setting sun was shining.
+Half way to the house the girl and the woman
+stopped to rest; for water is heavy, and the
+tin pail which was so light before it was
+filled, had made the little girl's figure bend
+over to one side like a willow branch all the
+way from the spring. They stopped to rest,
+and even the woman had a very weary, jaded
+look.</p>
+
+<p>"I feel as if I shall give up, some of these
+days," she exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>"O no, mother!" the little girl answered,
+cheerfully. She was panting, with her hand
+on her side, and her face had a quiet, very<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span>
+sober look; only at those words a little pleasant
+smile broke over it.</p>
+
+<p>"I shall," said the woman. "One can't
+stand everything,&mdash;for ever."</p>
+
+<p>The little girl had not got over panting
+yet, but standing there she struck up the
+sweet air and words,&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"'There is rest for the weary,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">There is rest for the weary,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">There is rest for the weary,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">There is rest for you.'"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>"Yes, in the grave!" said the woman, bitterly.
+"There's no rest short of that,&mdash;for
+mind or body."</p>
+
+<p>"O yes, mother dear. 'For we which have
+believed do enter into rest.' Jesus don't
+make us wait."</p>
+
+<p>"I believe you eat the Bible and sleep on
+the Bible," said the woman, with a faint
+smile, taking at the same time a corner of
+her apron to wipe away a stray tear which
+had gathered in her eye. "I am glad it rests
+you, Nettie."</p>
+
+<p>"And you, mother."</p>
+
+<p>"Sometimes," Mrs. Mathieson answered,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span>
+with a sigh. "But there's your father going
+to bring home a boarder, Nettie."</p>
+
+<p>"A boarder, mother!&mdash;What for?"</p>
+
+<p>"Heaven knows!&mdash;if it isn't to break my
+back, and my heart together. I thought I
+had enough to manage before, but here's this
+man coming, and I've got to get everything
+ready for him by to-morrow night."</p>
+
+<p>"Who is it, mother?"</p>
+
+<p>"It's one of your father's friends; so it's
+no good," said Mrs. Mathieson.</p>
+
+<p>"But where can he sleep?" Nettie asked,
+after a moment of thinking. Her mother
+paused.</p>
+
+<p>"There's no room but yours he can have.
+Barry wont be moved."</p>
+
+<p>"Where shall I sleep, mother?"</p>
+
+<p>"There's no place but up in the attic. I'll
+see what I can do to fit up a corner for you&mdash;if
+I ever can get time," said Mrs. Mathieson,
+taking up her pail. Nettie followed her
+example, and certainly did not smile again
+till they reached the house. They went
+round to the front door, because the back
+door belonged to another family. At the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span>
+door, as they set down their pails again before
+mounting the stairs, Nettie smiled at her
+mother very placidly, and said&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you go to fit up the attic, mother;
+I'll see to it in time. I can do it just as well."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Mathieson made no answer but
+groaned internally, and they went up the
+flight of stairs which led to their part of the
+house. The ground floor was occupied by
+somebody else. A little entry way at the
+top of the stairs received the wooden pail of
+water, and with the tin one Nettie went into
+the room used by the family. It was her
+father and mother's sleeping-room, their bed
+standing in one corner. It was the kitchen
+apparently, for a small cooking-stove was
+there, on which Nettie put the tea-kettle
+when she had filled it. And it was the
+common living-room also; for the next thing
+she did was to open a cupboard and take out
+cups and saucers and arrange them on a leaf
+table which stood toward one end of the
+room. The furniture was wooden and plain;
+the woodwork of the windows was unpainted;
+the cups and plates were of the commonest<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span>
+kind; and the floor had no covering but two
+strips of rag carpeting; nevertheless the
+whole was tidy and very clean, showing
+constant care. Mrs. Mathieson had sunk
+into a chair, as one who had no spirit to do
+anything; and watched her little daughter
+setting the table with eyes which seemed not
+to see her. They gazed inwardly at something
+she was thinking of.</p>
+
+<p>"Mother, what is there for supper?"</p>
+
+<p>"There is nothing. I must make some
+porridge." And Mrs. Mathieson got up from
+her chair.</p>
+
+<p>"Sit you still, mother, and I'll make it. I
+can."</p>
+
+<p>"If both our backs are to be broken," said
+Mrs. Mathieson, "I'd rather mine would
+break first." And she went on with her preparations.</p>
+
+<p>"But you don't like porridge," said Nettie.
+"You didn't eat anything last night."</p>
+
+<p>"That's nothing, child. I can bear an
+empty stomach, if only my brain wasn't quite
+so full."</p>
+
+<p>Nettie drew near the stove and looked on,
+a little sorrowfully.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span>
+"I wish you had something you liked,
+mother! If only I was a little older, wouldn't
+it be nice? I could earn something then,
+and I would bring you home things that you
+liked out of my own money."</p>
+
+<p>This was not said sorrowfully, but with a
+bright gleam as of some fancied and pleasant
+possibility. The gleam was so catching, Mrs.
+Mathieson turned from her porridge-pot
+which she was stirring, to give a very heartfelt
+kiss to Nettie's lips; then she stirred on,
+and the shadow came over her face again.</p>
+
+<p>"Dear," she said, "just go in Barry's room
+and straighten it up a little before he comes
+in&mdash;will you? I haven't had a minute to do
+it, all day; and there wont be a bit of peace
+if he comes in and it isn't in order."</p>
+
+<p>Nettie turned and opened another door,
+which let her into a small chamber used as
+somebody's bedroom. It was all brown, like
+the other; a strip of the same carpet in the
+middle of the floor, and a small cheap chest
+of drawers, and a table. The bed had not
+been made up, and the tossed condition of the
+bedclothes spoke for the strength and energy
+of the person that used them, whoever he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span>
+was. A pair of coarse shoes were in the
+middle of the whole; another pair, or rather
+a pair of half-boots, out at the toes, were in
+the middle of the floor; stockings, one under
+the bed and one under the table. On the
+table was a heap of confusion; and on the
+little bureau were to be seen pieces of wood,
+half cut and uncut, with shavings, and the
+knife and saw that had made them. Old
+newspapers, and school books, and a slate,
+and two kites, with no end of tail, were lying
+over every part of the room that happened
+to be convenient; also an ink bottle and
+pens; with chalk and resin and a medley of
+unimaginable things beside, that only boys
+can collect together and find delight in. If
+Nettie sighed as all this hurly-burly met her
+eye, it was only an internal sigh. She set
+about patiently bringing things to order.
+First made the bed, which it took all her
+strength to do: for the coverlets were of a
+very heavy and coarse manufacture of cotton
+and woollen mixed, blue and white; and
+then gradually found a way to bestow the
+various articles in Barry's apartment, so that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span>
+things looked neat and comfortable. But
+perhaps it was a little bit of a sign of
+Nettie's feeling, that she began softly to sing
+to herself,</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"'There is rest for the weary.'"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>"Hollo!" burst in a rude boy of some
+fifteen years, opening the door from the
+entry,&mdash;"who's puttin' my room to rights?"</p>
+
+<p>A very gentle voice said, "I've done it,
+Barry."</p>
+
+<p>"What have you done with that pine log?"</p>
+
+<p>"Here it is,&mdash;in the corner behind the
+bureau."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you touch it now, to take it for
+your fire,&mdash;mind, Nettie! Where's my
+kite?"</p>
+
+<p>"You wont have time to fly it now, Barry;
+supper will be ready in two minutes."</p>
+
+<p>"What you got?"</p>
+
+<p>"The same kind we had last night."</p>
+
+<p>"<em>I</em> don't care for supper." Barry was
+getting the tail of his kite together.</p>
+
+<p>"But please, Barry, come now; because it
+will make mother so much more trouble if<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span>
+you don't. She has the things to clear away
+after you're done, you know!"</p>
+
+<p>"Trouble! so much talk about trouble! <em>I</em>
+don't mind trouble. I don't want any supper,
+I tell you."</p>
+
+<p>Nettie knew well enough he would want it
+by and by, but there was no use in saying
+anything more, and she said nothing. Barry
+got his kite together and went off. Then
+came a heavier step on the stairs, which she
+knew; and she hastily went into the other
+room to see that all was ready. The tea was
+made, and Mrs. Mathieson put the smoking
+dish of porridge on the table, just as the door
+opened and a man came in. A tall, burly,
+strong man, with a face that would have been
+a good face enough if its expression had been
+different, and if its hue had not been that of
+a purplish-red flush. He came to the table
+and silently sat down as he took a survey of
+what was on it.</p>
+
+<p>"Give me a cup of tea! Have you got no
+bread, Sophia?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing but what you see. I hoped you
+would bring home some money, Mr. Mathieson.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span>
+I have neither milk nor bread; it's a
+mercy there's sugar. I don't know what you
+expect a lodger to live on."</p>
+
+<p>"Live on his board,&mdash;that'll give you
+enough. But you want something to begin
+with. I'd go out and get one or two things&mdash;but
+I'm so confounded tired. I can't."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Mathieson, without a word, put on a
+shawl and went to the closet for her bonnet.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll go, mother! Let me go, please. I
+want to go," exclaimed Nettie, eagerly. "I
+can get it. What shall I get, father?"</p>
+
+<p>Slowly and weariedly the mother laid off
+her things, as quickly the child put hers on.</p>
+
+<p>"What shall I get, father?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you can go down the street to
+Jackson's, and get what your mother wants:
+some milk and bread; and then you'd better
+fetch seven pounds of meal and a quart
+of treacle. And ask him to give you a nice
+piece of pork out of his barrel."</p>
+
+<p>"She can't bring all that!" exclaimed the
+mother; "you'd better go yourself, Mr.
+Mathieson. That would be a great deal more
+than the child can carry, or I either."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span>
+"Then I'll go twice, mother; it isn't far;
+I'd like to go. I'll get it. Please give me
+the money, father."</p>
+
+<p>He cursed and swore at her, for answer.
+"Go along, and do as you are bid, without
+all this chaffering! Go to Jackson's and tell
+him you want the things, and I'll give him
+the money to-morrow. He knows me."</p>
+
+<p>Nettie knew he did, and stood her ground.
+Her father was just enough in liquor to be a
+little thick-headed and foolish.</p>
+
+<p>"You know I can't go without the money,
+father," she said, gently; "and to-morrow is
+Sunday."</p>
+
+<p>He cursed Sunday and swore again, but
+finally put his hand in his pocket and threw
+some money across the table to her. He was
+just in a state not to be careful what he did,
+and he threw her crown-pieces where if he
+had been quite himself he would have given
+shillings. Nettie took them without any remark,
+and her basket, and went out.</p>
+
+<p>It was just sundown. The village lay glittering
+in the light, that would be gone in a
+few minutes; and up on the hill the white<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span>
+church, standing high, showed all bright in
+the sunbeams from its sparkling vane at the
+top of the spire down to the lowest step at
+the door. Nettie's home was in a branch-road,
+a few steps from the main street of the
+village that led up to the church at one end
+of it. All along that street the sunlight lay,
+on the grass and the roadway and the sidewalks
+and the tops of a few elm-trees. The
+street was empty; it was most people's
+supper-time. Nettie turned the corner and
+went down the village. She went slowly;
+her little feet were already tired with the
+work they had done that day, and back and
+arms and head all seemed tired too. But
+Nettie never thought it hard that her mother
+did not go instead of letting her go; she
+knew her mother could not bear to be seen
+in the village in the old shabby gown and
+shawl she wore; for Mrs. Mathieson had seen
+better days. And besides that, she would be
+busy enough as it was, and till a late hour,
+this Saturday night. Nettie's gown was
+shabby too; yes, very, compared with that
+almost every other child in the village wore;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span>
+yet somehow Nettie was not ashamed. She
+did not think of it now, as her slow steps took
+her down the village street; she was thinking
+what she should do about the money. Her
+father had given her two or three times as
+much, she knew, as he meant her to spend;
+he was a good workman, and had just got in
+his week's wages. What should Nettie do?
+Might she keep and give to her mother what
+was over? it was, and would be, so much
+wanted! and from her father they could
+never get it again. He had his own ways of
+disposing of what he earned, and very little
+of it indeed went to the wants of his wife and
+daughter. What might Nettie do? She
+pondered, swinging her basket in her hand,
+till she reached a corner where the village
+street turned off again, and where the store
+of Mr. Jackson stood. There she found
+Barry bargaining for some things he at least
+had money for.</p>
+
+<p>"O Barry, how good!" exclaimed Nettie;
+"you can help me carry my things home."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll know the reason first, though," answered
+Barry. "What are you going to
+get?"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span>
+"Father wants a bag of corn meal and a
+piece of pork and some treacle; and you
+know I can't carry them all, Barry. I've
+got to get bread and milk besides."</p>
+
+<p>"Hurra!" said Barry, "now we'll have
+fried cakes! I'll tell you what I'll do, Nettie&mdash;I'll
+take home the treacle, if you'll make
+me some to-night for supper."</p>
+
+<p>"O I can't, Barry! I've got so much else
+to do, and it's Saturday night."</p>
+
+<p>"Very good&mdash;get your things home yourself
+then."</p>
+
+<p>Barry turned away, and Nettie made her
+bargains. He still stood by however and
+watched her. When the pork and the meal
+and the treacle were bestowed in the basket,
+it was so heavy she could not manage to
+carry it. How many journeys to and fro
+would it cost her?</p>
+
+<p>"Barry," she said, "you take this home
+for me, and if mother says so, I'll make you
+the cakes."</p>
+
+<p>"Be quick then," said her brother,
+shouldering the basket, "for I'm getting
+hungry."</p>
+
+<p>Nettie went a few steps further on the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span>
+main road of the village, which was little
+besides one long street and not very long
+either; and went in at the door of a very
+little dwelling, neat and tidy like all the rest.
+It admitted her to the tiniest morsel of a
+shop&mdash;at least there was a long table there
+which seemed to do duty as a counter; and
+before, not behind, it sat a spruce little woman
+sewing. She jumped up as Nettie entered.
+By the becoming smartness of her calico
+dress and white collar, the beautiful order of
+her hair, and a certain peculiarity of feature,
+you might know before she spoke that the
+little baker was a Frenchwoman. She spoke
+English quite well, though not so fast as she
+spoke her own tongue.</p>
+
+<p>"I want two loaves of bread, Mrs. August;
+and a pint of milk, if you please."</p>
+
+<p>"How will you carry them, my child? you
+cannot take them all at the time."</p>
+
+<p>"O yes, I can," said Nettie, cheerfully. "I
+can manage. They are not heavy."</p>
+
+<p>"No, I hope not," said the Frenchwoman;
+"it is not heavy, my bread! but two loaves
+are not one, no more. Is your mother well?"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span>
+She then set busily about wrapping the
+loaves in paper and measuring out the milk.
+Nettie answered her mother was well.</p>
+
+<p>"And you?" said the little woman, looking
+at her sideways. "Somebody is tired this
+evening."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Nettie, brightly; "but I don't
+mind. One must be tired sometimes. Thank
+you, ma'am."</p>
+
+<p>The woman had put the loaves and the
+milk carefully in her arms and in her hand,
+so that she could carry them, and looked
+after her as she went up the street.</p>
+
+<p>"One must be tired sometimes!" said she
+to herself, with a turn of her capable little
+head. "I should like to hear her say 'One
+must be rested sometimes;' but I do not
+hear that."</p>
+
+<p>So perhaps Nettie thought, as she went
+homeward. It would have been very natural.
+Now the sun was down, the bright gleam
+was off the village; the soft shades of evening
+were gathering and lights twinkled in windows.
+Nettie walked very slowly, her arms full of
+the bread. Perhaps she wished her Saturday's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span>
+work was all done, like other people's.
+All I can tell you is, that as she went along
+through the quiet deserted street, all alone,
+she broke out softly singing to herself the
+words,</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"No need of the sun in that day<br /></span>
+<span class="i1a">Which never is followed by night."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>And that when she got home she ran up
+stairs quite briskly, and came in with a very
+placid face; and told her mother she had
+had a pleasant walk&mdash;which was perfectly
+true.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm glad, dear," said her mother, with a
+sigh. "What made it pleasant?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, mother," said Nettie, "Jesus was
+with me all the way."</p>
+
+<p>"God bless you, child!" said her mother;
+"you are the very rose of my heart!"</p>
+
+<p>There was only time for this little dialogue,
+for which Mr. Mathieson's slumbers had
+given a chance. But then Barry entered,
+and noisily claimed Nettie's promise. And
+without a cloud crossing her sweet brow, she
+made the cakes, and baked them on the
+stove, and served Barry until he had enough;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span>
+nor ever said how weary she was of being on
+her feet. There were some cakes left, and
+Mrs. Mathieson saw to it that Nettie sat down
+and ate them; and then sent her off to bed
+without suffering her to do anything more;
+though Nettie pleaded to be allowed to clear
+away the dishes. Mrs. Mathieson did that;
+and then sat down to make darns and patches
+on various articles of clothing, till the old
+clock of the church on the hill tolled out
+solemnly the hour of twelve all over the
+village.</p>
+
+
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II.</h2>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span></p>
+<h3>SUNDAY'S REST.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Nettie's room was the only room on
+that floor besides her mother's and Barry's.
+It was at the back of the house, with a
+pleasant look-out over the trees and bushes
+between it and the spring. Over these the
+view went to distant hills and fields, that
+always looked pretty in all sorts of lights,
+Nettie thought. Besides that, it was a clean,
+neat little room; bare to be sure, without
+even Barry's strip of rag carpet; but on a
+little black table lay Nettie's Bible and
+Sunday-school books; and each window had
+a chair; and a chest of drawers held all her
+little wardrobe and a great deal of room to
+spare besides; and the cot-bed in one corner
+was nicely made up. It was a very comfortable-looking
+room to Nettie.</p>
+
+<p>"So this is the last night I shall sleep
+here!" she thought as she went in. "To-morrow<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span>
+I must go up to the attic. Well,&mdash;I
+can pray there just the same; and God
+will be with me there just the same."</p>
+
+<p>It was a comfort; but it was the only one
+Nettie could think of in connexion with her
+removal. The attic was no room, but only
+a little garret used as a lumber place; not
+boarded up, nor plastered at all; nothing
+but the beams and the side-boarding for the
+walls, and nothing but the rafters and the
+shingles between it and the sky. Besides
+which, it was full of lumber of one sort and
+another. How Nettie was to move up there
+the next day, being Sunday, she could not
+imagine; but she was so tired that as soon
+as her head touched her pillow she fell fast
+asleep, and forgot to think about it.</p>
+
+<p>The next thing was the bright morning
+light rousing her, and the joyful thought that
+it was Sunday morning. A beautiful day it
+was. The eastern light was shining over
+upon Nettie's distant hills, with all sorts of
+fresh lovely colours and promise of what the
+coming hours would bring. Nettie looked
+at them lovingly, for she was very fond of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span>
+them and had a great many thoughts about
+those hills. "As the mountains are round
+about Jerusalem, so the Lord is round about
+his people;"&mdash;that was one thing they made
+her think of. She thought of it now as she
+was dressing, and it gave her the feeling of
+being surrounded with a mighty and strong
+protection on every side. It made Nettie's
+heart curiously glad, and her tongue speak of
+joyful things; for when she knelt down to
+pray she was full of thanksgiving.</p>
+
+<p>The next thing was, that taking her tin
+pail Nettie set off down to the spring to get
+water to boil the kettle. It was so sweet
+and pleasant&mdash;no other spring could supply
+nicer water. The dew brushed from the
+bushes and grass as she went by; and from
+every green thing there went up a fresh
+dewy smell that was reviving. The breath
+of the summer wind, moving gently, touched
+her cheek and fluttered her hair, and said
+God had given a beautiful day to the world;
+and Nettie thanked him in her heart and
+went on rejoicing. Sunday was Nettie's
+holiday, and Sunday-school and church were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span>
+her delight. And though she went in all
+weathers, and nothing would keep her, yet
+sunshine is sunshine; and she felt so this
+morning. So she gaily filled her pail at the
+spring and trudged back with it to the house.
+The next thing was to tap at her mother's
+door.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Mathieson opened it, in her nightgown;
+she was just up, and looked as if her
+night's sleep had been all too short for her.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, Nettie!&mdash;is it late?" she said, as
+Nettie and the tin pail came in.</p>
+
+<p>"No, mother; it's just good time. You
+get dressed, and I'll make the fire ready.
+It's beautiful out, mother."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Mathieson made no answer, and
+Nettie went to work with the fire. It was
+an easy matter to put in some paper and
+kindle the light wood; and when the kettle
+was on, Nettie went round the room softly
+setting it to rights as well as she could. Then
+glanced at her father, still sleeping.</p>
+
+<p>"I can't set the table yet, mother."</p>
+
+<p>"No, child; go off, and I'll see to the rest.
+If I can get folks up, at least," said Mrs.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span>
+Mathieson, somewhat despondingly. Sunday
+morning that was a doubtful business, she
+and Nettie knew. Nettie went to her own
+room to carry out a plan she had. If she
+could manage to get her things conveyed up
+to the attic without her mother knowing it,
+just so much labour and trouble would be
+spared her, and her mother might have a
+better chance of some rest that day. Little
+enough, with a lodger coming that evening!
+To get her things up there,&mdash;that was all
+Nettie would do to-day; but that must be
+done. The steep stairs to the attic went up
+from the entry way, just outside of Nettie's
+door. She went up the first time to see
+what place there was to bestow anything.</p>
+
+<p>The little garret was strewn all over with
+things carelessly thrown in, merely to get
+them out of the way. There was a small
+shutter window in each gable. One was
+open, just revealing the utter confusion; but
+half-showing the dust that lay on everything.
+The other window, the back one, was fairly
+shut up by a great heap of boxes and barrels
+piled against it. In no part was there a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span>
+clear space, or a hopeful opening. Nettie
+stood aghast for some moments, not knowing
+what to do. "But if I don't, mother will
+have to," she thought. It nerved her little
+arm, and one thought of her invisible protection
+nerved her heart, which had sunk at
+first coming up. Softly she moved and began
+her operations, lest her mother down stairs
+should hear and find out what she was about
+before it was done. Sunday too! But there
+was no help for it.</p>
+
+<p>Notwithstanding the pile of boxes, she
+resolved to begin at the end with the closed
+window; for near the other there were things
+she could not move: an old stove, a wheelbarrow,
+a box of heavy iron tools, and some
+bags of charcoal and other matters. By a
+little pushing and coaxing, Nettie made a
+place for the boxes, and then began her task
+of removing them. One by one, painfully,
+for some were unwieldy and some were
+weighty, they travelled across in Nettie's
+arms, or were shoved, or turned over and
+over across the floor, from the window to a
+snug position under the eaves where she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span>
+stowed them. Barry would have been a
+good hand at this business, not to speak of
+his father: but Nettie knew there was no
+help to be had from either of them; and the
+very thought of them did not come into her
+head. Mr. Mathieson, provided he worked
+at his trade, thought the "women-folks"
+might look after the house; Barry considered
+that when he had got through the heavy
+labours of school, he had done his part of the
+world's work. So Nettie toiled on with her
+boxes and barrels. They scratched her arms;
+they covered her clean face with dust; they
+tried her strength; but every effort saved
+one to her mother, and Nettie never stopped
+except to gather breath and rest.</p>
+
+<p>The last thing of all under the window
+was a great old chest. Nettie could not
+move it, and she concluded it might stay
+there very conveniently for a seat. All the
+rest of the pile she cleared away, and then
+opened the window. There was no sash;
+nothing but a wooden shutter fastened with
+a hook. Nettie threw it open. There, to
+her great joy, behold she had the very same<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span>
+view of her hills, all shining in the sun now.
+Only this window was higher than her old
+one, and lifted her up more above the tops of
+the trees, and gave a better and clearer and
+wider view of the distant open country she
+liked so much. Nettie was greatly delighted,
+and refreshed herself with a good look out
+and a breath of fresh air before she began
+her labours again. That gave the dust a
+little chance to settle, too.</p>
+
+<p>There was a good deal to do yet before
+she could have a place clear for her bed, not
+to speak of anything more. However, it was
+done at last; the floor brushed up, all ready,
+and the top of the chest wiped clean; and
+next Nettie set about bringing all her things
+up the stairs and setting them here, where
+she could. Her clothes, her little bit of a
+looking-glass, her Bible and books and slate,
+even her little washstand, she managed to
+lug up to the attic; with many a journey and
+much pains. But it was about done, before
+her mother called her to breakfast. The
+two lagging members of the family had been
+roused at last, and were seated at the table.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span>
+"Why, what have you been doing, child?
+how you look!" said Mrs. Mathieson.</p>
+
+<p>"How do I look?" said Nettie.</p>
+
+<p>"Queer enough," said her father.</p>
+
+<p>Nettie laughed, and hastened to another
+subject; she knew if they got upon this
+there would be some disagreeable words
+before it was over. She had made up her
+mind what to do, and now handed her father
+the money remaining from her purchases.
+"You gave me too much, father, last night,"
+she said, simply; "here is the rest." Mr.
+Mathieson took it and looked at it.</p>
+
+<p>"Did I give you all this?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, father."</p>
+
+<p>"Did you pay for what you got, besides?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>He muttered something which was very
+like an oath in his throat, and looked at his
+little daughter, who was quietly eating her
+breakfast. Something touched him unwontedly.</p>
+
+<p>"You're an honest little girl!" he said.
+"There! you may have that for yourself;"
+and he tossed her a shilling.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span>
+You could see, by a little streak of pink
+colour down each of Nettie's cheeks, that
+some great thought of pleasure had started
+into her mind. "For myself, father?" she
+repeated.</p>
+
+<p>"All for yourself," said Mr. Mathieson,
+buttoning up his money with a very satisfied
+air. Nettie said no more, only ate her
+breakfast a little quicker after that. It was
+time, too; for the late hours of some of the
+family always made her in a hurry about
+getting to Sunday-school; and the minute
+Nettie had done, she got her bonnet, her
+Sunday bonnet&mdash;the best she had to wear&mdash;and
+set off. Mrs. Mathieson never let her
+wait for anything at home <em>that</em> morning.</p>
+
+<p>This was Nettie's happy time. It never
+troubled her, that she had nothing but a sun-bonnet
+of white muslin, nicely starched and
+ironed, while almost all the other girls that
+came to the school had little straw bonnets
+trimmed with blue and pink and yellow and
+green ribbons; and some of them wore silk
+bonnets. Nettie did not even think of it; she
+loved her Sunday lesson, and her Bible, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span>
+her teacher, so much; and it was such a good
+time when she went to enjoy them all together.
+There was only a little way she had
+to go; for the road where Mrs. Mathieson
+lived, after running down a little further from
+the village, met another road which turned
+right up the hill to the church; or Nettie
+could take the other way, to the main village
+street, and straight up that. Generally she
+chose the forked way, because it was the
+emptiest.</p>
+
+<p>Nettie's class in the Sunday-school was of
+ten little girls about her own age; and their
+teacher was a very pleasant and kind gentleman,
+named Mr. Folke. Nettie loved him
+dearly; she would do anything that Mr.
+Folke told her to do. Their teacher was
+very apt to give the children a question to
+answer from the Bible; for which they had
+to look out texts during the week. This
+week the question was, "Who are happy?"
+and Nettie was very eager to know what
+answers the other girls would bring. She
+was in good time, and sat resting and
+watching the boys and girls and teachers as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span>
+they came in, before the school began. She
+was first there of all her class; and watching
+so eagerly to see those who were coming, that
+she did not know Mr. Folke was near till he
+spoke to her. Nettie started and turned.</p>
+
+<p>"How do you do?" said her teacher,
+kindly. "Are you quite well, Nettie, this
+morning?" For he thought she looked pale
+and tired. But her face coloured with
+pleasure and a smile shone all over it, as she
+told him she was very well.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you found out who are the happy
+people, Nettie?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Mr. Folke; I have found a verse.
+But I knew before."</p>
+
+<p>"I thought you did. Who are they,
+Nettie?"</p>
+
+<p>"Those that love Jesus, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Ay. In the Christian armour, you know,
+the feet are 'shod with the preparation of the
+Gospel of peace.' With the love of Jesus in
+our hearts, our feet can go over very rough
+ways and hardly feel that they are rough.
+Do you find it so?"</p>
+
+<p>"O yes, sir!"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span>
+He said no more, for others of the class
+now came up; and Nettie wondered how he
+knew, or if he knew, that she had a rough
+way to go over. But his words were a help
+and comfort to her. So was the whole
+lesson that day. The verses about the
+happy people were beautiful. The seven
+girls who sat on one side of Nettie repeated
+the blessings told of in the fifth chapter of
+Matthew, about the poor in spirit, the
+mourners, the meek, those that hunger and
+thirst after righteousness, the merciful, the
+pure in heart, and the peacemakers. Then
+came Nettie's verse. It was this:</p>
+
+<p>"Happy is he that hath the God of Jacob
+for his help, whose hope is in the Lord his
+God."</p>
+
+<p>The next girl gave the words of Jesus, "If
+ye know these things, happy are ye if ye do
+them."</p>
+
+<p>The last gave, "Blessed is he whose transgression
+is forgiven, whose sin is covered."</p>
+
+<p>Then came Mr. Folke's verse, and Nettie
+thought it was the most beautiful of all.
+"Blessed are they that do his commandments,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span>
+that they may have right to the tree
+of life, and may enter in through the gates
+into the city."</p>
+
+<p>Then Mr. Folke talked about that city;
+its streets of gold, and the gates of pearl,
+through which nothing that defileth can by
+any means enter. He told how Jesus will
+make his people happy there; how they will
+be with him, and all their tears wiped away.
+And Jesus will be their Shepherd; his sheep
+will not wander from him anymore; "and
+they shall see his face, and his name shall be
+in their foreheads." Nettie could hardly
+keep from crying as Mr. Folke went on; she
+felt as if she was half in heaven already, and
+it seemed very odd to cry for gladness; but
+she could not help it. Then the school
+closed with singing the hymn,</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"O how happy are they<br /></span>
+<span class="i1a">Who the Saviour obey,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1a">And have laid up their treasures above."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>From school they went to church, of course.
+A strange minister preached that day, and
+Nettie could not understand him always;
+but the words of the hymn and Mr. Folke's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span>
+words ran in her head then, and she was
+very happy all church time. And as she was
+walking home, still the tune and the words
+ran in her ears,</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Jesus all the day long<br /></span>
+<span class="i1a">Is my joy and my song;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">O that all his salvation might see!"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>So, thinking busily, Nettie got home and
+ran up stairs. What a change! It looked
+like a place very, very far from those gates of
+pearl.</p>
+
+<p>Her mother sat on one side of the stove,
+not dressed for church, and leaning her head
+on her hand. Mr. Mathieson was on the
+other side, talking and angry. Barry stood
+back, playing ball by himself by throwing it
+up and catching it again. The talk stopped
+at Nettie's entrance. She threw off her
+bonnet and began to set the table, hoping
+that would bring peace.</p>
+
+<p>"Your father don't want any dinner," said
+Mrs. Mathieson.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes I do!"&mdash;thundered her husband;
+"but I tell you I'll take anything now; so
+leave your cooking till supper&mdash;when Lumber<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span>
+will be here. Go on, child! and get your
+work done."</p>
+
+<p>There were no preparations for dinner,
+and Nettie was at a loss; and did not like to
+say anything for fear of bringing on a storm.
+Her mother looked both weary and out of
+temper. The kettle was boiling,&mdash;the only
+thing about the room that had a pleasant
+seeming.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you have a cup of tea, father?" said
+Nettie.</p>
+
+<p>"Anything you like&mdash;yes, a cup of tea
+will do; and hark'ye, child, I want a good
+stout supper got this afternoon. Your mother
+don't choose to hear me. Mr. Lumber is
+coming, and I want a good supper to make
+him think he's got to the right place. Do
+you hear, Nettie?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, father."</p>
+
+<p>Nettie went on to do the best she could.
+She warmed the remains of last night's
+porridge and gave it to Barry with treacle,
+to keep him quiet. Meanwhile she had
+made the tea, and toasted a slice of bread
+very nicely, though with great pains, for the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span>
+fire wasn't good; and the toast and a cup of
+tea she gave to her father. He eat it with
+an eagerness which let Nettie know she must
+make another slice as fast as possible.</p>
+
+<p>"Hollo! Nettie&mdash;I say, give us some of
+that, will you?" said Barry, finding his
+porridge poor in taste.</p>
+
+<p>"Barry, there isn't bread enough&mdash;I can't,"
+whispered Nettie. "We've got to keep a
+loaf for supper."</p>
+
+<p>"Eat what you've got, or let it alone!"
+thundered Mr. Mathieson, in the way he had
+when he was out of patience, and which
+always tried Nettie exceedingly.</p>
+
+<p>"She's got more," said Barry. "She's
+toasting two pieces this minute. I want
+one."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll knock you over, if you say another
+word," said his father. Nettie was frightened,
+for she saw he meant to have the whole,
+and she had destined a bit for her mother.
+However, when she gave her father his second
+slice, she ventured, and took the other with
+a cup of tea to the forlorn figure on the other
+side of the stove. Mrs. Mathieson took only<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span>
+the tea. But Mr. Mathieson's ire was roused
+afresh. Perhaps toast and tea didn't agree
+with him.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you got all ready for Mr. Lumber?"
+he said, in a tone of voice very unwilling to
+be pleased.</p>
+
+<p>"No," said his wife,&mdash;"I have had no
+chance. I have been cooking and clearing
+up all the morning. His room isn't ready."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you had better get it ready pretty
+quick. What's to do?"</p>
+
+<p>"Everything's to do," said Mrs. Mathieson.</p>
+
+<p>He swore at her. "Why can't you answer
+a plain question? I say, <em>what's</em> to do?"</p>
+
+<p>"There's all Nettie's things in the room
+at present. They are all to move up stairs,
+and the red bedstead to bring down."</p>
+
+<p>"No, mother," said Nettie, gently,&mdash;"all
+my things are up stairs already;&mdash;there's only
+the cot and the bed, that I couldn't move."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Mathieson gave no outward sign of
+the mixed feeling of pain and pleasure that
+shot through her heart. Pleasure at her
+child's thoughtful love, pain that she should
+have to show it in such a way.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span>
+"When did you do it, Nettie?"</p>
+
+<p>"This morning before breakfast, mother.
+It's all ready, father, if you or Barry would
+take up my cot and the bed, and bring down
+the other bedstead. It's too heavy for me."</p>
+
+<p>"That's what I call doing business and
+having some spirit," said her father. "Not
+sitting and letting your work come to you.
+Here, Nettie&mdash;I'll do the rest for you."</p>
+
+<p>Nettie ran with him to show him what
+was wanted; and Mr. Mathieson's strong
+arms had it all done very quickly. Nettie
+eagerly thanked him; and then seeing him
+in good-humour with her, she ventured something
+more.</p>
+
+<p>"Mother's very tired to-day, father," she
+whispered; "she'll feel better by and by if
+she has a little rest. Do you think you
+would mind helping me put up this bedstead?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, here goes!" said Mr. Mathieson.
+"Which piece belongs here, to begin with?"</p>
+
+<p>Nettie did not know much better than he;
+but putting not only her whole mind but
+also her whole heart into it, she managed to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span>
+find out and direct him successfully. Her
+part was hard work; she had to stand holding
+up the heavy end of the bedstead while her
+father fitted in the long pieces; and then she
+helped him to lace the cords, which had to
+be drawn very tight; and precious time was
+running away fast, and Nettie had had no
+dinner. But she stood patiently, with a
+thought in her heart which kept her in
+peace all the while. When it was done, Mr.
+Mathieson went out; and Nettie returned to
+her mother. She was sitting where she had
+left her. Barry was gone.</p>
+
+<p>"Mother, wont you have something to
+eat?"</p>
+
+<p>"I can't eat, child. Have you had anything
+yourself?"</p>
+
+<p>Nettie had seized a remnant of her father's
+toast, and was munching it hastily.</p>
+
+<p>"Mother, wont you put on your gown and
+come to church this afternoon? Do! It
+will rest you. Do, mother!"</p>
+
+<p>"You forget I've got to get supper, child.
+Your father doesn't think it necessary that
+anybody should rest, or go to church, or do<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span>
+anything except work. What he is thinking
+of, I am sure I don't know. There is no
+place to eat in but this room, and he is going
+to bring a stranger into it; and if I was
+dying I should have to get up for every meal
+that is wanted. I never thought I should
+come to live so! And I cannot dress myself,
+or prepare the victuals, or have a moment to
+myself, but I have the chance of Mr. Lumber
+and your father in here to look on! It is
+worse than a dog's life!"</p>
+
+<p>It looked pretty bad, Nettie thought. She
+did not know what to say. She began clearing
+away the things on the table.</p>
+
+<p>"And what sort of a man this Mr. Lumber
+is, I don't know. I dare say he is like his
+name&mdash;one of your father's cronies&mdash;a drinker
+and a swearer. And Mr. Mathieson will
+bring him here, to be on my hands! It will
+kill me before spring, if it lasts."</p>
+
+<p>"Couldn't there be a bed made somewhere
+else for Barry, mother? and then we could
+eat in there."</p>
+
+<p>"Where would you make it? I could
+curtain off a corner of this room, but Barry
+wouldn't have it, nor your father; and they'd<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span>
+all want to be close to the fire the minute
+the weather grows the least bit cool. No&mdash;there
+is nothing for me, but to live on till
+Death calls for me!"</p>
+
+<p>"Mother&mdash;Jesus said, 'He that liveth and
+believeth in me shall never die.'"</p>
+
+<p>"O yes!" said Mrs. Mathieson, with a kind
+of long-drawn groan, "I don't know how it
+will be about that! I get so put about, now
+in these times, that it seems to me I don't
+know my own soul!"</p>
+
+<p>"Mother, come to church this afternoon."</p>
+
+<p>"I can't, child. I've got to put up that
+man's bed and make it."</p>
+
+<p>"That is all done, mother, and the floor
+brushed up. Do come!"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, who put it up?"</p>
+
+<p>"Father and I."</p>
+
+<p>"Well! you do beat all, Nettie. But I
+can't, child; I haven't time."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, mother, plenty. There's all the
+hour of Sunday-school before church begins.
+Now do, mother!"</p>
+
+<p>"Well&mdash;you go off to school; and if I can,
+maybe I will. You go right off, Nettie."</p>
+
+<p>Nettie went, feeling weary and empty by<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span>
+dint of hard work and a dinner of a small bit
+of dry toast. But she thought little about
+that. She wanted to ask Mr. Folke a
+question.</p>
+
+<p>The lesson that afternoon was upon the
+peacemakers; and Mr. Folke asked the
+children what ways they knew of being a
+peacemaker? The answer somehow was not
+very ready.</p>
+
+<p>"Isn't it to stop people from quarrelling?"
+one child asked.</p>
+
+<p>"How can you do that, Kizzy?"</p>
+
+<p>Kizzy seemed doubtful. "I could ask
+them to stop," she said.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, suppose you did. Would angry
+people mind your asking?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know, sir. If they were very
+angry, I suppose they wouldn't."</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps not. One thing is certain,
+Kizzy; you must have peace in your own
+heart, to give you the least chance."</p>
+
+<p>"How, Mr. Folke?"</p>
+
+<p>"If you want to put out a fire, you must
+not stick into it something that will catch?"</p>
+
+<p>"That would make the fire worse," said
+one of the girls.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span>
+"Certainly. So if you want to touch
+quarrelsome spirits with the least hope of
+softening them, you must be so full of the
+love of Jesus yourself that nothing but love
+can come out of your own spirit. You see it
+means a good deal, to be a peacemaker."</p>
+
+<p>"I always thought that must be one of the
+easiest things of the whole lot," said one of
+the class.</p>
+
+<p>"You wont find it so, I think; or rather
+you will find they are all parts of the same
+character, and the blessing is one. But there
+are more ways of being a peacemaker.
+What do you do when the hinge of a door
+creaks?"</p>
+
+<p>One said "she didn't know;" another said
+"Nothing." "I stop my ears," said a third.
+Mr. Folke laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"<em>That</em> would not do for a peacemaker,"
+he said. "Don't you know what makes
+machinery work smoothly?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oil!" cried Kizzy.</p>
+
+<p>"Oil to be sure. One little drop of oil
+will stop ever so much creaking and groaning
+and complaining, of hinges and wheels and
+all sorts of machines. Now, peoples' tempers<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span>
+are like wheels and hinges&mdash;but what sort of
+oil shall we use?"</p>
+
+<p>The girls looked at each other, and then
+one of them said, "Kindness."</p>
+
+<p>"To be sure! A gentle word, a look of
+love, a little bit of kindness, will smooth
+down a roughened temper or a wry face, and
+soften a hard piece of work, and make all go
+easily. And so of reproving sinners. The
+Psalmist says, 'Let the righteous smite me;
+it shall be a kindness: and let him reprove
+me; it shall be an excellent oil, which shall
+not break my head.' But you see the peacemaker
+must be righteous himself, or he
+hasn't the oil. Love is the oil; the love of
+Jesus."</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Folke," said Nettie, timidly, "wasn't
+Jesus a peacemaker?"</p>
+
+<p>"The greatest that ever lived!" said Mr.
+Folke, his eyes lighting up with pleasure at
+her question. "He made all the peace
+there is in the world, for he bought it, when
+he died on the cross to reconcile man with
+God. All our drops of oil were bought with
+drops of blood."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span>
+"And," said Nettie, hesitatingly, "Mr.
+Folke, isn't that one way of being a peacemaker?"</p>
+
+<p>"What?"</p>
+
+<p>"I mean, to persuade people to be at
+peace with him?"</p>
+
+<p>"That is the way above all others, my
+child; that is truly to be the 'children of
+God.' Jesus came and preached peace; and
+that is what his servants are doing, and will
+do, till he comes. And 'they shall be called
+the children of God.' 'Beloved, if God so
+loved us, we ought also to love one another.'"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Folke paused, with a face so full of
+thought, of eagerness, and of love, that none
+of the children spoke and some of them
+wondered. And before Mr. Folke spoke
+again the superintendent's little bell rang;
+and they all stood up to sing. But Nettie
+Mathieson hardly could sing; it seemed to
+her so glorious a thing to be <em>that</em> sort of a
+peacemaker. Could she be one? But the
+Lord blessed the peacemakers; then it must
+be his will that all his children should be
+such; then he would enable her to be one!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span>
+It was a great thought. Nettie's heart
+swelled, with hope and joy and prayer. She
+knew whose peace she longed for, first of all.</p>
+
+<p>Her mother had now come to church; so
+Nettie enjoyed all the services with nothing
+to hinder. Then they walked home together,
+not speaking much to each other, but every
+step of the way pleasant in the Sunday afternoon
+light, till they got to their own door.
+Nettie knew what her mother's sigh meant,
+as they mounted the stairs. Happily,
+nobody was at home yet but themselves.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, mother," said Nettie, when she had
+changed her dress and come to the common
+room,&mdash;"what's to be for supper? I'll get it.
+You sit still and read, if you want to, while
+it's quiet. What must we have?"</p>
+
+<p>"There is not a great deal to do," said
+Mrs. Mathieson. "I boiled the pork this
+morning, and that was what set your father
+up so; that's ready; and he says there must
+be cakes. The potatoes are all ready to put
+down&mdash;I was going to boil 'em this morning,
+and he stopped me."</p>
+
+<p>Nettie looked grave about the cakes.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span>
+"However, mother," she said, "I don't believe
+that little loaf of bread would last, even if
+you and I didn't touch it; it is not very big."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Mathieson wearily sat down and took
+her Testament, as Nettie begged her; and
+Nettie put on the kettle and the pot of
+potatoes, and made the cakes ready to bake.
+The table was set, and the treacle and everything
+on it, except the hot things, when
+Barry burst in.</p>
+
+<p>"Hollo, cakes!&mdash;hollo, treacle!" he shouted.
+"Pork and treacle&mdash;that's the right sort of
+thing. Now we're going to live something
+like."</p>
+
+<p>"Hush, Barry, don't make such a noise,"
+said his sister. "You know it's Sunday
+evening."</p>
+
+<p>"Sunday! well, what about Sunday?
+What's Sunday good for, except to eat, I
+should like to know?"</p>
+
+<p>"O Barry!"</p>
+
+<p>"O Barry!" said he, mimicking her. "Come,
+shut up, and fry your cake. Father and
+Lumber will be here just now."</p>
+
+<p>Nettie hushed, as she was bade; and as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span>
+soon as her father's step was heard below,
+she went to frying cakes with all her might.
+She just turned her head to give one look at
+Mr. Lumber as he came in. He appeared
+to her very like her father, but without the
+recommendation which her affection gave
+to Mr. Mathieson. A big, strong, burly fellow,
+with the same tinges of red about his face,
+that the summer sun had never brought
+there. Nettie did not want to look again.</p>
+
+<p>She had a good specimen this evening of
+what they might expect in future. Mrs.
+Mathieson poured out the tea, and Nettie
+baked the cakes; and perhaps because she
+was almost faint for want of something to
+eat, she thought no three people ever ate so
+many griddle cakes before at one meal. In
+vain plateful after plateful went upon the
+board, and Nettie baked them as fast as she
+could; they were eaten just as fast; and
+when finally the chairs were pushed back,
+and the men went down stairs, Nettie and
+her mother looked at each other.</p>
+
+<p>"There's only one left, mother," said Nettie.</p>
+
+<p>"And he has eaten certainly half the piece<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span>
+of pork," said Mrs. Mathieson. "Come, child,
+take something yourself; you're ready to
+drop. I'll clear away."</p>
+
+<p>But it is beyond the power of any disturbance
+to take away the gladness of a heart
+where Jesus is. Nettie's bread was sweet to
+her, even that evening. Before she had well
+finished her supper, her father and his lodger
+came back. They sat down on either side
+the fire and began to talk,&mdash;of politics, and of
+their work on which they were then engaged,
+with their employers and their fellow-workmen;
+of the state of business in the village,
+and profits and losses, and the success of particular
+men in making money. They talked
+loudly and eagerly; and Nettie had to go
+round and round them, to get to the fire for
+hot water and back to the table to wash up
+the cups and plates. Her mother was helping
+at the table, but to get round Mr. Lumber
+to the pot of hot water on the fire every now
+and then, fell to Nettie's share. It was not
+a very nice ending of her sweet Sabbath day,
+she thought. The dishes were done and put
+away, and still the talk went on as hard<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span>
+as ever. It was sometimes a pleasure to
+Nettie's father to hear her sing hymns of a
+Sunday evening. Nettie watched for a
+chance, and the first time there was a lull of
+the voices of the two men, she asked, softly,
+"Shall I sing, father?" Mr. Mathieson
+hesitated, and then answered, "No, better
+not, Nettie; Mr. Lumber might not find it
+amusing;" and the talk began again. Nettie
+waited a little longer, feeling exceedingly
+tired; then she rose and lit a candle.</p>
+
+<p>"What are you doing, Nettie?" her mother
+said.</p>
+
+<p>"I am going to bed, mother."</p>
+
+<p>"You can't take a candle up there, child!
+the attic's all full of things, and you'd certainly
+set us on fire."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll take great care, mother."</p>
+
+<p>"But you can't, child! The wind might
+blow the snuff of your candle right into something
+that would be all a flame by the
+time you're asleep. You must manage without
+a light somehow."</p>
+
+<p>"But I can't see to find my way," said
+Nettie, who was secretly trembling with fear.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span>
+"I'll light you then, for once, and you'll
+soon learn the way. Give me the candle."</p>
+
+<p>Nettie hushed the words that came crowding
+into her mouth, and clambered up the
+steep stairs to the attic. Mrs. Mathieson
+followed her with the candle till she got to
+the top, and there she held it till Nettie had
+found her way to the other end where her
+bed was. Then she said good-night and
+went down.</p>
+
+<p>The little square shutter of the window
+was open, and a ray of moonlight streamed
+in upon the bed. It was nicely made up;
+Nettie saw that her mother had been there
+and had done that for her and wrought a
+little more space and order among the things
+around the bed. But the moonlight did not
+get in far enough to show much more. Just
+a little of this thing and of that could be
+seen; a corner of a chest, or a gleam on the
+side of a meal bag; the half light showed
+nothing clearly except the confused fulness
+of the little attic. Nettie had given her head
+a blow against a piece of timber as she came
+through it; and she sat down upon her little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span>
+bed, feeling rather miserable. Her fear was
+that the rats might visit her up there. She
+did not certainly know that there were rats
+in the attic, but she had been fearing to think
+of them and did not dare to ask; as well as
+unwilling to give trouble to her mother; for
+if they <em>did</em> come there, Nettie did not see
+how the matter could be mended. She sat
+down on her little bed, so much frightened
+that she forgot how tired she was. Her ears
+were as sharp as needles, listening to hear
+the scrape of a rat's tooth upon a timber or
+the patter of his feet over the floor.</p>
+
+<p>For a few minutes Nettie almost thought
+she could not sleep up there alone, and must
+go down and implore her mother to let her
+spread her bed in a corner of her room. But
+what a bustle that would make. Her mother
+would be troubled, and her father would be
+angry, and the lodger would be disturbed,
+and there was no telling how much harm
+would come of it. No; the peacemaker of
+the family must not do that. And then the
+words floated into Nettie's mind again,
+"Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span>
+be called the children of God." Like a strain
+of the sweetest music it floated in; and if an
+angel had come and brought the words
+straight to Nettie, she could not have been
+more comforted. She felt the rats could not
+hurt her while she was within hearing of
+that music; and she got up and kneeled
+down upon the chest under the little window
+and looked out.</p>
+
+<p>It was like the day that had passed; not
+like the evening. So purely and softly the
+moonbeams lay on all the fields and trees
+and hills, there was no sign of anything but
+peace and purity to be seen. No noise of
+men's work or voices; no clangour of the
+iron foundry which on weekdays might be
+heard; no sight of anything unlovely; but
+the wide beauty which God had made, and
+the still peace and light which he had spread
+over it. Every little flapping leaf seemed to
+Nettie to tell of its Maker; and the music of
+those words seemed to be all through the
+still air&mdash;"Blessed are the peacemakers, for
+they shall be called the children of God."
+Tears of gladness and hope slowly gathered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span>
+in Nettie's eyes. The children of God will
+enter in, by and by, through those pearly
+gates, into that city of gold,&mdash;"where they
+need no candle, neither light of the sun, for
+the Lord God giveth them light." "So he can
+give me light here&mdash;or what's better than
+light," thought Nettie. "God isn't only out
+there, in all that beautiful moonlight world&mdash;he
+is here in my poor little attic too; and
+he will take just as good care of me as he
+does of the birds, and better, for I am his
+child, and they are only his beautiful little
+servants."</p>
+
+<p>Nettie's fear was gone. She prayed her
+evening prayer; she trusted herself to the
+Lord Jesus to take care of her; and then she
+undressed herself and lay down and went to
+sleep, just as quietly as any sparrow of them
+all with its head under its wing.</p>
+
+
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III.</h2>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span></p>
+<h3>NETTIE'S GARRET.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Nettie's attic grew to be a good place to
+her. She never heard the least sound of rats;
+and it was so nicely out of the way. Barry
+never came up there, and there she could not
+even hear the voices of her father and Mr.
+Lumber. She had a tired time of it down
+stairs.</p>
+
+<p>That first afternoon was a good specimen
+of the way things went on. Nettie's mornings
+were always spent at school; Mrs.
+Mathieson would have that, as she said,
+whether she could get along without Nettie
+or no. From the time Nettie got home till
+she went to bed, she was as busy as she could
+be. There was so much bread to make, and
+so much beef and pork to boil, and so much
+washing of pots and kettles; and at meal
+times there were very often cakes to fry, besides
+all the other preparations. Mr. Mathieson<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span>
+seemed to have made up his mind
+that his lodger's rent should all go to the
+table and be eaten up immediately; but
+the difficulty was to make as much as he expected
+of it in that line; for now he brought
+none of his own earnings home, and Mrs.
+Mathieson had more than a sad guess where
+they went. By degrees he came to be very
+little at home in the evenings, and he carried
+off Barry with him. Nettie saw her mother
+burdened with a great outward and inward
+care at once, and stood in the breach all she
+could. She worked to the extent of her
+strength, and beyond it, in the endless getting
+and clearing away of meals; and watching
+every chance, when the men were out of the
+way, she would coax her mother to sit down
+and read a chapter in her Testament. "It
+will rest you so, mother," Nettie would say;
+"and I will make the bread just as soon as I
+get the dishes done. Do let me! I like to
+do it."</p>
+
+<p>Sometimes Mrs. Mathieson could not be
+persuaded; sometimes she would yield, in
+a despondent kind of way, and sit down<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span>
+with her Testament and look at it as if
+neither there nor anywhere else in the universe
+could she find rest or comfort any more.</p>
+
+<p>"It don't signify, child," she said, one afternoon
+when Nettie had been urging her to sit
+down and read. "I haven't the heart to do
+anything. We're all driving to rack and ruin
+just as fast as we can go."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh no, mother!" said Nettie. "I don't
+think we are."</p>
+
+<p>"I am sure of it. I see it coming every
+day. Every day it is a little worse; and
+Barry is going along with your father; and
+they are destroying me among them, body
+and soul too."</p>
+
+<p>"No, mother," said Nettie, "I don't think
+that. I have prayed the Lord Jesus, and
+you know he has promised to hear prayer;
+and I know we are not going to ruin."</p>
+
+<p>"<em>You</em> are not, child, I believe; but you
+are the only one of us that isn't. I wish I
+was dead, to be out of my misery!"</p>
+
+<p>"Sit down, mother, and read a little bit;
+and don't talk so. Do, mother! It will be
+an hour and more yet to supper, and I'll get<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span>
+it ready. You sit down and read, and I'll
+make the shortcakes. Do, mother! and
+you'll feel better."</p>
+
+<p>It was half despair and half persuasion
+that made her do it; but Mrs. Mathieson
+did sit down by the open window and take
+her Testament; and Nettie flew quietly
+about, making her shortcakes and making
+up the fire and setting the table, and through
+it all casting many a loving glance over to
+the open book in her mother's hand and the
+weary, stony face that was bent over it.
+Nettie had not said how her own back was
+aching, and she forgot it almost in her business
+and her thoughts; though by the time
+her work was done her head was aching
+wearily too. But cakes and table and fire
+and everything else were in readiness; and
+Nettie stole up behind her mother and leaned
+over her shoulder; leaned a little heavily.</p>
+
+<p><a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> "Don't that chapter comfort you, mother?"
+she whispered.</p>
+
+<p>"No. It don't seem to me as I've got any<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span>
+feeling left," said Mrs. Mathieson. It was
+the fourth chapter of John at which they
+were both looking.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't it comfort you to read of Jesus
+being wearied?" Nettie went on, her head
+lying on her mother's shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>"Why should it, child?"</p>
+
+<p>"I like to read it," said Nettie. "Then I
+know he knows how I feel sometimes."</p>
+
+<p>"God knows everything, Nettie."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, mother; but then Jesus <em>felt</em> it. 'He
+took our infirmities.' And oh, mother, don't
+you love that tenth verse?&mdash;and the thirteenth
+and fourteenth?"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Mathieson looked at it, silently; then
+she said, "I don't rightly understand it,
+Nettie. I suppose I ought to do so,&mdash;but I
+don't."</p>
+
+<p>"Why, mother! I understand it. It
+means, that if Jesus makes you happy,
+you'll never be unhappy again. 'Whosoever
+drinketh of the water that I shall give him,
+<em>shall never thirst</em>,'&mdash;don't you see, mother?
+'Shall never thirst,'&mdash;he will have enough,
+and be satisfied."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span>
+"How do you know it, Nettie?" her mother
+asked, in a puzzled kind of way.</p>
+
+<p>"I know it, mother, because Jesus has
+given that living water to me."</p>
+
+<p>"He never gave it to me," said Mrs.
+Mathieson, in the same tone.</p>
+
+<p>"But he <em>will</em>, mother. Look up there&mdash;oh,
+how I love that tenth verse!&mdash;'If thou
+knewest the gift of God, and who it is that
+saith to thee, Give me to drink; thou wouldest
+have asked of him, and he would have given
+thee living water.' See, mother,&mdash;he will
+give, if we ask."</p>
+
+<p>"And do you feel so, Nettie?&mdash;that you
+have enough, and are satisfied with your life
+every day?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, mother," Nettie said, quietly; "I
+am very happy. I am happy all the time;
+because I think that Jesus is with me everywhere;
+when I'm upstairs, and when I'm
+busy here, and when I'm at school, and when
+I go to the spring; and all times. And
+that makes me very happy."</p>
+
+<p>"And don't you wish for anything you
+haven't got?" said her mother.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span>
+"Yes, one thing," said Nettie. "I just
+wish that you and father and Barry may be
+so happy too; and I believe that's coming;
+for I've prayed the Lord, and I believe he
+will give it to me. I want it for other people
+too. I often think, when I am looking at
+somebody, of those words&mdash;'If thou knewest
+the gift of God, thou wouldest have asked
+of him, and he would have given thee living
+water.'"</p>
+
+<p>With that, Mrs. Mathieson cast down her
+book and burst into such a passion of weeping
+that Nettie was frightened. It was like the
+breaking up of an icy winter. She flung her
+apron over her head and sobbed aloud; till
+hearing the steps of the men upon the
+staircase she rushed off to Barry's room, and
+presently got quiet, for she came out to
+supper as if nothing had happened.</p>
+
+<p>From that time there was a gentler mood
+upon her mother, Nettie saw; though she
+looked weary and careworn as ever, there
+was not now often the hard, dogged look
+which had been wont to be there for months
+past. Nettie had no difficulty to get her to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span>
+read the Testament; and of all things, what
+she liked was to get a quiet hour of an evening
+alone with Nettie and hear her sing hymns.
+But both Nettie and she had a great deal, as
+Mrs. Mathieson said, "to put up with."</p>
+
+<p>As weeks went on, the father of the family
+was more and more out at nights, and less
+and less agreeable when he was at home. He
+and his friend Lumber helped each other in
+mischief: they went together to Jackson's
+shop and spent time in lounging and gossiping
+and talking politics there; and what was
+worse, they made the time and the politics
+go down with draughts of liquor. Less and
+less money came to Mrs. Mathieson's hand;
+but her husband always required what he
+called a good meal to be ready for him and
+his lodger whenever he came home, and
+made no difference in his expectations
+whether he had provided the means or not.
+The lodger's rent and board had been at
+first given for the household daily expenses;
+but then Mr. Mathieson began to pay over a
+smaller sum, saying that it was all that was
+due; and Mrs. Mathieson suspected that the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span>
+rest had been paid away already for brandy.
+Then Mr. Mathieson told her to trade at
+Jackson's on account, and he would settle
+the bill. Mrs. Mathieson held off from this
+as long as it was possible. She and Nettie
+did their very best to make the little that
+was given them go a good way; they wasted
+not a crumb nor a penny, and did not spend
+on themselves what they really wanted; that
+they might not have the fearful storm of
+anger which was sure to come if the dinner
+was not plentiful and the supper did not
+please the taste of Mr. Mathieson and his
+lodger. By degrees it came to be very customary
+for Mrs. Mathieson and Nettie to
+make their meal of porridge and bread, after
+all the more savoury food had been devoured
+by the others; and many a weary patch and
+darn filled the night hours because they had
+not money to buy a cheap dress or two.
+Nettie bore it very patiently. Mrs. Mathieson
+was sometimes impatient.</p>
+
+<p>"This wont last me through the week, to
+get the things you want," she said one
+Saturday to her husband, when he gave<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span>
+her what he said was Lumber's payment to
+him.</p>
+
+<p>"You'll have to make it last," said he,
+gruffly.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you tell me how I'm going to do
+that? Here isn't more than half what you
+gave me at first."</p>
+
+<p>"Send to Jackson's for what you want!"
+he roared at her; "didn't I tell you so? and
+don't come bothering me with your noise."</p>
+
+<p>"When will you pay Jackson?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'll pay you first!" he said, with an oath,
+and very violently. It was a ruder word
+than he had ever said to her before, and Mrs.
+Mathieson was staggered for a moment by it;
+but there was another word she was determined
+to say.</p>
+
+<p>"You may do what you like to me," she
+said, doggedly; "but I should think you
+would see for yourself that Nettie has too
+much to get along with. She is getting just
+as thin and pale as she can be."</p>
+
+<p>"That's just your fool's nonsense!" said
+Mr. Mathieson; but he spoke it more quietly.
+Nettie just then entered the room.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span>
+"Here, Nettie, what ails you? Come
+here. Let's look at you. Aint you as strong
+as ever you was? Here's your mother says
+you're getting puny."</p>
+
+<p>Nettie's smile and answer were so placid
+and untroubled, and the little colour that
+rose in her cheeks at her father's question
+made her look so fresh and well, that he was
+quieted. He drew her to his arms, for his
+gentle dutiful little daughter had a place in
+his respect and affection both, though he did
+not often show it very broadly; but now he
+kissed her.</p>
+
+<p>"There!" said he; "don't you go to
+growing thin and weak without telling me,
+for I don't like such doings. You tell me
+when you want anything." But with that,
+Mr. Mathieson got up and went off, out of the
+house; and Nettie had small chance to tell
+him if she wanted anything. However, this
+little word and kiss were a great comfort and
+pleasure to her. It was the last she had
+from him in a good while.</p>
+
+<p>Nettie, however, was not working for
+praise or kisses, and very little of either she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span>
+got. Generally her father was rough, imperious,
+impatient, speaking fast enough if
+anything went wrong, but very sparing in
+expressions of pleasure. Sometimes a blessing
+did come upon her from the very depth
+of Mrs. Mathieson's heart, and went straight
+to Nettie's; but it was for another blessing
+she laboured, and prayed, and waited.</p>
+
+<p>So weeks went by. So her patient little
+feet went up and down the stairs with pails
+of water from the spring; and her hands
+made bread and baked cakes, and set rooms
+in order; and it was Nettie always who went
+to Mr. Jackson's for meal and treacle, and to
+Mrs. Auguste's, the little Frenchwoman's, as
+she was called, for a loaf when they were
+now and then out of bread. And with her
+mornings spent at school, Nettie's days were
+very busy ones; and the feet that at night
+mounted the steps to her attic room were
+aching and tired enough. All the more that
+now Nettie and her mother lived half the
+the time on porridge; all the provision they
+dared make of other things being quite consumed
+by the three hearty appetites that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span>
+were before them at the meal. And Nettie's
+appetite was not at all hearty, and sometimes
+she could hardly eat at all.</p>
+
+<p>As the summer passed away it began to
+grow cold, too, up in her garret. Nettie had
+never thought of that. As long as the summer
+sun warmed the roof well in the day, and
+only the soft summer wind played in and
+out of her window at night, it was all very
+well; and Nettie thought her sleeping-chamber
+was the best in the whole house, for it was
+nearest the sky. But August departed with
+its sunny days, and September grew cool at
+evening; and October brought still sunny
+days, it is true, but the nights had a clear
+sharp frost in them; and Nettie was obliged
+to cover herself up warm in bed and look at
+the moonlight and the stars as she could see
+them through the little square opening left
+by the shutter. The stars looked very lovely
+to Nettie, when they peeped at her so, in her
+bed, out of their high heaven; and she was
+very content.</p>
+
+<p>Then came November; and the winds
+began to come into the garret, not only<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span>
+through the open window, but through every
+crack between two boards. The whole garret
+was filled with the winds, Nettie thought.
+It was hard managing then. Shutting the
+shutter would bar out the stars, but not the
+wind, she found; and to keep from being
+quite chilled through at her times of prayer
+morning and evening, Nettie used to take
+the blanket and coverlets from the bed and
+wrap herself in them. It was all she could
+do. Still, she forgot the inconveniences;
+and her little garret chamber seemed to
+Nettie very near heaven, as well as near the
+sky.</p>
+
+<p>But all this way of life did not make her
+grow strong, nor rosy; and though Nettie
+never told her father that she wanted anything,
+her mother's heart measured the times
+when it ought to be told.</p>
+
+
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV.</h2>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span></p>
+<h3>THE BROWN CLOAK IN NOVEMBER.</h3>
+
+
+<p>November days drew toward an end; December
+was near. One afternoon Mrs.
+Mathieson, wanting Nettie, went to the foot
+of the garret stairs to call her, and stopped,
+hearing Nettie's voice singing. It was a
+clear, bird-like voice, and Mrs. Mathieson
+listened; at first she could not distinguish
+the words, but then came a refrain which
+was plain enough.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Glory, glory, glory, glory,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Glory be to God on high,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1a">Glory, glory, glory, glory,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Sing his praises through the sky;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1a">Glory, glory, glory, glory,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Glory to the Father give,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1a">Glory, glory, glory, glory,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Sing his praises all that live."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Mrs. Mathieson's heart gave way. She sat
+down on the lowest step and cried, for very
+soreness of heart. But work must be done;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span>
+and when the song had ceased, for it went
+on some time, Mrs. Mathieson wiped her
+tears with her apron and called, "Nettie!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, mother. Coming."</p>
+
+<p>"Fetch down your school-cloak, child."</p>
+
+<p>She went back to her room, and presently
+Nettie came in with the cloak, looking placid
+as usual, but very pale.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you singing up there to keep yourself
+warm, child?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, mother, I don't know but it does,"
+Nettie answered, smiling. "My garret did
+seem to me full of glory just now; and it
+often does, mother."</p>
+
+<p>"The Lord save us!" exclaimed Mrs.
+Mathieson, bursting into tears again. "I
+believe you're in a way to be going above,
+before my face!"</p>
+
+<p>"Now, mother, what sort of a way is that
+of talking?" said Nettie, looking troubled.
+"You know I can't die till Jesus bids me;
+and I don't think he is going to take me
+now. What did you want me to do?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing. You aint fit. I must go and
+do it myself."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span>
+"Yes I am fit. I like to do it," said
+Nettie. "What is it, mother?"</p>
+
+<p>"Somebody's got to go to Mr. Jackson's&mdash;but
+you aint fit, child; you eat next to none
+at noon. You can't live on porridge."</p>
+
+<p>"I like it, mother; but I wasn't hungry.
+What's wanting from Jackson's?"</p>
+
+<p>Nettie put on her cloak, and took her
+basket and went out. It was after sundown
+already, and a keen wind swept through the
+village street, and swept through Nettie's
+brown cloak too, tight as she wrapped it
+about her. But though she was cold and
+blue, and the wind seemed to go through
+<em>her</em> as well as the cloak, Nettie was thinking
+of something else. She knew that her
+mother had eaten a very scanty, poor sort of
+dinner, as well as herself, and that <em>she</em> often
+looked pale and wan; and Nettie was almost
+ready to wish she had not given the last
+penny of her shilling, on Sunday, to the
+missionary-box. When her father had given
+her the coin, she had meant then to keep it
+to buy something now and then for her
+mother; but it was not immediately needed,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span>
+and one by one the pennies had gone to
+buy tracts, or as a mite to the fund for
+sending Bibles or missionaries to those who
+did not know how to sing Nettie's song of
+"glory."</p>
+
+<p>She wondered to herself now if she had
+done quite right; she could not help thinking
+that if she had one penny she could buy a
+smoked herring, which, with a bit of bread
+and tea, would make a comfortable supper
+for her mother, which she could relish. Had
+she done right? But one more thought of
+the children and grown people who have not
+the Bible,&mdash;who know nothing of the golden
+city with its gates of pearl, and are nowise
+fit to enter by those pure entrances where
+"nothing that defileth" can go in,&mdash;and
+Nettie wished no more for a penny back that
+she had given to bring them there. She
+hugged herself in her cloak, and as she went
+quick along the darkening ways, the light
+from that city seemed to shine in her heart
+and make warmth through the cold. She
+was almost sorry to go to Mr. Jackson's shop;
+it had grown rather a disagreeable place to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span>
+her lately. It was half full of people, as
+usual at that hour.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you want?" said Mr. Jackson,
+rather curtly, when Nettie's turn came and
+she had told her errand. "What!" he exclaimed,
+"seven pounds of meal and a pound
+of butter, and two pounds of sugar! Well, you
+tell your father that I should like to have
+my bill settled; it's all drawn up, you see,
+and I don't like to open a new account till
+it's all square."</p>
+
+<p>He turned away immediately to another
+customer, and Nettie felt she had got her
+answer. She stood a moment, very disappointed,
+and a little mortified, and somewhat
+downhearted. What should they do
+for supper? and what a storm there would
+be when her father heard about all this and
+found nothing but bread and tea on the
+table. Slowly Nettie turned away, and slowly
+made the few steps from the door to the
+corner. She felt very blue indeed; coming
+out of the warm store the chill wind made
+her shiver. Just at the corner somebody
+stopped her.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span>
+"Nettie!" said the voice of the little
+French baker, "what ails you? you look
+not well."</p>
+
+<p>Nettie gave her a grateful smile, and said
+she was well.</p>
+
+<p>"You look not like it," said Mme. Auguste;
+"you look as if the wind might
+carry you off before you get home. Come
+to my house&mdash;I want to see you in the light."</p>
+
+<p>"I haven't time; I must go home to
+mother, Mrs. August."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I know! You will go home all the
+faster for coming this way first. You have
+not been to see me in these three or four
+weeks."</p>
+
+<p>She carried Nettie along with her; it was
+but a step, and Nettie did not feel capable
+of resisting anything. The little Frenchwoman
+put her into the shop before her,
+made her sit down, and lighted a candle.
+The shop was nice and warm and full of the
+savoury smell of fresh baking.</p>
+
+<p>"We have made our own bread lately,"
+said Nettie, in answer to the charge of not
+coming there.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span>
+"Do you make it good?" said Mme. Auguste.</p>
+
+<p>"It isn't like yours, Mrs. August," said
+Nettie, smiling.</p>
+
+<p>"If you will come and live with me next
+summer, I will teach you how to do some
+things; and you shall not look so blue neither.
+Have you had your supper?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, and I am just going home to get
+supper. I must go, Mrs. August."</p>
+
+<p>"You come in here," said the Frenchwoman;
+"you are my prisoner. I am all
+alone, and I want somebody for company.
+You take off your cloak, Nettie, and I shall
+give you something to keep the wind out.
+You do what I bid you!"</p>
+
+<p>Nettie felt too cold and weak to make any
+ado about complying, unless duty had forbade;
+and she thought there was time enough
+yet. She let her cloak drop, and took off
+her hood. The little back room to which
+Mme. Auguste had brought her was only a
+trifle bigger than the bit of a shop; but it
+was as cozy as it was little. A tiny stove
+warmed it, and kept warm, too, a tiny iron<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span>
+pot and tea-kettle which were steaming
+away. The bed was at one end, draped
+nicely with red curtains; there was a little
+looking-glass, and some prints in frames round
+the walls; there was Madame's little table
+covered with a purple cloth, and with her
+work and a small clock and various pretty
+things on it. Mme. Auguste had gone to a
+cupboard in the wall, and taken out a couple
+of plates and little bowls, which she set on a
+little round stand; and then lifting the cover
+of the pot on the stove, she ladled out a
+bowlful of what was in it, and gave it to
+Nettie with one of her own nice crisp rolls.</p>
+
+<p>"Eat that!" she said. "I shan't let you
+go home till you have swallowed that to
+keep the cold out. It makes me all freeze
+to look at you."</p>
+
+<p>So she filled her own bowl, and made good
+play with her spoon, while between spoonfuls
+she looked at Nettie; and the good little
+woman smiled in her heart to see how easy
+it was for Nettie to obey her. The savoury,
+simple, comforting broth she had set before
+her was the best thing to the child's delicate<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span>
+stomach that she had tasted for many a
+day.</p>
+
+<p>"Is it good?" said the Frenchwoman when
+Nettie's bowl was half empty.</p>
+
+<p>"It's so good!" said Nettie. "I didn't
+know I was so hungry."</p>
+
+<p>"Now you will not feel the cold so," said
+the Frenchwoman, "and you will go back
+quicker. Do you like my <em>riz-au-gras</em>?"</p>
+
+<p>"<em>What</em> is it, ma'am?" said Nettie.</p>
+
+<p>The Frenchwoman laughed, and made
+Nettie say it over till she could pronounce
+the words. "Now you like it," she said;
+"that is a French dish. Do you think Mrs.
+Mat'ieson would like it?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am sure she would!" said Nettie. "But
+I don't know how to make it."</p>
+
+<p>"You shall come here and I will teach
+it to you. And now you shall carry a little
+home to your mother and ask her if she will
+do the honour to a French dish to approve
+it. It do not cost anything. I cannot sell
+much bread the winters; I live on what cost
+me nothing."</p>
+
+<p>While saying this, Mme. Auguste had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span>
+filled a little pail with the <em>riz-au-gras</em>, and
+put a couple of her rolls along with it. "It
+must have the French bread," she said; and
+she gave it to Nettie, who looked quite
+cheered up, and very grateful.</p>
+
+<p>"You are a good little girl!" she said.
+"How keep you always your face looking so
+happy? There is always one little streak of
+sunshine here"&mdash;drawing her finger across
+above Nettie's eyebrows&mdash;"and another here,"&mdash;and
+her finger passed over the line of Nettie's
+lips.</p>
+
+<p>"That's because I <em>am</em> happy, Mrs. August."</p>
+
+<p>"<em>Always?</em>"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, always."</p>
+
+<p>"What makes you so happy always? you
+was just the same in the cold winter out
+there, as when you was eating my <em>riz-au-gras</em>.
+Now me, I am cross in the cold, and
+not happy."</p>
+
+<p>But the Frenchwoman saw a deeper light
+come into Nettie's eyes as she answered, "It
+is because I love the Lord Jesus, Mrs. August,
+and he makes me happy."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span>
+"<em>You?</em>" said Madame. "My child!&mdash;What
+do you say, Nettie? I think not I
+have heard you right."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Mrs. August, I am happy because
+I love the Lord Jesus. I know he loves me,
+and he will take me to be with him."</p>
+
+<p>"Not just yet," said the Frenchwoman,
+"I hope! Well, I wish I was so happy as
+you, Nettie. Good-bye!"</p>
+
+<p>Nettie ran home, more comforted by her
+good supper, and more thankful to the goodness
+of God in giving it, and happy in the
+feeling of his goodness than can be told.
+And very, very glad she was of that little
+tin pail in her hand she knew her mother
+needed. Mrs. Mathieson had time to eat
+the rice broth before her husband came
+in.</p>
+
+<p>"She said she would show me how to
+make it," said Nettie, "and it don't cost anything."</p>
+
+<p>"Why, it's just rice and&mdash;<em>what</em> is it? I
+don't see," said Mrs. Mathieson. "It isn't
+rice and milk."</p>
+
+<p>Nettie laughed at her mother. "Mrs.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span>
+August didn't tell. She called it reeso&mdash;&mdash;
+I forget what she called it!"</p>
+
+<p>"It's the best thing I ever saw," said Mrs.
+Mathieson. "There&mdash;put the pail away.
+Your father's coming."</p>
+
+<p>He was in a terrible humour, as they expected;
+and Nettie and her mother had a
+sad evening of it. And the same sort of
+thing lasted for several days. Mrs. Mathieson
+hoped that perhaps Mr. Lumber would
+take into his head to seek lodgings somewhere
+else; or at least that Mathieson would
+have been shamed into paying Jackson's
+bill; but neither thing happened. Mr.
+Lumber found his quarters too comfortable;
+and Mr. Mathieson spent too much of his
+earnings on drink to find the amount necessary
+to clear off the scores at the grocer's
+shop.</p>
+
+<p>From that time, as they could run up no
+new account, the family were obliged to live
+on what they could immediately pay for.
+That was seldom a sufficient supply; and so,
+in dread of the storms that came whenever
+their wants touched Mr. Mathieson's own<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span>
+comfort, Nettie and her mother denied themselves
+constantly what they very much needed.
+The old can sometimes bear this better than
+the young. Nettie grew more delicate, more
+thin, and more feeble, every day. It troubled
+her mother sadly. Mr. Mathieson could not
+be made to see it. Indeed he was little at
+home except when he was eating.</p>
+
+
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V.</h2>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span></p>
+<h3>THE NEW BLANKET.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Nettie had been in Barry's room one evening,
+putting it to rights; through the busy day
+it had somehow been neglected. Mrs. Mathieson's
+heart was so heavy that her work
+dragged; and when Nettie came out and
+sat down to her Sunday-school lesson, her
+mother kept watching her for a long time
+with a dull, listless face, quite still and idle.
+The child's face was busy over her Bible, and
+Mrs. Mathieson did not disturb her, till
+Nettie lifted her head to glance at the clock.
+Then the bitterness of her mother's heart
+broke out.</p>
+
+<p>"He's a ruined man!" she exclaimed, in
+her despair. "He's a ruined man! he's
+taking to drinking more and more. It's all
+over with him&mdash;and with us."</p>
+
+<p>"No, mother," said Nettie, gently,&mdash;"I
+hope not. There's better times coming,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span>
+mother. God <em>never</em> forsakes those that
+trust in him. He has promised to hear
+prayer; and I have prayed to him, and I
+feel sure he will save us."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Mathieson was weeping bitterly.</p>
+
+<p>"So don't you cry, mother. Trust!
+'Only believe'&mdash;don't you remember Jesus
+said that? Just believe him, mother. I do."</p>
+
+<p>And proving how true she spoke&mdash;how
+steadfast and firm was the faith she professed,
+with that, as Nettie got up to put
+away her books, her lips burst forth into
+song; and never more clear nor more sweet
+than she sung then, sounded the wild sweet
+notes that belong to the words&mdash;favourites
+with her. There was no doubt in her voice
+at all.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Great spoils I shall win, from death, hell, and sin,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1a">'Midst outward afflictions shall feel Christ within;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1a">And when I'm to die, Receive me, I'll cry;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1a">For Jesus hath loved me, I cannot tell why."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Mrs. Mathieson sobbed at first; but there
+came a great quietness over her; and as the
+clear beautiful strain came to an end, she
+rose up, threw her apron over her face, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span>
+knelt quietly down by the side of her bed;
+putting her face in her hands. Nettie stood
+and looked at her; then turned and went up
+the stair to her own praying-place; feeling in
+her heart as if instead of two weary feet she
+had had "wings as angels," to mount up
+literally. She knew that part of her prayer
+was getting its answer. She knew by the
+manner of her mother, that it was in no
+bitterness and despair but in the humbleness
+of a bowed heart that she had knelt down;
+and Nettie's slow little feet kept company
+with a most bounding spirit. She went to
+bed and covered herself up, not to sleep, but
+because it was too cold to be in the garret
+a moment uncovered; and lay there broad
+awake, "making melody in her heart to the
+Lord."</p>
+
+<p>It was very cold up in Nettie's garret now;
+the winter had moved on into the latter part
+of December, and the frosts were very keen;
+and the winter winds seem to come in at one
+end of the attic and to just sweep through to
+the other, bringing all except the snow with
+them. Even the snow often drifted in through<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span>
+the cracks of the rough wainscot board, or
+under the shutter, and lay in little white
+streaks or heaps on the floor, and never
+melted. To-night there was no wind, and
+Nettie had left her shutter open that she
+might see the stars as she lay in bed. It did
+not make much difference in the feeling of
+the place, for it was about as cold inside as
+out; and the stars were great friends of
+Nettie. To-night she lay and watched them,
+blinking down at her through her garret
+window with their quiet eyes; they were
+always silent witnesses to her of the beauty
+and purity of heaven, and reminders too of
+that eye that never sleeps and that hand that
+planted and upholds all. How bright they
+looked down to-night! It was very cold,
+and lying awake made Nettie colder; she
+shivered sometimes under all her coverings;
+still she lay looking at the stars in that square
+patch of sky that her shutter opening gave
+her to see, and thinking of the golden city.
+"They shall hunger no more, neither thirst
+any more; neither shall the sun light on
+them, nor any heat. For the lamb which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span>
+is in the midst of the throne shall feed them,
+and shall lead them unto living fountains of
+waters: and God shall wipe away all tears
+from their eyes." "There shall be no more
+curse; but the throne of God and of the
+Lamb shall be in it, and his servants shall
+serve him."</p>
+
+<p>"His servants shall serve him"&mdash;thought
+Nettie; "and mother will be there,&mdash;and
+father will be there, and Barry,&mdash;and I shall
+be there! and then I shall be happy. And
+I am happy now. 'Blessed be the Lord,
+which hath not turned away my prayer, nor
+his mercy from me!'"&mdash;And if that verse
+went through Nettie's head once, it did fifty
+times. So did this one, which the quiet
+stars seemed to repeat and whisper to her,
+"The Lord redeemeth the soul of his servants,
+and none of them that trust in him shall be
+desolate." And though now and then a
+shiver passed over Nettie's shoulders, with
+the cold, she was ready to sing for very
+gladness and fulness of heart.</p>
+
+<p>But lying awake and shivering did not
+do Nettie's little body any good; she looked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span>
+so very white the next day, that it caught
+even Mr. Mathieson's attention. He reached
+out his arm and drew Nettie toward him, as
+she was passing between the cupboard and
+the table. Then he looked at her, but he
+did not say how she looked.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know day after to-morrow is
+Christmas day?" said he.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I know. It's the day when Christ
+was born," said Nettie.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I don't know anything about that,"
+said her father; "but what I mean is, that a
+week after is New Year. What would you
+like me to give you, Nettie,&mdash;hey?"</p>
+
+<p>Nettie stood still for a moment, then her
+eyes lighted up.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you give it to me, father, if I tell
+you?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know. If it is not extravagant,
+perhaps I will."</p>
+
+<p>"It will not cost much," said Nettie, earnestly.
+"Will you give me what I choose,
+father, if it does not cost too much?"</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose I will. What is it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Father, you wont be displeased?"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span>
+"Not I!" said Mr. Mathieson, drawing
+Nettie's little form tighter in his grasp; he
+thought he had never felt it so slight and
+thin before.</p>
+
+<p>"Father, I am going to ask you a great
+thing!&mdash;to go to church with me New Year's
+day."</p>
+
+<p>"To church!" said her father, frowning;
+but he remembered his promise, and he felt
+Nettie in his arms yet. "What on earth
+good will that do you?"</p>
+
+<p>"A great deal of good. It would please
+me so much, father."</p>
+
+<p>"What do you want me to go to church
+for?" said Mr. Mathieson, not sure yet what
+humour he was going to be in.</p>
+
+<p>"To thank God, father, that there was a
+Christmas; when Jesus came, that we might
+have a New Year."</p>
+
+<p>"What? what?" said Mr. Mathieson.
+"What are you talking about?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because, father," said Nettie, trembling,
+and seizing her chance, "since Jesus loved
+us and came and died for us, we all may
+have a New Year of glory. I shall, father;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span>
+and I want you too. Oh do, father!" and
+Nettie burst into tears. Mr. Mathieson held
+her fast, and his face showed a succession of
+changes for a minute or so. But she presently
+raised her head from his shoulder,
+where it had sunk, and kissed him, and
+said&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"May I have what I want, father?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes&mdash;go along," said Mr. Mathieson.
+"I should like to know how to refuse you,
+though. But, Nettie, don't you want me to
+give you anything else?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing else!" she told him, with her
+face all shining with joy. Mr. Mathieson
+looked at her and seemed very thoughtful
+all supper time.</p>
+
+<p>"Can't you strengthen that child up a
+bit?" he said to his wife afterwards. "She
+does too much."</p>
+
+<p>"She does as little as I can help," said
+Mrs. Mathieson; "but she is always at something.
+I am afraid her room is too cold o'
+nights. She aint fit to bear it. It's bitter
+up there."</p>
+
+<p>"Give her another blanket or quilt, then,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span>
+said her husband. "I should think you
+would see to that. Does she say she is
+cold?"</p>
+
+<p>"No,&mdash;never except sometimes when I see
+her looking blue, and ask her."</p>
+
+<p>"And what does she say then?"</p>
+
+<p>"She says sometimes she is a little cold."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, do put something more over her,
+and have no more of it!" said her husband,
+violently. "Sit still and let the child be
+cold, when another covering would make it
+all right!" And he ended with swearing at
+her.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Mathieson did not dare to tell him
+that Nettie's food was not of a sufficiently
+nourishing and relishing kind; she knew
+what the answer to that would be; and she
+feared that a word more about Nettie's
+sleeping-room would be thought an attack
+upon Mr. Lumber's being in the house. So
+she was silent.</p>
+
+<p>But there came home something for Nettie
+in the course of the Christmas week, which
+comforted her a little, and perhaps quieted
+Mr. Mathieson too. He brought with him,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span>
+on coming home to supper one evening, a
+great thick roll of a bundle, and put it in
+Nettie's arms, telling her that was for her
+New Year.</p>
+
+<p>"For me!" said Nettie, the colour starting
+a little into her cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, for you. Open it, and see."</p>
+
+<p>So Nettie did, with some trouble, and
+there tumbled out upon the floor a great
+heavy warm blanket, new from the shop.
+Mr. Mathieson thought the pink in her
+cheeks was the prettiest thing he had seen
+in a long while.</p>
+
+<p>"Is this for <em>me</em>, father?"</p>
+
+<p>"I mean it to be so. See if it will go on
+that bed of yours and keep you warm."</p>
+
+<p>Nettie gave her father some very hearty
+thanks, which he took in a silent, pleased
+way; and then she hastened off with her
+blanket upstairs. How thick and warm it
+was! and how nicely it would keep her comfortable
+when she knelt, all wrapped up in it,
+on that cold floor. For a little while it
+would; not even a warm blanket would keep
+her from the cold more than a little while at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span>
+a time up there. But Nettie tried its powers
+the first thing she did.</p>
+
+<p>Did Mr. Mathieson mean the blanket to
+take the place of his promise? Nettie
+thought of that, but like a wise child she
+said nothing at all till the Sunday morning
+came. Then, before she set off for Sunday-school,
+she came to her father's elbow.</p>
+
+<p>"Father, I'll be home a quarter after ten;
+will you be ready then?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ready for what?" said Mr. Mathieson.</p>
+
+<p>"For my New Year's," said Nettie. "You
+know you promised I should go to church
+with you."</p>
+
+<p>"Did I? And aint you going to take the
+blanket for your New Year's, and let me off,
+Nettie?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, father, to be sure not. I'll be home
+at a quarter past; please don't forget." And
+Nettie went off to school very thankful and
+happy, for her father's tone was not unkind.
+How glad she was New Year's day had come
+on Sunday.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Mathieson was as good as his word.
+He was ready at the time, and they walked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span>
+to the church together. That was a great
+day to Nettie. Her father and mother going
+to church in company with her and with each
+other. But nobody that saw her sober sweet
+little face would have guessed how very full
+her heart was of prayer, even as they walked
+along the street among the rest of the people.
+And when they got to church, it seemed as
+if every word of the prayers and of the reading
+and of the hymns and of the sermon,
+struck on all Nettie's nerves of hearing and
+feeling. Would her father understand any
+of those sweet words? would he feel them?
+would they reach him? Nettie little thought
+that what he felt most, what <em>did</em> reach him,
+though he did not thoroughly understand it,
+was the look of her own face; though she
+never but once dared turn it toward him.
+There was a little colour in it more than
+usual; her eye was deep in its earnestness;
+and the grave set of her little mouth was
+broken up now and then in a way that Mr.
+Mathieson wanted to watch better than the
+straight sides of her sun-bonnet would let him.
+Once he thought he saw something more.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span>
+He walked home very soberly, and was a
+good deal on the silent order during the rest
+of the day. He did not go to church in
+the afternoon. But in the evening, as
+her mother was busy in and out getting
+supper ready, and Mr. Lumber had not
+come in, Mr. Mathieson called Nettie to his
+side.</p>
+
+<p>"What was you crying for in church this
+forenoon?" he said, low.</p>
+
+<p>"Crying!" said Nettie, surprised. "Was
+I crying?"</p>
+
+<p>"If it wasn't tears I saw dropping from
+under your hands on to the floor, it must
+have been some drops of rain that had got
+there, and I don't see how they could very
+well. There warn't no rain outside. What
+was it for, hey?"</p>
+
+<p>There came a great flush all over Nettie's
+face, and she did not at once speak.</p>
+
+<p>"Hey?&mdash;what was it for?"&mdash;repeated Mr.
+Mathieson.</p>
+
+<p>The flush passed away. Nettie spoke very
+low and with lips all of a quiver. "I remember.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span>
+I was thinking, father, how 'all
+things are ready'&mdash;and I couldn't help
+wishing that you were ready too."</p>
+
+<p>"Ready for what?" said Mr. Mathieson,
+somewhat roughly. "All things ready for
+what?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ready for you," said Nettie. "Jesus is
+ready to love you, and calls you&mdash;and the
+angels are ready to rejoice for you&mdash;and I&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Go on! What of you?"</p>
+
+<p>Nettie lifted her eyes to him. "I am
+ready to rejoice too, father." But the time
+of rejoicing was not yet. Nettie burst into
+tears.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Mathieson was not angry, yet he flung
+away from her with a rude "Pshaw!" and
+that was all the answer she got. But the
+truth was, that there was something in
+Nettie's look, of tenderness, and purity, and
+trembling hope, that her father's heart could
+not bear to meet; and what is more, that he
+was never able to forget.</p>
+
+<p>Nettie went about her evening business
+helping her mother, and keeping back the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span>
+tears which were very near again; and Mr.
+Mathieson began to talk with Mr. Lumber,
+and everything was to all appearance just as
+it had been hitherto. And so it went on
+after that.</p>
+
+
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI.</h2>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span></p>
+<h3>THE HOUSE-RAISING.<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a></h3>
+
+
+<p>It grew colder and colder in Nettie's garret&mdash;or
+else she grew thinner and felt it more.
+She certainly thought it was colder. The
+snow came, and piled a thick covering on the
+roof and stopped up some of the chinks in the
+clapboarding with its white caulking; and
+that made the place a little better; then the
+winds from off the snow-covered country were
+keen and bitter.</p>
+
+<p>Nettie's whole day was so busy that she
+had little time to think, except when she
+went upstairs at night; covered up there
+under her blankets and quilts, and looking
+up at the stars, she used to feel sadly that
+things were in a very bad way. Her father
+was out constantly o' nights, and they knew<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span>
+too surely where he spent them. He was
+not a confirmed drunkard yet; but how long
+would it take, at this rate? And that man
+Lumber leading him on, with a thicker head
+himself, and Barry following after! No
+seeming thought nor care for his wife and
+daughter and their comfort; it was with
+great difficulty they could get from him
+enough money for their daily needs; and to
+make that do, Nettie and her mother pinched
+and starved themselves. Often and often
+Nettie went to bed with an empty stomach,
+because she was not hearty enough to eat
+porridge or pork, and the men had not left
+enough of other viands for herself and her
+mother. And neither of them would pretend
+to want that little there was, for fear the
+other wanted it more.</p>
+
+<p>Her mother was patient and quiet now;
+not despairing, as a few months ago; and
+that was such joy to Nettie that she felt often
+much more like giving thanks than complaining.
+Yet she saw her mother toiling and
+insufficiently cared for, and she went to bed
+feeling very poor and thin herself; then<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span>
+Nettie used to look at the stars and remember
+the Lord's promises and the golden
+city, till at last she would go to sleep upon
+her pillow feeling the very richest little child
+in all the country. "They shall not be
+ashamed that wait for me"&mdash;was one word
+which was very often the last in her thoughts.
+Nettie had no comfort from her father in all
+the time between New Year and spring.
+Except one word.</p>
+
+<p>One morning she went to Barry secretly in
+his room, and asked him to bring the pail of
+water from the spring for her. Barry had no
+mind to the job.</p>
+
+<p>"Why can't mother do it?" he said, "if
+you can't?"</p>
+
+<p>"Mother is busy and hasn't a minute. I
+always do it for her."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, why can't you go on doing it?
+you're accustomed to it, you see, and I don't
+like going out so early," said Barry, stretching
+himself.</p>
+
+<p>"I would, and I wouldn't ask you; only,
+Barry, somehow I don't think I'm quite
+strong lately and I can hardly bring the pail,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span>
+it's so heavy to me. I have to stop and rest
+ever so many times before I can get to the
+house with it."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, if you stop and rest, I suppose it
+wont hurt you," said Barry. "<em>I</em> should want
+to stop and rest, too, myself."</p>
+
+<p>His little sister was turning away, giving
+it up; when she was met by her father who
+stepped in from the entry. He looked red
+with anger.</p>
+
+<p>"You take the pail and go get the water!"
+said he to his son; "and you hear me! don't
+you let Nettie bring in another pailful when
+you're at home, or I'll turn you out of the
+house. You lazy scoundrel! You don't deserve
+the bread you eat. Would you let her
+work for you, when you are as strong as
+sixty?"</p>
+
+<p>Barry's grumbled words in answer were so
+very unsatisfactory, that Mr. Mathieson in a
+rage advanced toward him with uplifted fist;
+but Nettie sprang in between and very nearly
+caught the blow that was meant for her
+brother.</p>
+
+<p>"Please, father, don't!" she cried; "please,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span>
+father, don't be angry. Barry didn't think&mdash;he
+didn't"&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Why didn't he?" said Mr. Mathieson.
+"Great lazy rascal! He wants to be flogged."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh don't!" said Nettie,&mdash;"he didn't
+know why I asked him, or he wouldn't have
+refused me."</p>
+
+<p>"Why did you, then?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because it made my back ache so to
+bring it, I couldn't help asking him."</p>
+
+<p>"Did you ever ask him before?"</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind, please, father!" said Nettie,
+sweetly. "Just don't think about me, and don't
+be angry with Barry. It's no matter now."</p>
+
+<p>"Who does think about you? Your
+mother don't, or she would have seen to this
+before."</p>
+
+<p>"Mother didn't know my back ached.
+Father, you know she hasn't a minute, she
+is so busy getting breakfast in time; and
+she didn't know I wasn't strong enough.
+Father, don't tell her, please, I asked Barry.
+It would worry her so. Please don't, father."</p>
+
+<p>"<em>You</em> think of folks, anyhow. You're a
+regular peacemaker!" exclaimed Mr. Mathieson<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span>
+as he turned away and left her. Nettie
+stood still, the flush paling on her cheek, her
+hand pressed to her side.</p>
+
+<p>"Am I that?" she thought. "Shall I be
+that? Oh Lord, my Saviour, my dear
+Redeemer, send thy peace here!"&mdash;She was
+still in the same place and position when
+Barry came in again.</p>
+
+<p>"It's wretched work!" he exclaimed,
+under his breath, for his father was in the
+next room. "It's as slippery as the plague,
+going down that path to the water&mdash;it's no
+use to have legs, for you can't hold up. I'm
+all froze stiff with the water I've spilled
+on me!"</p>
+
+<p>"I know it's very slippery," said Nettie.</p>
+
+<p>"And then you can't get at the water
+when you're there, without stepping into it&mdash;it's
+filled chuck full of snow and ice all over
+the edge. It's the most wretched work!"</p>
+
+<p>"I know it, Barry," said Nettie. "I am
+sorry you have to do it."</p>
+
+<p>"What did you make me do it for, then?"
+said he, angrily. "You got it your own way
+this time, but never mind,&mdash;I'll be up with
+you for it."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span>
+"Barry," said his sister, "please do it just
+a little while for me, till I get stronger, and
+don't mind; and as soon as ever I can I'll
+do it again. But you don't know how it
+made me ache all through, bringing the pail
+up that path."</p>
+
+<p>"Stuff!" said Barry. And from that time,
+though he did not fail to bring the water in
+the morning, yet Nettie saw he owed her a
+grudge for it all the day afterward. He
+was almost always away with his father, and
+she had little chance to win him to better
+feeling.</p>
+
+<p>So the winter slowly passed and the spring
+came. Spring months came, at least; and
+now and then to be sure a sweet spring day,
+when all nature softened; the sun shone
+mildly, the birds sang, the air smelled sweet
+with the opening buds. Those days were
+lovely, and Nettie enjoyed them no one can
+tell how much. On her walk to school, it
+was so pleasant to be able to step slowly and
+not hasten to be out of the cold; and Nettie's
+feet did not feel ready for quick work now-a-days.
+It was so pleasant to hear the
+sparrows and other small birds, and to see<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span>
+them, with their cheery voices and sonsy
+little heads, busy and happy. And the soft
+air was very reviving too.</p>
+
+<p>Then at home the work was easier, a great
+deal; and in Nettie's garret the change was
+wonderful. There came hours when she
+could sit on the great chest under her window
+and look out, or kneel there and pray, without
+danger of catching her death of cold; and
+instead of that, the balmy perfumed spring
+breeze coming into her window, and the
+trees budding, and the grass on the fields
+and hills beginning to look green, and the
+sunlight soft and vapoury. Such an hour&mdash;or
+quarter of an hour&mdash;to Nettie was worth
+a great deal. Her weary little frame seemed
+to rest in it, and her mind rested too. For
+those days were full not only of the goodness
+of God, but of the promise of his goodness.
+Nettie read it, and thanked him. Yet things
+in the household were no better.</p>
+
+<p>One evening Nettie and her mother were
+sitting alone together. They were usually
+alone in the evenings, though not usually
+sitting down quietly with no work on hand.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span>
+Nettie had her Sunday-school lesson, and
+was busy with that, on one side of the fire.
+Mrs. Mathieson on the other side sat and
+watched her. After a while Nettie looked
+up and saw her mother's gaze, no longer on
+her, fixed mournfully on the fire and looking
+through that at something else. Nettie read
+the look, and answered it after her own
+fashion. She closed her book and sang, to a
+very, very sweet, plaintive air,</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"I heard the voice of Jesus say,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Come unto me and rest:<br /></span>
+<span class="i1a">Lay down, thou weary one, lay down<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Thy head upon my breast.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1a">I came to Jesus as I was,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Weary, and worn, and sad,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1a">I found in him a resting-place,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And he has made me glad.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"I heard the voice of Jesus say,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I am this dark world's light;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1a">Look unto me&mdash;thy morn shall rise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And all thy day be bright.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1a">I looked to Jesus, and I found<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In him my star, my sun;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1a">And in that light of life I'll walk<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Till travelling days are done."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>She sang two verses, clear, glad, and sweet,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span>
+as Nettie always sang; then she paused and
+looked at her mother.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you keep up hope yet, Nettie?"
+said Mrs. Mathieson, sadly.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, mother," Nettie said, quietly.</p>
+
+<p>"Mine gets beat out sometimes," said Mrs.
+Mathieson, drooping her head for an instant
+on her hands. "Your father's out every
+night now; and you know where he goes;
+and he cares less and less about anything
+else in the world but Jackson's store, and
+what he gets there, and the company he finds
+there. And he don't want much of being a
+ruined man."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, mother. But the Bible says we
+must wait on the Lord."</p>
+
+<p>"Wait! yes, and I've waited; and I see
+you growing as thin as a shadow and
+as weak as a mouse; and your father
+don't see it; and he's let you sleep in that
+cold place up there all winter just to accommodate
+that Lumber!&mdash;I am sure he is well
+named."</p>
+
+<p>"O mother, my garret is nice now,&mdash;on
+the warm days. You can't think how pretty<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span>
+it is out of my window&mdash;prettier than any
+window in the house."</p>
+
+<p>"Outside, I dare say. It isn't a place
+fit for a cat to sleep on!"</p>
+
+<p>"Mother, it's a good place to me. I don't
+want a better place. I don't think anybody
+else has a place that seems so good to me;
+for mother, Jesus is always there."</p>
+
+<p>"I expect there'll be nothing else but
+heaven good enough for you after it!" said
+Mrs. Mathieson, with a sort of half sob. "I
+see you wasting away before my very eyes."</p>
+
+<p>"Mother," said Nettie, cheerfully, "how
+can you talk so? I feel well&mdash;except now
+and then."</p>
+
+<p>"If your father could only be made to see
+it!&mdash;but he can't see anything, nor hear
+anything. There's that house-raising to-morrow,
+Nettie&mdash;it's been on my mind this
+fortnight past, and it kills me."</p>
+
+<p>"Why, mother?"</p>
+
+<p>"I know how it will be," said Mrs. Mathieson;
+"they'll have a grand set-to after they
+get it up; and your father'll be in the first of
+it; and I somehow feel as if it would be the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span>
+finishing of him. I wish almost he'd get
+sick&mdash;or anything, to keep him away. They
+make such a time after a house-raising."</p>
+
+<p>"O mother, don't wish that," said Nettie;
+but she began to think how it would be
+possible to withdraw her father from the
+frolic with which the day's business would be
+ended. Mr. Mathieson was a carpenter, and
+a fine workman; and always had plenty of
+work and was much looked up to among his
+fellows.</p>
+
+<p>Nettie began to think whether <em>she</em> could
+make any effort to keep her father from the
+dangers into which he was so fond of plunging;
+hitherto she had done nothing but pray
+for him; could she do anything more, with
+any chance of good coming of it? She thought
+and thought; and resolved that she must try.
+It did not look hopeful; there was little she
+could urge to lure Mr. Mathieson from his
+drinking companions; nothing, except her
+own timid affection, and the one other thing
+it was possible to offer him,&mdash;a good supper.
+How to get that was not so easy; but she
+consulted with her mother.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span>
+Mrs. Mathieson said she used in her younger
+days to know how to make waffles,<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> and Mr.
+Mathieson used to think they were the best
+things that ever were made; now if Mrs.
+Moss, a neighbour, would lend her waffle-iron,
+and she could get a few eggs,&mdash;she
+believed she could manage it still. "But we
+haven't the eggs, child," she said; "and I
+don't believe any power under heaven can
+get him to come away from that raising
+frolic."</p>
+
+<p>Nor did Nettie. It was to no power
+<em>under</em> heaven that she trusted. But she
+must use her means. She easily got the
+iron from Mrs. Moss. Then she borrowed
+the eggs from Mme. Auguste, who in Lent
+time always had them; then she watched
+with grave eyes and many a heart prayer
+the while, the mixing and making of the
+waffles.</p>
+
+<p>"How do you manage the iron, mother?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why it is made hot," said Mrs. Mathieson,
+"very hot, and buttered; and then<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span>
+when the batter is light you pour it in, and
+clap it together, and put it in the stove."</p>
+
+<p>"But how can you pour it in, mother? I
+don't see how you can fill the iron."</p>
+
+<p>"Why, you can't, child; you fill one half,
+and shut it together: and when it bakes
+it rises up and fills the other half. You'll
+see."</p>
+
+<p>The first thing Nettie asked when she
+came home from school in the afternoon
+was, if the waffles were light? She never
+saw any look better, Mrs. Mathieson said;
+"but I forgot, child, we ought to have cinnamon
+and white sugar to eat on them;&mdash;it
+was so that your father used to admire
+them; they wont be waffles without sugar
+and cinnamon, I'm afraid he'll think;&mdash;but
+I don't believe you'll get him home to think
+anything about them."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Mathieson ended with a sigh. Nettie
+said nothing; she went round the room,
+putting it in particularly nice order; then
+set the table. When all that was right, she
+went up to her garret, and knelt down and
+prayed that God would take care of her and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span>
+bless her errand. She put the whole matter
+in the Lord's hands; then she dressed herself
+in her hood and cloak and went down to her
+mother. Mr. Mathieson had not come home
+to dinner, being busy with the house-raising;
+so they had had no opportunity to invite
+him, and Nettie was now on her way to
+do it.</p>
+
+<p>"It's turned a bad afternoon; I'm afraid
+it aint fit for you to go, Nettie."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't mind," said Nettie. "May be I'll
+get some sugar and cinnamon, mother, before
+I come back."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you know where the raising is?
+it's out on the Shallonway road, on beyond
+Mrs. August's, a good bit."</p>
+
+<p>Nettie nodded, and went out; and as the
+door closed on her grave, sweet little face,
+Mrs. Mathieson felt a great strain on her
+heart. She would have been glad to relieve
+herself by tears, but it was a dry pain that
+would not be relieved so. She went to the
+window, and looked out at the weather.</p>
+
+
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII.</h2>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span></p>
+<h3>THE WAFFLES.</h3>
+
+
+<p>The early part of the day had been brilliant
+and beautiful; then, March-like, it had
+changed about, gathered up a whole sky-full
+of clouds, and turned at last to snowing.
+The large feathery flakes were falling now,
+fast; melting as fast as they fell; making
+everything wet and chill, in the air and under
+the foot. Nettie had no overshoes; she was
+accustomed to get her feet wet very often, so
+that was nothing new. She hugged herself
+in her brown cloak, on which the beautiful
+snowflakes rested white a moment and then
+melted away, gradually wetting the covering
+of her arms and shoulders in a way that
+would reach through by and by. Nettie
+thought little of it. What was she thinking
+of? She was comforting herself with the
+thought of that strong and blessed Friend
+who has promised to be always with his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span>
+servants; and remembering his promise&mdash;"they
+shall not be ashamed that wait for
+me." What did the snow and the wet matter
+to Nettie? Yet she looked too much like a
+snow-flake herself when she reached Mr.
+Jackson's store and went in. The white
+frosting had lodged all round her old black
+silk hood and even edged the shoulders of
+her brown cloak; and the white little face
+within looked just as pure.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Jackson looked at her with more than
+usual attention; and when Nettie asked him
+if he would let her have a shilling's worth of
+fine white sugar and cinnamon, and trust her
+till the next week for the money, he made
+not the slightest difficulty; but measured or
+weighed it out for her directly, and even said
+he would trust her for more than that. So
+Nettie thanked him, and went on to the less
+easy part of her errand. Her heart began
+to beat a little bit now.</p>
+
+<p>The feathery snowflakes fell thicker and
+made everything wetter than ever; it was
+very raw and chill, and few people were
+abroad. Nettie went on, past the little bakewoman's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span>
+house, and past all the thickly built
+part of the village. Then came houses more
+scattered; large handsome houses with beautiful
+gardens and grounds and handsome
+garden palings along the roadside. Past one
+or two of these, and then there was a space
+of wild ground; and here Mr. Jackson was
+putting up a new house for himself, and
+meant to have a fine place. The wild bushes
+grew in a thick hedge along by the fence,
+but over the tops of them Nettie could see
+the new timbers of the frame that the carpenters
+had been raising that day. She went
+on till she came to an opening in the hedge
+and fence as well, and then the new building
+was close before her. The men were at work
+yet, finishing their day's business; the sound
+of hammering rung sharp on all sides of the
+frame; some were up on ladders, some were
+below. Nettie walked slowly up and then
+round the place, searching for her father. At
+last she found him. He and Barry, who was
+learning his father's trade, were on the ground
+at one side of the frame, busy as bees.
+Talking was going on roundly too, as well as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span>
+hammering, and Nettie drew near and stood
+a few minutes without any one noticing her.
+She was not in a hurry to interrupt the work
+nor to tell her errand; she waited.</p>
+
+<p>Barry saw her first, but ungraciously would
+not speak to her nor for her. If she was
+there for anything, he said to himself, it was
+for some spoil-sport; and one pail of water
+a day was enough for him. Mr. Mathieson
+was looking the other way.</p>
+
+<p>"I say, Mathieson," called one of the men
+from the inside of the frame, "I s'pose 'taint
+worth carrying any of this stuff&mdash;Jackson'll
+have enough without it?" The words were
+explained to Nettie's horror by a jug in the
+man's hands, which he lifted to his lips.</p>
+
+<p>"Jackson will do something handsome in
+that way to-night," said Nettie's father; "or
+he'll not do as he's done by, such a confounded
+wet evening. But I've stood to my word,
+and I expect he'll stand to his'n."</p>
+
+<p>"He gave his word there was to be oysters,
+warn't it?" called another man from the top
+of the ladder.</p>
+
+<p>"Punch and oysters," said Mathieson, hammering<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span>
+away, "or I've raised the last frame
+I ever <em>will</em> raise, for him. I expect he'll
+stand it."</p>
+
+<p>"Oysters aint much count," said another
+speaker. "I'd rather have a slice of good
+sweet pork any day."</p>
+
+<p>"Father," said Nettie. She had come
+close up to him, but she trembled. What
+possible chance could she have?</p>
+
+<p>"Hollo!" said Mr. Mathieson, turning suddenly.
+"Nettie!&mdash;what's to pay, girl?"</p>
+
+<p>He spoke roughly, and Nettie saw that his
+face was red. She trembled all over, but she
+spoke as bravely as she could.</p>
+
+<p>"Father, I am come to invite you home to
+supper to-night. Mother and I have a particular
+reason to want to see you. Will you
+come?"</p>
+
+<p>"Come where?" said Mr. Mathieson, but
+half understanding her.</p>
+
+<p>"Come home to tea, father. I came to
+ask you. Mother has made something you
+like."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm busy, child. Go home. I'm going
+to supper at Jackson's. Go home." He<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span>
+turned to his hammering again. But Nettie
+stood still in the snow and waited.</p>
+
+<p>"Father&mdash;" she said, after a minute,
+coming yet closer and speaking more low.</p>
+
+<p>"What? Aint you gone?" exclaimed Mr.
+Mathieson.</p>
+
+<p>"Father," said Nettie, softly, "mother has
+made waffles for you,&mdash;and you used to
+like them so much, she says; and they are
+light and beautiful and just ready to bake.
+Wont you come and have them with us?
+Mother says they'll be very nice."</p>
+
+<p>"Why didn't she make 'em another time,"
+grumbled Barry,&mdash;"when we weren't going
+to punch and oysters? That's a better
+game!"</p>
+
+<p>If Mathieson had not been drinking he
+might have been touched by the sight of
+Nettie; so very white and delicate her little
+face looked, trembling and eager, within that
+border of her black hood on which the snow
+crystals lay, a very doubtful and unwholesome
+embroidery. She looked as if she was
+going to melt and disappear like one of them;
+and perhaps Mr. Mathieson did feel the effect<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span>
+of her presence, but he felt it only to be vexed
+and irritated; and Barry's suggestion fell into
+ready ground.</p>
+
+<p>"I tell you, go home!" he said, roughly.
+"What are you doing here? I tell you I'm
+<em>not</em> coming home&mdash;I'm engaged to supper to-night,
+and I'm not going to miss it for any
+fool's nonsense. Go home!"</p>
+
+<p>Nettie's lip trembled, but that was all the
+outward show of the agitation within. She
+would not have delayed to obey, if her father
+had been quite himself; in his present condition
+she thought perhaps the next word
+might undo the last; she could not go
+without another trial. She waited an instant
+and again said softly and pleadingly,
+"Father, I've been and got cinnamon and
+sugar for you,&mdash;all ready."</p>
+
+<p>"Cinnamon and sugar"&mdash;he cursed with a
+great oath; and turning gave Nettie a violent
+push from him, that was half a blow. "Go
+home!" he repeated&mdash;"go home! and mind
+your business; and don't take it upon you to
+mind mine."</p>
+
+<p>Nettie reeled, staggered, and coming<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span>
+blindly against one or two timbers that lay
+on the ground, she fell heavily over them.
+Nobody saw her. Mr. Mathieson had not
+looked after giving her the push, and Barry
+had gone over to help somebody who called
+him. Nettie felt dizzy and sick; but she
+picked herself up, and wet and downhearted
+took the road home again. She was sadly
+downhearted. Her little bit of a castle in the
+air had tumbled all to pieces; and what was
+more, it had broken down upon her. A hope,
+faint indeed, but a hope, had kept her up
+through all her exertions that day; she felt
+very feeble, now the hope was gone; and
+that her father should have laid a rough hand
+on her, hurt her sorely. It hurt her bitterly;
+he had never done so before; and the cause
+why he came to do it now, rather made it
+more sorrowful than less so to Nettie's mind.</p>
+
+<p>She could not help a few salt tears from
+falling; and for a moment Nettie's faith
+trembled. Feeling weak, and broken, and
+miserable, the thought came coldly across her
+mind, <em>would</em> the Lord not hear her, after all?
+It was but a moment of faith-trembling, but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span>
+it made her sick. There was more to do
+that; the push and fall over the timbers had
+jarred her more than she knew at the moment.
+Nettie walked slowly back upon her
+road till she neared the shop of Mme.
+Auguste; then she felt herself growing very
+ill, and just reached the Frenchwoman's door
+to faint away on her steps.</p>
+
+<p>She did not remain there two seconds.
+Mme. Auguste had seen her go by an hour
+before, and now sat at her window looking
+out to amuse herself, but with a special
+intent to see and waylay that pale child on
+her repassing the house. She saw the little
+black hood reappear, and started to open the
+door, just in time to see Nettie fall down at
+her threshold. As instantly two willing arms
+were put under her, and lifted up the child
+and bore her into the house. Then Madame
+took off her hood, touched her lips with
+brandy and her brow with cologne water, and
+chafed her hands. She had lain Nettie on
+the floor of the inner room and put a pillow
+under her head; the strength which had
+brought her so far having failed there, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span>
+proved unequal to lift her again and put her
+on the bed. Nettie presently came to, opened
+her eyes, and looked at her nurse.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, my Nettie," said the little woman,
+"what is this, my child? what is the matter
+with you?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know," said Nettie, scarce over
+her breath.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you feel better now, <em>mon enfant</em>?"</p>
+
+<p>Nettie did not, and did not speak. Mme.
+Auguste mixed a spoonful of brandy and
+water and made her take it. That revived
+her a little.</p>
+
+<p>"I must get up and go home," were the
+first words she said.</p>
+
+<p>"You will lie still there, till I get some
+person to lift you on the bed," said the
+Frenchwoman, decidedly. "I have not more
+strength than a fly. What ails you, Nettie?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know."</p>
+
+<p>"Take one spoonful more. What did you
+have for dinner to-day?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know. But I must go home!"
+said Nettie, trying to raise herself. "Mother
+will want me&mdash;she'll want me."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span>
+"You will lie still, like a good child," said
+her friend, gently putting her back on her
+pillow;&mdash;"and I will find some person to
+carry you home&mdash;or some person what will
+bring your mother here. I will go see if I
+can find some one now. You lie still,
+Nettie."</p>
+
+<p>Nettie lay still, feeling weak after that exertion
+of trying to raise herself. She was
+quite restored now, and her first thoughts
+were of grief, that she had for a moment, and
+under any discouragement, failed to trust fully
+the Lord's promises. She trusted them now.
+Let her father do what he would, let things
+look as dark as they might, Nettie felt sure
+that "the rewarder of them that diligently
+seek him" had a blessing in store for her.
+Bible words, sweet and long loved and rested
+on, came to her mind, and Nettie rested on
+them with perfect rest. "For he hath not
+despised nor abhorred the affliction of the
+afflicted; neither hath he hid his face from
+him; but when he cried unto him, <em>he heard</em>."
+"Our heart shall rejoice in him, <em>because we
+have trusted in his holy name</em>." Prayer<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span>
+for forgiveness, and a thanksgiving of great
+peace, filled Nettie's heart all the while the
+Frenchwoman was gone.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile Mme. Auguste had been looking
+into the street, and seeing nobody out in
+the wet snow, she rushed back to Nettie.
+Nettie was like herself now, only very pale.</p>
+
+<p>"I must have cut my lip somehow," she
+said; "there's blood on my handkerchief.
+How did I come in here?"</p>
+
+<p>"Blood!" said the Frenchwoman,&mdash;"where
+did you cut yourself, Nettie? Let me
+look!"</p>
+
+<p>Which she did, with a face so anxious and
+eager that Nettie smiled at her. Her own
+brow was as quiet and placid as ever it was.</p>
+
+<p>"How did I get in here, Mrs. August?"</p>
+
+<p>The Frenchwoman, however, did not answer
+her. Instead of which she went to her cupboard
+and got a cup and spoon, and then
+from a little saucepan on the stove dipped
+out some riz-au-gras again.</p>
+
+<p>"What did you have for dinner, Nettie?
+you did not tell me."</p>
+
+<p>"Not much&mdash;I wasn't hungry," said<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span>
+Nettie. "O, I must get up and go home to
+mother."</p>
+
+<p>"You shall eat something first," said her
+friend; and she raised Nettie's head upon
+another pillow, and began to feed her with
+the spoon. "It is good for you. You must
+take it. Where is your father? Don't talk,
+but tell me. I will do everything right."</p>
+
+<p>"He is at work on Mr. Jackson's new
+house."</p>
+
+<p>"Is he there to-day?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>Mme. Auguste gave her all the "broth"
+in the cup, then bade her keep still, and
+went to the shop window. It was time for
+the men to be quitting work, she knew; she
+watched for the carpenters to come. If they
+were not gone by already!&mdash;how should she
+know? Even as she thought this, a sound
+of rude steps and men's voices came from
+down the road; and the Frenchwoman
+went to her door and opened it. The
+men came along, a scattered group of four or
+five.</p>
+
+<p>"Is Mr. Mat'ieson there?" she said. Mme.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span>
+Auguste hardly knew him by sight. "Men,
+I say! is Mr. Mat'ieson there?"</p>
+
+<p>"George, that's you; you're wanted," said
+one of the group, looking back; and a fine-looking,
+tall man paused at Madame's
+threshold.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you Mr. Mat'ieson?" said the Frenchwoman.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, ma'am. That's my name."</p>
+
+<p>"Will you come in? I have something
+to speak to you. Your little daughter
+Nettie is very sick."</p>
+
+<p>"Sick!" exclaimed the man. "Nettie!&mdash;Where
+is she?"</p>
+
+<p>"She is here. Hush! you must not say
+nothing to her, but she is very sick. She is
+come fainting at my door, and I have got
+her in here; but she wants to go home, and
+I think you had better tell her she will not
+go home, but she will stay here with me to-night."</p>
+
+<p>"Where is she?" said Mr. Mathieson; and
+he stepped in with so little ceremony that
+the mistress of the house gave way before
+him. He looked round the shop.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span>
+"She is not here&mdash;you shall see her&mdash;but
+you must not tell her she is sick," said the
+Frenchwoman, anxiously.</p>
+
+<p>"Where is she?" repeated Mr. Mathieson,
+with a tone and look which made Mme.
+Auguste afraid he would burst the doors if
+she did not open them. She opened the
+inner door without further preparation, and
+Mr. Mathieson walked in. By the fading
+light he saw Nettie lying on the floor at his
+feet. He was thoroughly himself now; sobered
+in more ways than one. He stood
+still when he had got there, and spoke not a
+word.</p>
+
+<p>"Father," said Nettie, softly.</p>
+
+<p>He stooped down over her. "What do
+you want, Nettie?"</p>
+
+<p>"Can't I go home?"</p>
+
+<p>"She must better not go home to-night!"
+began Mme. Auguste, earnestly. "It is so
+wet and cold! She will stay here with me
+to-night, Mr. Mat'ieson. You will tell her
+that it is best."</p>
+
+<p>But Nettie said, "<em>Please</em> let me go home!
+mother will be so troubled." She spoke little,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span>
+for she felt weak; but her father saw her
+very eager in the request. He stooped and
+put his strong arms under her, and lifted her
+up.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you got anything you can put over
+her?" he said, looking round the room. "I'll
+fetch it back."</p>
+
+<p>Seeing that the matter was quite taken
+out of her hands, the kind little Frenchwoman
+was very quick in her arrangements.
+She put on Nettie's head a warm hood of
+her own; then round her and over her
+she wrapped a thick woollen counterpane,
+that to be sure would have let no snow
+through if the distance to be travelled had
+been twice as far. As she folded and arranged
+the thick stuff round Nettie's head, so as to
+shield even her face from the outer air, she
+said, half whispering&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"I would not tell nothing to mother about
+your lip; it is not much. I wish I could
+keep you. Now she is ready, Mr. Mat'ieson."</p>
+
+<p>And Mr. Mathieson stalked out of the
+house, and strode along the road with firm,
+swift steps, till, past Jackson's, and past the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span>
+turning, he came to his own door, and carried
+Nettie upstairs. He never said a word the
+whole way. Nettie was too muffled up, and
+too feeble to speak; so the first word was
+when he had come in and sat down in a
+chair, which he did with Nettie still in his
+arms. Mrs. Mathieson, standing white and
+silent, waited to see what was the matter;
+she had no power to ask a question. Her
+husband unfolded the counterpane that was
+wrapped round Nettie's head; and there she
+was, looking very like her usual self, only
+exceedingly pale. As soon as she caught
+sight of her mother's face, Nettie would have
+risen and stood up, but her father's arms
+held her fast. "What do you want, Nettie?"
+he asked. It was the first word.</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing, father," said Nettie, "only lay
+me on the bed, please; and then you and
+mother have supper."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Mathieson took her to the bed and
+laid her gently down, removing the snow-wet
+counterpane which was round her.</p>
+
+<p>"What is the matter?" faltered Mrs.
+Mathieson.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span>
+"Nothing much, mother," said Nettie,
+quietly; "only I was a little sick. Wont
+you bake the waffles and have supper?"</p>
+
+<p>"What will <em>you</em> have?" said her father.</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing&mdash;I've had something. I feel
+nicely now," said Nettie. "Mother, wont
+you have supper, and let me see you?"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Mathieson's strength had well-nigh
+deserted her; but Nettie's desire was urgent,
+and seeing that her husband had seated himself
+by the bedside, and seemed to have no
+idea of being anywhere but at home that
+evening, she at length gathered up her faculties
+to do what was the best thing to be
+done, and went about preparing the supper.
+Nettie's eyes watched her, and Mr. Mathieson
+when he thought himself safe watched <em>her</em>.
+He did not look like the same man, so
+changed and sobered was the expression of
+his face. Mrs. Mathieson was devoured by
+fear, even in observing this; but Nettie was
+exceedingly happy. She did not feel anything
+but weakness: and she lay on her
+pillow watching the waffles baked and
+sugared, and then watching them eaten,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span>
+wondering and rejoicing within herself at the
+way in which her father had been brought to
+eat his supper there at home after all. She
+was the only one that enjoyed anything,
+though her father and mother ate to please
+her. Mrs. Mathieson had asked an account
+of Nettie's illness, and got a very unsatisfactory
+one. She had been faint, her husband
+said; he had found her at Mrs.
+August's and brought her home; that was
+about all. After supper he came and sat by
+Nettie again; and said she was to sleep
+there, and he would go up and take Nettie's
+place in the attic. Nettie in vain said she
+was well enough to go upstairs; her father
+cut the question short, and bade Mrs.
+Mathieson go up and get anything Nettie
+wanted. When she had left the room, he
+stooped his head down to Nettie and said
+low&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"What was that about your lip?"</p>
+
+<p>Nettie started; she thought he would
+fancy it had been done, if done at all, when
+he gave her the push at the frame-house.
+But she did not, dare not, answer. She said<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span>
+it was only that she had found a little blood
+on her handkerchief, and supposed she might
+have cut her lip when she fell on Mrs. August's
+threshold, when she had fainted.</p>
+
+<p>"Show me your handkerchief," said her
+father. Nettie obeyed. He looked at it,
+and looked close at her lips, to find where
+they might have been wounded; and Nettie
+was sorry to see how much he felt, for he
+even looked pale himself as he turned away
+from her. But he was as gentle and kind as
+he could be; Nettie had never seen him so;
+and when he went off up to bed and Nettie
+was drawn into her mother's arms to go to
+sleep, she was very, very happy. But she did
+not tell her hopes or her joys to her mother;
+she only told her thanks to the Lord; and
+that she did till she fell asleep.</p>
+
+<p>The next morning Nettie was well enough
+to get up and dress herself. That was all
+she was suffered to do by father or mother.
+Mr. Mathieson sent Barry for water and
+wood, and himself looked after the fire while
+Mrs. Mathieson was busy; all the rest he did
+was to take Nettie in his arms and sit holding<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span>
+her till breakfast was ready. He did not
+talk, and he kept Barry quiet; he was like a
+different man. Nettie, feeling indeed very
+weak, could only sit with her head on her
+father's shoulder, and wonder, and think, and
+repeat quiet prayers in her heart. She was
+very pale yet, and it distressed Mr. Mathieson
+to see that she could not eat. So he laid
+her on the bed, when he was going to his
+work, and told her she was to stay there and
+be still, and he would bring her something
+good when he came home.</p>
+
+<p>The day was strangely long and quiet to
+Nettie. Instead of going to school and flying
+about at home doing all sorts of things, she
+lay on the bed and followed her mother with
+her eyes as she moved about the room at her
+work. The eyes often met Mrs. Mathieson's
+eyes; and once Nettie called her mother to
+her bedside.</p>
+
+<p>"Mother, what is the matter with you?"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Mathieson stood still, and had some
+trouble to speak. At last she told Nettie
+she was sorry to see her lying there and not
+able to be up and around.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span>
+"Mother," said Nettie, expressively,&mdash;"'There
+is rest for the weary.'"</p>
+
+<p>"O Nettie," said her mother, beginning to
+cry,&mdash;"you are all I have got!&mdash;my blessed
+one!"</p>
+
+<p>"Hush, mother," said Nettie; "<em>I</em> am not
+your blessed one,&mdash;you forget; and I am not
+all you have got. Where is Jesus, mother?
+O mother, 'rest in the Lord!'"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't deserve to," said Mrs. Mathieson,
+trying to stop her tears.</p>
+
+<p>"I feel very well," Nettie went on; "only
+weak, but I shall be well directly. And I
+am so happy, mother. Wont you go on and
+get dinner? and mother, just do that;&mdash;'rest
+in the Lord.'"</p>
+
+<p>Nettie was not able to talk much, and
+Mrs. Mathieson checked herself and went on
+with her work, as she begged. When her
+father came home at night he was as good
+as his word, and brought home some fresh
+oysters, that he thought would tempt Nettie's
+appetite; but it was much more to her that
+he stayed quietly at home and never made a
+move toward going out. Eating was not in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span>
+Nettie's line just now; the little kind Frenchwoman
+had been to see her in the course of
+the day and brought some delicious rolls and
+a jug of <em>riz-au-gras</em>, which was what seemed
+to suit Nettie's appetite best of all.</p>
+
+
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII.</h2>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span></p>
+<h3>THE GOLDEN CITY.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Several days went on; she did not feel
+sick, and she was a little stronger; but appetite
+and colour were wanting. Her father
+would not let her do anything; he would
+not let her go up to her garret to sleep,
+though Nettie pleaded for it, fearing he must
+be uncomfortable. He said it was fitter for
+him than for her, though he made faces
+about it. He always came home and stayed
+at home now, and especially attended to
+Nettie; his wages came home too, and he
+brought every day something to try to tempt
+her to eat; and he was quiet and grave and
+kind&mdash;not the same person.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Mathieson in the midst of all her
+distress about Nettie began to draw some
+free breaths. But her husband thought only
+of his child; unless, perhaps, of himself; and
+drew none. Regularly after supper he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span>
+would draw Nettie to his arms and sit with
+her head on his shoulder; silent generally,
+only he would sometimes ask her what
+she would like. The first time he put this
+inquiry when Mr. Lumber was out of the
+way, Nettie answered by asking him to read
+to her. Mr. Mathieson hesitated a little, not
+unkindly, and then read; a chapter in the
+Bible, of course, for Nettie wished to hear
+nothing else. And after that he often read
+to her; for Mr. Lumber kept up his old
+habits and preferred livelier company, and so
+was always out in the evenings.</p>
+
+<p>So several days passed; and when Saturday
+came, Mr. Mathieson lost half a day's work
+and took a long walk to a farm where the
+people kept pigeons; and brought home one
+for Nettie's supper. However, she could
+fancy but very little of it.</p>
+
+<p>"What shall I do for you?" said her
+father. "You go round like a shadow, and
+you don't eat much more. What shall I do
+that you would like?"</p>
+
+<p>This time there was nobody in the room.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span>
+Nettie lifted her head from his shoulder and
+met his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"If you would come to Jesus, father!"</p>
+
+<p>"What?" said Mr. Mathieson.&mdash;"I don't
+know anything about that, Nettie. I aint
+fit."</p>
+
+<p>"Jesus will take you anyhow, father, if
+you will come."</p>
+
+<p>"We'll talk about that some other time,"
+said Mr. Mathieson,&mdash;"when you get well."</p>
+
+<p>"But suppose I don't get well, father?"</p>
+
+<p>"Eh?&mdash;&mdash;" said Mr. Mathieson, startled.</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps I shan't get well," said Nettie,
+her quiet, grave face not changing in the
+least; "then I shall go to the golden city;
+and father, I shall be looking for you till you
+come."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Mathieson did not know how to
+answer her; he only groaned.</p>
+
+<p>"Father, will you come?" Nettie repeated,
+a little faint streak of colour in her cheeks
+showing the earnestness of the feeling at
+work. But her words had a mingled accent
+of tenderness and hope which was irresistible.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span>
+"Yes, Nettie&mdash;if you will show me how,"
+her father answered, in a lowered voice.
+And Nettie's eye gave one bright flash of
+joy. It was as if all her strength had gone
+out at that flash, and she was obliged to lean
+back on her father's shoulder and wait; joy
+seemed to have taken away her breath. He
+waited too, without knowing why she did.</p>
+
+<p>"Father, the only thing to do is to come
+to Jesus."</p>
+
+<p>"What does that mean, Nettie? You
+know I don't know."</p>
+
+<p>"It means, father, that Jesus is holding
+out his hand with a promise to you. Now
+if you will take the promise,&mdash;that is all."</p>
+
+<p>"What is the promise, Nettie?"</p>
+
+<p>Nettie waited, gathered breath, for the
+talk made her heart beat; and then said,
+"'This is the promise that he hath promised
+us, even eternal life.'"</p>
+
+<p>"How can a sinful man take such a promise?"
+said Mr. Mathieson, with suppressed
+feeling. "That is for people like you, Nettie,
+not me."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Jesus has bought it!" cried Nettie;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span>
+"it's free. It's without price. You may
+have it if you'll believe in him and love him,
+father. I can't talk."</p>
+
+<p>She had talked too much, or the excitement
+had been too strong for her. Her
+words were broken off by coughing, and she
+remarked that her lip must have bled again.
+Her father laid her on the bed, and from
+that time for a number of days she was kept
+as quiet as possible; for her strength had
+failed anew and yet more than at first.</p>
+
+<p>For two weeks she hardly moved from the
+bed. But except that she was so very pale,
+she did not look very ill; her face wore just
+its own patient and happy expression. Her
+father would not now let her talk to him;
+but he did everything she asked. He read
+to her in the Bible; Nettie would turn over
+the leaves to the place she wanted, and then
+point it out to him with a look of life, and
+love, and pleasure, that were like a whole
+sermon; and her father read first that sermon
+and then the chapter. He went to church
+as she asked him; and without her asking
+him, after the first Sunday. Nettie stayed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span>
+at home on the bed and sang psalms in her
+heart.</p>
+
+<p>After those two weeks there was a change
+for the better. Nettie felt stronger, looked
+more as she used to look, and got up and
+even went about a little. The weather was
+changing too, now. April days were growing
+soft and green; trees budding and grass
+freshening up, and birds all alive in the
+branches; and above all the air and the
+light, the wonderful soft breath of spring
+and sunshine of spring, made people forget
+that winter had ever been harsh or severe.</p>
+
+<p>Nettie went out and took little walks in
+the sun, which seemed to do her good; and
+she begged so hard to be allowed to go to
+her garret again, that her father took pity
+on her; sent Mr. Lumber away, and gave
+her her old nice little room on the same
+floor with the others. Her mother cleaned
+it and put it in order, and Nettie felt too
+happy when she found herself mistress of it
+again and possessed of a quiet place where
+she could read and pray alone. With windows
+open, how sweetly the spring walked in there,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span>
+and made it warm, and bright, and fragrant
+too. But Nettie had a tenderness for her
+old garret as long as she lived.</p>
+
+<p>"It had got to be full of the Bible, mother,"
+she said one day. "You know it was too
+cold often to sit up there; so I used to go
+to bed and lie awake and think of things,&mdash;at
+night when the stars were shining,&mdash;and
+in the morning in the moonlight sometimes."</p>
+
+<p>"But how was the garret full of the Bible,
+Nettie?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I had a way of looking at some part
+of the roof or the window when I was thinking;
+when I couldn't have the Bible in my
+hands."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, how did that make it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why the words seemed to be all over,
+mother. There was one big nail I used
+often to be looking at when I was thinking
+over texts, and a knot-hole in one of the
+wainscot boards; my texts used to seem to
+go in and out of that knot-hole. And somehow,
+mother, I got so that I hardly ever
+opened the shutter without thinking of those
+words&mdash;'Open ye the gates, that the righteous<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span>
+nation that keepeth the truth may enter in.'
+I don't know why, but I used to think of it.
+And out of that window I used to see the
+stars, and look at the golden city."</p>
+
+<p>"Look at it!" said Mrs. Mathieson.</p>
+
+<p>"In my thoughts, you know, mother. Oh,
+mother, how happy we are, that are going to
+the city! It seems to me as if all that sunlight
+was a curtain let down, and the city is
+just on the other side."</p>
+
+<p>It was a lovely spring day, the windows
+open, and the country flooded with a soft
+misty sunlight, through which the tender
+greens of the opening leaf began to appear.
+Nettie was lying on the bed in her room, her
+mother at work by her side. Mrs. Mathieson
+looked at her earnest eyes, and then
+wistfully out of the window where they were
+gazing.</p>
+
+<p>"What makes you think so much about
+it?" she said, at last.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know; I always do. I used to
+think about it last winter, looking out at
+the stars. Why, mother, you know Jesus<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span>
+is there; how can I help thinking about
+it?"</p>
+
+<p>"He is here, too," murmured poor Mrs.
+Mathieson.</p>
+
+<p>"Mother," said Nettie, tenderly, "aren't
+those good words,&mdash;'He hath not despised
+nor abhorred the affliction of the afflicted,
+neither hath he hid his face from him;
+but when he cried unto him, <em>he heard</em>?'
+I have thought of those words, very
+often."</p>
+
+<p>Nettie wished she could sing, for she had
+often seen singing comfort her mother; but
+she had not the power to-day. She gave her
+the best she could. Her words, however,
+constantly carried hurt and healing together
+to her mother's mind. But when Nettie
+went on to repeat softly the verse of a hymn
+that follows, she was soothed, notwithstanding
+the hinted meaning in the words. So sweet
+was the trust of the hymn, so unruffled the
+trust of the speaker. The words were from
+a little bit of a book of translations of German
+hymns which Mr. Folke, her Sunday-school<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span>
+teacher, had brought her, and which was
+never out of Nettie's hand.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"'As God leads me so my heart<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In faith shall rest.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">No grief nor fear my soul shall part<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">From Jesus' breast.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In sweet belief I know<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">What way my life doth go&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Since God permitteth so&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That must be best.'"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Slowly she said the words, with her usual
+sober, placid face; and Mrs. Mathieson was
+mute.</p>
+
+<p>For some weeks, as the spring breathed
+warmer and warmer, Nettie revived; so
+much that her mother at times felt encouraged
+about her. Mr. Mathieson was
+never deceived. Whether his former neglect
+of his child had given him particular keenness
+of vision in all that concerned her now,
+or for whatever reason, <em>he</em> saw well enough
+and saw constantly that Nettie was going to
+leave him. There was never a wish of hers
+uncared for now; there was not a straw
+suffered to lie in her path, that he could
+take out of it. He went to church, and he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span>
+read at home; he changed his behaviour to
+her mother as well as to herself, and he
+brought Barry to his bearings. What more
+did Nettie want?</p>
+
+<p>One Sunday, late in May, Nettie had stayed
+at home alone while the rest of the family
+were gone to church, the neighbour down
+stairs having promised to look after her.
+She needed no looking after, though; she
+spent her time pleasantly with her Bible
+and her hymns, till feeling tired she went to
+her room to lie down. The windows were
+open; it was a very warm day; the trees
+were in leaf, and from her bed Nettie could
+only see the sunshine in the leaves, and in
+one place through a gap in the trees, a bit
+of bright hill-side afar off. The birds sang
+merrily, and nothing else sounded at all; it
+was very Sabbath stillness. So Nettie lay
+till she heard the steps of the church-goers
+returning; and presently, after her mother
+had been there and gone, her father came
+into her room to see her. He kissed her,
+and said a few words, and then went to the
+window and stood there looking out. Both<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span>
+were silent some time, while the birds sang
+on.</p>
+
+<p>"Father," said Nettie.</p>
+
+<p>He turned instantly, and asked her what
+she wanted.</p>
+
+<p>"Father," said Nettie, "the streets of the
+city are all of gold."</p>
+
+<p>"Well," said he, meeting her grave eyes,
+"and what then, Nettie?"</p>
+
+<p>"Only, I was thinking, if the <em>streets</em> are
+gold, how clean must the feet be that walk
+on them!"</p>
+
+<p>He knew what her intent eyes meant, and
+he sat down by her bedside and laid his face
+in his hands. "I am a sinful man, Nettie!"
+he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Father, 'this is a faithful saying, that
+Jesus Christ came into the world to save
+sinners.'"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't deserve he should save me,
+Nettie."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, father, ask him to save you, <em>because</em>
+you don't deserve it."</p>
+
+<p>"What sort of a prayer would that be?"</p>
+
+<p>"The right one, father; for Jesus does<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span>
+deserve it, and for his sake is the only way.
+If you deserved it, you wouldn't want Jesus;
+but now '<em>he</em> is our peace.' O father listen,
+listen, to what the Bible says." She had
+been turning the leaves of her Bible, and
+read low and earnestly&mdash;"'Now we are ambassadors
+for God, as though God did beseech
+you by us; we pray you, in Christ's stead,
+be ye reconciled to God.' Oh, father, aren't
+you willing to be reconciled to him?"</p>
+
+<p>"God knows I am willing!" said Mr.
+Mathieson.</p>
+
+<p>"<em>He</em> is willing, I am sure," said Nettie.
+"'He was wounded for our transgressions, he
+was bruised for our iniquities, the chastisement
+of our peace was upon him.' He has
+made peace; he is the Prince of Peace; he
+will give it to you, father."</p>
+
+<p>There was a long silence. Mr. Mathieson
+never stirred. Nor Nettie, hardly. The
+words were true of her,&mdash;"He that believeth
+shall not make haste." She waited, looking
+at him. Then he said, "What must I do,
+Nettie?"</p>
+
+<p>"Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span>
+"How, child?"</p>
+
+<p>"Father, the best way is to ask him, and
+he will tell you how. If you are only willing
+to be his servant&mdash;if you are willing to give
+yourself to the Lord Jesus&mdash;are you willing,
+father?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am willing, anything!&mdash;if he will have
+me," said Mr. Mathieson.</p>
+
+<p>"Then go, father!" said Nettie, eagerly;&mdash;"go
+and ask him, and he will teach you how;
+he will, he has promised. Go, father, and ask
+the Lord&mdash;will you? Go now."</p>
+
+<p>Her father remained still a moment&mdash;then
+he rose up and went out of the room, and she
+heard his steps going up to the unused attic.
+Nettie crossed her hands upon her breast, and
+smiled. She was too much exhausted to
+pray, otherwise than with a thought.</p>
+
+<p>Her mother soon came in, and startled by
+her flushed look, asked how she did.
+"Well," Nettie said. Mrs. Mathieson was
+uneasy, and brought her something to take,
+which Nettie couldn't eat; and insisted on
+her lying still and trying to go to sleep.
+Nettie thought she could not sleep; and she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span>
+did not for some time; then slumber stole
+over her, and she slept sweetly and quietly
+while the hours of the summer afternoon
+rolled away. Her mother watched beside her
+for a long while before she awoke; and
+during that time read surely in Nettie's
+delicate cheek and too delicate colour, what
+was the sentence of separation. She read it,
+and smothered the cry of her heart, for
+Nettie's sake.</p>
+
+<p>The sun was descending toward the western
+hilly country, and long level rays of light
+were playing in the tree-tops, when Nettie
+awoke.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you there, mother?" she said&mdash;"and
+is the Sunday so near over! How I have
+slept."</p>
+
+<p>"How do you feel, dear?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, I feel well," said Nettie. "It has
+been a good day. The gold is all in the air
+here&mdash;not in the streets." She had half
+raised herself and was sitting looking out of
+the window.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you think of that city all the time?"
+inquired Mrs. Mathieson, half jealously.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span>
+"Mother," said Nettie, slowly, still looking
+out at the sunlight, "would you be very
+sorry, and very much surprised, if I were to
+go there before long?"</p>
+
+<p>"I should not be very much surprised,
+Nettie," answered her mother, in a tone that
+told all the rest. Her child's eye turned to
+her sorrowfully and understandingly.</p>
+
+<p>"You'll not be very long before you'll
+be there too," she said. "Now kiss me,
+mother."</p>
+
+<p>Could Mrs. Mathieson help it? She took
+Nettie in her arms, but instead of the required
+kiss there came a burst of passion
+that bowed her head in convulsive grief
+against her child's breast. The pent-up
+sorrow, the great burden of love and tenderness,
+the unspoken gratitude, the unspeakable
+longing of heart, all came in those
+tears and sobs that shook her as if she had
+forgotten on what a frail support she was
+half resting. Nay, nature must speak this
+one time; she had taken the matter into her
+own hands, and she was not to be struggled
+with, for a while. Nettie bore it&mdash;how did<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span>
+she bear it? With a little trembling of lip
+at first; then that passed, and with quiet
+sorrow she saw and felt the suffering which
+had broken forth so stormily. True to her
+office, the little peacemaker tried her healing
+art. Softly stroking her mother's face and head
+while she spoke, she said very softly and slowly,</p>
+
+<p>"Mother, you know it is Jesus that said,
+'Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall
+be comforted.' You have the mourning now,
+but he will find the comfort by and by."</p>
+
+<p>Ashamed of her giving way, and of her
+having left it to the weak one to act the part
+of the strong, Mrs. Mathieson checked herself,
+held up her head and dried her tears. Nettie
+lay down wearily.</p>
+
+<p>"I will stay here, mother," she said, "till
+tea is ready; and then I will come." Mrs.
+Mathieson went to attend to it.</p>
+
+<p>When Nettie went into the other room,
+her father was sitting there. She said nothing
+however, and even for some time did not look
+in his face to see what he might have to say
+to her. She took a cup of tea and a biscuit,
+and eat an egg that her mother had boiled<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span>
+for her. It was when supper was over, and
+they had moved from the table and Mrs.
+Mathieson was busy about, that Nettie turned
+her eyes once more upon her father, with
+their soft, full inquiry. He looked grave,
+subdued, tender; she had heard that in his
+voice already; not as she had ever seen him
+look before. He met her eyes, and answered
+them.</p>
+
+<p>"I understand it now, Nettie," he said.</p>
+
+<p>It was worth while to see Nettie's smile.
+She was not a child very given to expressing
+her feelings, and when pleasure reached that
+point with her, it was something to see such
+a breaking of light upon a face that generally
+dwelt in twilight sobriety. Her father drew
+her close, close within his arms; and without
+one word Nettie sat there, till, for very happiness
+and weariness, she fell asleep; and he
+carried her to her room.</p>
+
+<p>There was a great calm fell upon the family
+for a little time thereafter. It was like one
+of those spring days that were passed&mdash;full
+of misty light, and peace, and hope, and
+promise. It was a breath of rest.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span>
+But they knew it would end&mdash;for a time;
+and one summer day the end came. It was
+a Sunday again, and again Nettie was lying
+on her bed, enjoying in her weakness the
+loveliness of the air and beauty without.
+Her mother was with her, and knew that she
+had been failing very fast for some days.
+Nettie knew it too.</p>
+
+<p>"How soon do you think father will be
+home?" she said.</p>
+
+<p>"Not before another hour, I think," said
+Mrs. Mathieson. "Why, what of it, Nettie?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing&mdash;&mdash;" said Nettie, doubtfully.
+"I'd like him to come."</p>
+
+<p>"It wont be long," said her mother.</p>
+
+<p>"Mother, I am going to give you my little
+dear hymn book," said Nettie, presently;
+"and I want to read you this hymn now,
+and then you will think of me when you read
+it. May I?"</p>
+
+<p>"Read," said Mrs. Mathieson; and she
+put up her hand to hide her face from Nettie.
+Nettie did not look, however; her eyes were
+on her hymn, and she read it, low and
+sweetly&mdash;very sweetly&mdash;through. There was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span>
+no tremor in her voice, but now and then a
+little accent of joy or a shade of tenderness.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"'Meet again! yes, we shall meet again,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Though now we part in pain!<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">His people all<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Together Christ shall call.<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Hallelujah!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"'Soon the days of absence shall be o'er,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And thou shalt weep no more;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Our meeting day<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Shall wipe all tears away.<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Hallelujah!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"'Now I go with gladness to our home,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With gladness thou shalt come;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">There I will wait<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">To meet thee at heaven's gate.<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Hallelujah!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"'Dearest! what delight again to share<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Our sweet communion there!<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">To walk among<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">The holy ransomed throng.<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Hallelujah!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"'Here, in many a grief, our hearts were one,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">But there in joys alone;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Joys fading never,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Increasing, deepening ever.<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Hallelujah!<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"'Not to mortal sight can it be given<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To know the bliss of heaven;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">But thou shalt be<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Soon there, and sing with me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Hallelujah!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"'Meet again! yes, we shall meet again,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Though now we part in vain!<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">His people all<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Together Christ shall call.<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Hallelujah!'"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Mrs. Mathieson's head bowed as the hymn
+went on, but she dared not give way to tears,
+and Nettie's manner half awed and half
+charmed her into quietness. It was not likely
+she would forget those words ever. When
+the reading had ceased, and in a few minutes
+Mrs. Mathieson felt that she could look
+toward Nettie again, she saw that the book
+had fallen from her hand and that she was
+almost fainting. Alarmed instantly, she
+called for help, and got one of the inmates
+of the house to go after Mr. Mathieson. But
+Nettie sank so fast, they were afraid he would
+not come in time. The messenger came back
+without having been able to find him; for
+after the close of the services in the church<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span>
+Mr. Mathieson had gone out of his way on
+an errand of kindness. Nettie herself was
+too low to ask for him, if indeed she was
+conscious that he was not there. They could
+not tell; she lay without taking any notice.</p>
+
+<p>But just as the last rays of the sun were
+bright in the leaves of the trees and on the
+hills in the distance, Mr. Mathieson's step
+was heard. One of the neighbours met him
+and told him what he must expect; and
+he came straight to Nettie's room. And
+when he bent down over her and spoke,
+Nettie knew his voice and opened her eyes,
+and once more smiled. It was like a smile
+from another country. Her eyes were fixed
+on him. Mr. Mathieson bent yet nearer
+and put his lips to hers; then he tried to
+speak.</p>
+
+<p>"My little peacemaker, what shall I do
+without you?"</p>
+
+<p>Nettie drew a long, long breath. "Peace&mdash;is&mdash;made,"
+she slowly said.</p>
+
+<p>And the peacemaker was gone.</p>
+
+
+<p class="center" style="margin-top: 40px; margin-bottom: 80px;">THE END.</p>
+
+<p class="footnote"><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> See Frontispiece.</p>
+
+<p class="footnote"><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> A festival common in America on the completion of a
+house.</p>
+
+<p class="footnote"><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> <em>Waffles</em>, a species of sweet-cake used on such festivals
+in America.</p>
+
+<p class="center" style="margin-top: 80px; margin-bottom: 80px;"><span class="smcap">London: The Broadway, Ludgate Hill.</span><br/>
+<span class="smcap">New York: 416, Broome Street.</span>
+</p>
+
+
+
+<h2>GEORGE ROUTLEDGE &amp; SONS'
+JUVENILE BOOKS.</h2>
+
+<table class="books" summary="George Routledge and Sons' Juvenile Books">
+<tr>
+<th class="right">s.</th>
+<th class="right">d.</th>
+<th style="width: 100%;">&nbsp;</th>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="right">8</td>
+<td class="right">6</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Every Boy's Book.</span> Edited by <em>Edmund Routledge</em>. A New Edition, Re-written and Revised. A Complete Encyclop&aelig;dia of Sports and Amusements, &amp;c. With 600 Engravings by Harvey and Harrison Weir, and Coloured Illustrations. Crown 8vo, cloth gilt.</td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+<p class="center fpc" style="margin-bottom: 40px;"><em>In 4to, cloth, and royal 8vo, gilt and gilt edges, price 7s. 6d.</em></p>
+
+<table class="books" summary="George Routledge and Sons' Juvenile Books">
+<tr>
+<th class="right">s.</th>
+<th class="right">d.</th>
+<th style="width: 100%;">&nbsp;</th>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="right">7</td>
+<td class="right">6</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Grimm's Household Stories.</span> With 240 Illustrations.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Rev. J. G. Wood's Our Garden Friends and Foes.</span> 200 Illustrations.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Andersen's Stories for the Household.</span> 200 Plates.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Jabez Hogg on the Microscope.</span> 500 Illustrations.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Poets' Corner.</span> A Selection of Poetry. Edited by <em>J. C. M. Bellew</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Sheridan Knowles's Dramatic Works.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Kitto's Bible History.</span></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+<p class="center fpc" style="margin-bottom: 40px;"><em>In cloth, gilt edges, price 6s. each.</em></p>
+
+<table class="books" summary="George Routledge and Sons' Juvenile Books">
+<tr>
+<th class="right">s.</th>
+<th class="right">d.</th>
+<th style="width: 100%;">&nbsp;</th>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="right">6</td>
+<td class="right">0</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Routledge's Every Boy's Annual.</span> Edited by <em>Edmund Routledge</em>. With Coloured Illustrations.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Pepper's Play-Book of Science.</span> 400 Plates.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">D'Aulnoy's Fairy Tales.</span> Translated by <em>Planch&eacute;</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Don Quixote.</span> With Illustrations.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Planche's Fairy Tales.</span> By <em>Perrault</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">An Illustrated Natural History.</span> By the <em>Rev. J. G. Wood, M.A.</em> With 500 Illustrations by William Harvey, and 8 Full-page Plates by Wolf and Harrison Weir.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Pepper's Play-Book of Mines, Minerals, and Metals.</span> With 300 Illustrations.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Motley's Rise of the Dutch Republic.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Pictures from Nature.</span> By <em>Mary Howitt</em>. With Coloured Plates.</td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+<h3 class="books">Routledge's Five-Shilling Juvenile Books.</h3>
+
+<p class="center fpc"><em>With Many Illustrations, bound in cloth gilt.</em></p>
+
+<table class="books" summary="Routledge's Five-Shilling Juvenile Books">
+<tr>
+<th class="right">s.</th>
+<th class="right">d.</th>
+<th style="width: 100%;">&nbsp;</th>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="right">5</td>
+<td class="right">0</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">My Mother's Picture-Book.</span> Containing 24 Full-page Pictures, printed in Colours by Kronheim. Demy 4to, cloth.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Red Riding-Hood Picture-Book.</span> Containing 24 Full-page Pictures, printed in Colours by Kronheim. Demy 4to.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Snow-White and Rose-Red Picture-Book.</span> With 24 pages of Coloured Plates, by Kronheim and others.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Schnick-Schnack.</span> A New Edition, with Coloured Plates. In New Binding. Imperial 16mo, cloth.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Orville College Boys</span>: A Story of School Life. By <em>Mrs. Henry Wood</em>, Author of "East Lynne."&nbsp; With Illustrations. Post 8vo, cloth, gilt edges.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Adventures of Stephen Scudamore.</span> By <em>Arthur Locker</em>. With Full-page Plates. Post 8vo, cloth, gilt edges.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Tales of the Civil War.</span> By the <em>Rev. H. C. Adams, M.A.</em> With Full-page Plates. Fcap. 8vo, cloth, gilt edges.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Hunting Grounds of the Old World.</span> By the <em>Old Shekarry</em>. New Edition. With Illustrations. Crown 8vo.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Marryat's Children of the New Forest.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Marryat's Little Savage.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Great Sieges of History.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">M'Farlane's British India.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Lillian's Golden Hours.</span> By <em>Silverpen</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Young Yagers.</span> By <em>Mayne Reid</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Young Voyageurs.</span> By ditto.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Boy Tar.</span> By ditto.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Wonders of Science.</span> By <em>H. Mayhew</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Peasant Boy Philosopher.</span> By ditto.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Odd People.</span> By <em>Mayne Reid</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Plant Hunters.</span> By ditto.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Ran Away to Sea.</span> By ditto.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The White Brunswickers.</span> By the <em>Rev. H. C. Adams</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Boy's Treasury of Sports and Pastimes.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Hollowdell Grange.</span> By <em>G. M. Fenn</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Queens of Society.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Wits and Beaux of Society.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">My Father's Garden.</span> By <em>Thomas Miller</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Barford Bridge.</span> By <em>Rev. H. C. Adams</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Studies for Stories.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Papers for Thoughtful Girls.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Boy's Own Country Book.</span> By <em>T. Miller</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Forest Ranger.</span> By <em>Major Campbell</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Among the Squirrels.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Wonderful Inventions.</span> By <em>John Timbs</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Robinson Crusoe.</span> 300 Illustrations.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Entertaining Knowledge.</span> With 140 Plates.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Pleasant Tales.</span> With 140 Plates.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">&AElig;sop's Fables.</span> With Plates by H. Weir.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Extraordinary Men and Women.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Dora and her Papa.</span> By the Author of "Lillian's Golden Hours."</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Tales upon Texts.</span> By <em>Rev. H. C. Adams</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Illustrated Girl's Own Treasury.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Great Battles of the British Army.</span> Coloured Plates.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Prince of the House of David.</span> With Plates.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Pillar of Fire.</span> With Plates.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Throne of David.</span> With Plates.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Story of the Reformation.</span> By <em>D'Aubign&eacute;</em></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Popular Astronomy and Orbs of Heaven.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Wood's Natural History Picture-Book: Animals.</span> 170 Illustrations. Fcap. 4to.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Wood's Natural History Picture-Book: Birds.</span> 240 Illustrations. Fcap. 4to.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Wood's Natural History Picture-Book: Fish, Reptiles, Insects,</span> &amp;c. 260 Illustrations. Fcap. 4to.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Golden Light</span>: Stories for the Young. With 80 large Pictures. Imp. 16mo.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Popular Nursery Tales and Rhymes.</span> With 170 Illustrations. Imp. 16mo.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Hans Andersen's Stories and Tales.</span> With 80 Illustrations. Imp. 16mo.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Scripture Natural History.</span> By <em>Maria E. Catlow</em>. With 16 pages of Coloured Illustrations. Square.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Picture History of England.</span> With 80 Full-page Illustrations. Fcap. 4to.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">What the Moon Saw</span>, and Other Tales. By <em>Hans C. Andersen</em>, With 80 Illustrations. Imp. 16mo.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Book of Trades.</span> With Hundreds of Illustrations. Imp. 16mo.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Routledge's Scripture Gift-Book.</span> With Coloured Plates. Demy 4to.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Child's Coloured Scripture Book.</span> With 100 Coloured Plates. Imp. 16mo.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Good Child's Coloured Book.</span> Oblong folio. 24 Coloured Plates.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Child's Picture Book of Wild Animals.</span> 12 Plates, printed in Colours by Kronheim. Large oblong, boards. (Cloth, 6<em>s.</em>)</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Pictures from English History.</span> 24 Pages of Col. Plates.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Otto Speckter's Picture Fables.</span> With 100 Coloured Plates. 4to, gilt edges.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Pleasure Book of the Year</span>: A Picture Book with Coloured Plates.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Animal Life all the World Over.</span> Large Coloured Plates. Fancy boards. (Cloth, 6<em>s.</em>)</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Buds and Flowers of Childish Life.</span> With Coloured Plates (uniform with "Schnick-Schnack"). Imp. 16mo.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Child's Picture Book of Domestic Animals.</span> 12 large Plates, printed in Colours by Kronheim. Large oblong, boards. (In cloth, 6<em>s.</em>)</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Our Nurse's Picture Book.</span> With 24 Pages of Coloured Plates. Demy 4to.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Routledge's Picture Scrap-Book.</span> Folio, boards.</td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<h3 class="books">Routledge's Three-and-Sixpenny Juvenile Books.</h3>
+
+<p class="center fpc"><em>All well Illustrated, bound in cloth.</em></p>
+
+<table class="books" summary="Routledge's Three-and-Sixpenny Juvenile Books">
+<tr>
+<th class="right">s.</th>
+<th class="right">d.</th>
+<th style="width: 100%;">&nbsp;</th>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="right">3</td>
+<td class="right">6</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Our Domestic Pets.</span> By the <em>Rev. J. G. Wood, M.A.</em> With 16 Full-page Illustrations. Fcap. 8vo, cloth.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Jack of the Mill.</span> By <em>William Howitt</em>.&nbsp; With Page Illustrations. Fcap. 8vo, cloth.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Patience Strong</span>: A Book for Girls. By the Author of "The Gayworthys." With Illustrations. Fcap. 8vo, cloth.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Don Quixote.</span> A New Edition for Family Reading. With Plates by John Gilbert. Crown 8vo, cloth gilt.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Pilgrim's Progress.</span> Edited by <em>Archdeacon Allen</em>. With Coloured Plates. Fcap. 8vo, cloth, gilt edges.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Petsetilla's Posy</span>: A Fairy Tale. By <em>Tom Hood</em>. With numerous Illustrations by Fred Barnard. Small 4to, cloth, gilt.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Child Life.</span> With Illustrations by Oscar Pletsch. Small 4to, cloth, gilt edges.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Girl's Birthday Book.</span> With many Illustrations. Crown 8vo, cloth, gilt edges.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Boy Gipsies.</span> By <em>St. John Corbet</em>. With Illustrations. Fcap. 8vo, cloth gilt.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Routledge's Album for Children.</span> By the Author of "Schnick-Schnack." With 180 Page Plates. Imp. 16mo, cloth.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">What She Did with Her Life.</span> By <em>Marion F. Theed</em>. With Illustrations. Fcap. 8vo, cloth, gilt edges.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Picture Story-Book.</span> Containing "King Nutcracker," and other Tales. Fcap. 8vo, cloth, gilt edges.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Guizot's Moral Tales.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Hans Andersen's Tales.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Island Home.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Boys at Home.</span> By <em>Miss Adams</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Heroines of History.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Sketches and Anecdotes of Animal Life.</span> By <em>Rev. J. G. Wood</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Esperanza.</span> By <em>Anne Bowman</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Grimm's Home Stories.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Animal Traits and Characteristics.</span> By <em>Rev. J. G. Wood</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">My Feathered Friends.</span> By ditto.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">White's Selborne.</span> 200 Cuts.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Forest Life.</span> By <em>Newland</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Four Sisters.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Marmaduke Merry, the Midshipman.</span> By <em>Kingston</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Freaks on the Fells.</span> By. <em>R. M. Ballantyne</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Young Yachtsman.</span> By <em>Anne Bowman</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Lamb's Tales from Shakspere.</span> With Coloured Plates.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Balderscourt</span>; or, Holiday Tales. By the <em>Rev. H. C. Adams</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Boy Pilgrims.</span> By <em>Anne Bowman</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Among the Tartar Tents.</span> By ditto.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Rob Roy.</span> By <em>James Grant</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Tom and the Crocodiles.</span> By <em>Anne Bowman</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Johnny Jordan.</span> By <em>Mrs. Eiloart</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Ernie Elton, at Home and at School.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Village Idol.</span> By the Author of "A Trap to Catch a Sunbeam."</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Children of Blessing.</span> By the Author of "The Four Sisters."</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Last Homes of Departed Genius.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Lost among the Wild Men.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Percy's Tales of the Kings and Queens of England.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Boys of Beechwood.</span> By <em>Mrs. Eiloart</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Cecile Raye.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Papa's Wise Dogs.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Play Hours and Half Holidays.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Kangaroo Hunters.</span> By <em>Anne Bowman</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Golden Rule.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Edgar's Boyhood of Great Men.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Footprints of Famous Men.</span> By <em>J. G. Edgar</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Rev. J. G. Wood's Boy's Own Natural History Book.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Tales of Charlton School.</span> By the <em>Rev. H. C. Adams</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">School-Boy Honour.</span> By ditto.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Red Eric.</span> By <em>R. M. Ballantyne</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Louis' School Days.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Wild Man of the West.</span> By <em>R. M. Ballantyne</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Dogs and their Ways.</span> By <em>Williams</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Digby Heathcote.</span> By <em>Kingston</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Bruin.</span> By <em>Mayne Reid</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Desert Home.</span> By ditto.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Walks and Talks of Two Schoolboys.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Forest Exiles.</span> By <em>Mayne Reid</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Young Nile Voyagers.</span> By <em>Miss Bowman</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Wonder Book.</span> By <em>Nathaniel Hawthorne</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Boy Foresters.</span> By <em>Anne Bowman</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Doctor's Ward.</span> By the Author of "The Four Sisters."</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Will Adams.</span> By <em>Dalton</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Arabian Nights.</span> Family Edition.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Little Ladders to Learning.</span> First Series.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Little Ladders to Learning.</span> Second Series.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Child's Country Book.</span> By <em>Thos. Miller</em>. With Coloured Plates.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Child's Country Story-Book.</span> By ditto. With Coloured Plates.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Uncle Tom's Cabin.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Tom Dunstone's Troubles.</span> By <em>Mrs. Eiloart</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Young Marooners.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Fred and the Gorillas.</span> By <em>Thomas Miller</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Adventures of Robin Hood.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Influence.</span> By the Author of "A Trap to Catch a Sunbeam."</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Sporting Adventures in Many Lands.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Girls of the Family.</span> By the Author of "A Trap to Catch a Sunbeam."</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Paul Gerard the Cabin Boy.</span> By <em>Kingston</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Dick Rodney.</span> By <em>James Grant</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Jack Manly.</span> By <em>James Grant</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Dashwood Priory.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Heroines of Domestic Life.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Bear-Hunters of the Rocky Mountains.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Helen Mordaunt.</span> By the Author of "Naomi."</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Castaways.</span> By <em>Anne Bowman</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Boy Voyagers.</span> By <em>Anne Bowman</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Young Exiles.</span> By <em>Anne Bowman</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Matilda Lonsdale.</span> By <em>C. Adams</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Lillieslea.</span> By <em>Mary Howitt</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<h3 class="books">Three-and-Sixpenny One-Syllable Juveniles.</h3>
+
+<p class="center fpc"><em>Square 16mo, cloth gilt, Coloured Plates; by Mary Godolphin.</em></p>
+
+<table class="books" summary="Three-and-Sixpenny One-Syllable Juveniles">
+<tr>
+<td><span class="smcap">Robinson Crusoe.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><span class="smcap">Swiss Family Robinson.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><span class="smcap">Evenings at Home.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><span class="smcap">Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress.</span></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+<p class="center fpc"><em>Also Uniform, in Short Words.</em></p>
+
+<table class="books" summary="Three-and-Sixpenny One-Syllable Juveniles">
+<tr>
+<th style="width: 100%;">&nbsp;</th>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Child's Country Book.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Child's Country Story Book.</span></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<h3 class="books">Routledge's Three-and-Sixpenny Reward Books.</h3>
+
+<p class="center fpc"><em>With 8 Illustrations, fcap. 8vo, bevelled boards,
+gilt sides and gilt edges.</em></p>
+
+<table class="books" summary="Routledge's Three-and-Sixpenny Reward Books">
+<tr>
+<th class="right">s.</th>
+<th class="right">d.</th>
+<th style="width: 100%;">&nbsp;</th>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="right">3</td>
+<td class="right">6</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Robinson Crusoe.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Sandford and Merton.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Evenings at Home.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Swiss Family Robinson.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Edgeworth's Popular Tales.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Edgeworth's Moral Tales.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Edgeworth's Parent's Assistant.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Edgeworth's Early Lessons.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Old Tales for the Young.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Clarissa</span>; or, The Mervyn Inheritance. By <em>Miss Bowman</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Old Helmet.</span> By the Author of "The Wide, Wide World."</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Wide, Wide World.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Dawnings of Genius.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Travels of Rolando.</span> First Series.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Celebrated Children.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Edgar Clifton.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Lamplighter.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Melbourne House.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Romance of Adventure.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Seven Wonders of the World.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Queechy.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Ellen Montgomery's Bookshelf.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Two School Girls.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Ancient Cities of the World.</span></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<h3 class="books">Routledge's Two-and-Sixpenny Juvenile Books.</h3>
+
+<p class="center fpc"><em>Well Illustrated, and bound in cloth.</em></p>
+
+<table class="books" summary="Routledge's Two-and-Sixpenny Juvenile Books">
+<tr>
+<th class="right">s.</th>
+<th class="right">d.</th>
+<th style="width: 100%;">&nbsp;</th>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="right">2</td>
+<td class="right">6</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Friend or Foe.</span> A Tale of Sedgmoor. By the <em>Rev. H. C. Adams, M.A.</em> With Page Illustrations. Fcap. 8vo, cloth.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Eda Morton and her Cousins.</span> By <em>M. M. Bell</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Gilbert the Adventurer.</span> By <em>Peter Parley</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Lucky Penny</span>, and other Tales. By <em>Mrs. S. C. Hall</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Minnie Raymond.</span> Illustrated by B. Foster.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Helena Bertram.</span> By the Author of "The Four Sisters."</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Heroes of the Workshop</span>, &amp;c. By <em>E. L. Brightwell</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Sunshine and Clouds.</span> By <em>Miss Bowman</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Maze of Life.</span> By the Author of "The Four Sisters."</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Wide, Wide World.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Lamplighter.</span> By <em>Cummins</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Rector's Daughter.</span> By <em>Miss Bowman</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Old Helmet.</span> By <em>Miss Wetherell</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Queechy.</span> By <em>Miss Wetherell</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Sir Roland Ashton.</span> By <em>Lady C. Long</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Twins</span>; or, Sisterly Love.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Ellen Montgomery's Bookshelf.</span> Coloured Illustrations.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Two School Girls.</span> With Coloured Illustrations.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Melbourne House.</span> By <em>Miss Wetherell</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Word, and Walks from Eden.</span> By ditto.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Rough Diamonds.</span> By <em>John Hollingshead</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Medwins of Wykeham.</span> By the Author of "Marian."</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Boy Cavalier.</span> By the <em>Rev. H. C. Adams</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Gilderoy, the Hero of Scotland.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Fairy Tales.</span> By <em>Madame de Chatelaine</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Emily Chester.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Lamb's Tales.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Stories of Old Daniel.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Extraordinary Men.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Extraordinary Women.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Young Artists.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Life of Napoleon.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Popular Astronomy.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Orbs of Heaven.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Pilgrim's Progress.</span></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<h3 class="books">Routledge's Two-Shilling Juvenile Books.</h3>
+
+<p class="center fpc"><em>Illustrated. Bound in Cloth.</em></p>
+
+<table class="books" summary="Routledge's Two-Shilling Juvenile Books">
+<tr>
+<th class="right">s.</th>
+<th class="right">d.</th>
+<th style="width: 100%;">&nbsp;</th>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="right">2</td>
+<td class="right">0</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Austen's Tales.</span> Five vols., with Illustrations, fcap. 8vo, cloth, price 2<em>s.</em> each.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Village Sketches.</span> By the <em>Rev. C. T. Whitehead</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Play-Day Book.</span> By <em>Fanny Fern</em>. With Coloured Plates by Kronheim. Fcap. 8vo, cloth.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Conquest and Self-Conquest.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Evenings at Donaldson Manor.</span> By <em>M'Intosh</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Grace and Isabel.</span> By <em>M'Intosh</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Gertrude and Eulalie.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Robert and Harold.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Amy Carlton.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Robinson Crusoe.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Laura Temple.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Our Native Land.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Harry and his Homes.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Solitary Hunter.</span> By <em>Palliser</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Bundle of Sticks</span>; or, Love and Hate. By <em>J. &amp; E. Kirby</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Family Pictures from the Bible.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Hester and I</span>; or, Beware of Worldliness.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Cherry-Stones.</span> By the <em>Rev. H. C. Adams</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The First of June.</span> By ditto.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Rosa.</span> A Story for Girls.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">May Dundas</span>; or, The Force of Example. By <em>Mrs. Geldart</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Glimpses of Our Island Home.</span> By ditto.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Indian Boy.</span> By the <em>Rev. H. C. Adams</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Ernie Elton at Home.</span> By <em>Mrs. Eiloart</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Standard Poetry Book for Schools.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Try and Trust.</span> By the Author of "Arthur Morland."</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Ten Moral Tales.</span> By <em>Guizot</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Orphans of Waterloo.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Boy's Reader.</span> With Illustrations.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Girl's Reader.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Gates Ajar.</span> With 8 Plates.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Charms and Counter Charms.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Robinson the Younger.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Juvenile Tales.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Swiss Family Robinson.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Evenings at Home.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Sandford and Merton.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Ernie Elton at School.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">John Hartley.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Wonder Book.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Tanglewood Tales.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Archie Blake.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Inez and Emmeline.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Maum Guinea.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Jack of all Trades.</span> By <em>T. Miller</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Orphan of Waterloo.</span> By <em>Mrs. Blackford</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Adventures of Joseph Hawsepipe.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Todd's Lectures to Children.</span> 1st and 2nd Series.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Marooner's Island.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Mayflower.</span> By <em>Mrs. Stowe</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Anecdotes of Dogs.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Moss-Side.</span> By <em>Miss Harland</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Mr. Rutherford's Children.</span> Complete.</td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<h3 class="books">Routledge's Eighteenpenny Juveniles.</h3>
+
+<p class="center fpc"><em>Square 16mo, with Illustrations by</em> <span class="smcap">Gilbert</span>, <span class="smcap">Absolon</span>, <em>&amp;c.</em></p>
+
+<table class="books" summary="Routledge's Eighteenpenny Juveniles">
+<tr>
+<th class="right">s.</th>
+<th class="right">d.</th>
+<th style="width: 100%;">&nbsp;</th>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="right">1</td>
+<td class="right">6</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">On the Seas.</span> A Book for Boys.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Peasant and Prince.</span> By <em>Harriet Martineau</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Crofton Boys.</span> By ditto.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Feats on the Fiord.</span> By ditto.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Settlers at Home.</span> By ditto.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Little Drummer</span>: A Tale of the Russian War.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Frank.</span> By <em>Maria Edgeworth</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Rosamond.</span> By ditto.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Harry and Lucy</span>, <span class="smcap">Little Dog Trusty</span>, &amp;c.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">A Hero</span>; or, Philip's Book. By the Author of "John Halifax."</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Cabin by the Wayside.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Black Princess.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Laura and Ellen</span>; or, Time Works Wonders.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Emigrant's Lost Son.</span> By <em>G. H. Hall</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Runaways and the Gipsies.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">British Wolf Hunters.</span> By <em>Thomas Miller</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Bow of Faith</span>; or, Old Testament Lessons.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Anchor of Hope</span>; or, New Testament Lessons. By ditto.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Accidents of Childhood</span>; or, Stories of Heedless Children.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Annie Maitland</span>; or, The Lesson of Life. By <em>D. Richmond</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Lucy Elton</span>; or, Home and School.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Young Naturalist.</span> By <em>Mrs. Loudon</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Memoirs of a Doll.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Rose and Kate.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Story of an Apple.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Holiday Rambles.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Daily Thoughts for Children.</span> By <em>Mrs. Geldart</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Emilie the Peacemaker.</span> By ditto.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Truth is Everything.</span> By ditto.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Christmas Holidays.</span> By <em>Miss Jane Strickland</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Aunt Emma.</span> By the Author of "Rose and Kate."</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Island of the Rainbow.</span> By <em>Mrs. Newton Crossland</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Max Frere</span>; Or, Return Good for Evil.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Rainbows in Springtide.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Child's First Book of Natural History.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Florence the Orphan.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Castle and the Cottage.</span> By <em>Mrs. Perring</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Fabulous Histories.</span> By <em>Mrs. Trimmer</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">School Days at Harrow.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Mrs. Barbauld's Lessons.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Holidays at Limewood.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Traditions of Palestine.</span> By <em>Mrs. Martineau</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<h3 class="books">Routledge's One-Shilling Juveniles.</h3>
+
+<p class="center fpc"><em>Well printed, with Illustrations, 18mo, cloth.</em></p>
+
+<table class="books" summary="Routledge's One-Shilling Juveniles">
+<tr>
+<th class="right">s.</th>
+<th class="right">d.</th>
+<th style="width: 100%;">&nbsp;</th>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="right">1</td>
+<td class="right">0</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Sunday Book.</span> In Words of One Syllable. Illust.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Our Poor Neighbours.</span> By <em>Mrs. Perring</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Village Sketches.</span> By the <em>Rev. C. T. Whitehead</em>, 1st and 2nd Series, 1<em>s.</em> Each.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Grace Greenwood's Stories.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Helen's Fault.</span> By the Author of "Adelaide Lindsay."</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Cousins.</span> By <em>Miss M'Intosh</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Ben Howard</span>; or, Truth and Honesty. By <em>C. Adams</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Bessie and Tom.</span> A Book for Boys and Girls.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Beechnut.</span> A Franconian Story. By <em>Jacob Abbott</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Wallace.</span> A Franconian Story. By ditto.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Madeline.</span> By ditto.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Mary Erskine.</span> By ditto.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Mary Bell.</span> By ditto.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Visit to my Birthplace.</span> By <em>Miss Bunbury</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Carl Krinken</span>; or, The Christmas Stocking.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Mr. Rutherford's Children.</span> By ditto.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Mr. Rutherford's Children.</span> 2nd Series. By ditto.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Emily Herbert.</span> By <em>Miss M'Intosh</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Rose and Lillie Stanhope.</span> By ditto.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Caspar.</span> By ditto.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Brave Boy</span>; or, Christian Heroism.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Magdalene and Raphael.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Pleasant Tales.</span> By <em>Mrs. Sedgwick</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Uncle Frank's Home Stories.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Gates Ajar.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Story of a Mouse.</span> By <em>Mrs. Perring</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Our Charlie.</span> By <em>Mrs. Stowe</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Village School Feast.</span> By <em>Mrs. Perring</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Nelly the Gipsy Girl.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Birthday Visit.</span> By <em>Miss Wetherell</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Stories for Week Days and Sundays.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Maggie and Emma.</span> By <em>Miss M'Intosh</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Charley and Georgy</span>; or, The Children at Gibraltar.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Story of a Penny.</span> By <em>Mrs. Perring</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Aunt Maddy's Diamonds.</span> By <em>Harriet Myrtle</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Two School Girls.</span> By <em>Miss Wetherell</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Widow and Her Daughter.</span> By ditto.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Gertrude and her Bible.</span> By ditto.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Rose in the Desert.</span> By ditto.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Little Black Hen.</span> By ditto.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Martha and Rachel.</span> By ditto.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Carpenter's Daughter.</span> By ditto.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Prince in Disguise.</span> By ditto.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Story of a Cat.</span> By <em>Mrs. Perring</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Easy Poetry for Children.</span> With Coloured Plates.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Basket of Flowers.</span> With ditto.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Ashgrove Farm.</span> By <em>Mrs. Myrtle</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Story of a Dog.</span> By <em>Mrs. Perring</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Angel of the Iceberg.</span> By the <em>Rev. John Todd</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Rills from the Fountain.</span> A Lesson for the Young.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Todd's Lectures to Children.</span> (First Series.)</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Todd's Lectures to Children.</span> (Second Series.)</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Little Poems for Little Readers.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Minnie's Legacy.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Neighbourly Love.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Kitty's Victory.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Elise and her Rabbits.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Happy Charlie.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Annie Price.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Little Oxleys.</span> By <em>Mrs. W. Denzey Burton</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Book of One Syllable.</span> With Coloured Plates.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Little Helps.</span> With Coloured Plates.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Uncle Tom's Cabin</span>, for Children.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Aunt Margaret's Visit.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Keeper's Travels in Search of his Master.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Richmond's Annals of the Poor.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Child's Illustrated Poetry Book.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The New Book of One Syllable.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Blanche and Agnes.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Lost Chamois-Hunter.</span></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<h3 class="books">Routledge's New Series of Shilling Toy Books.</h3>
+
+<p class="center fpc"><em>With Large Illustrations by</em> <span class="smcap">H. S. Marks</span>, <span class="smcap">J. D. Watson</span>,
+<span class="smcap">H. Weir</span>, <em>and</em> <span class="smcap">Keyl</span>, <em>Printed in Colours by Kronheim
+and Others. Demy 4to, stiff wrapper; or mounted on
+Linen, 2s.</em></p>
+
+<table class="books" summary="Routledge's New Series of Shilling Toy Books">
+<tr>
+<th class="right">s.</th>
+<th class="right">d.</th>
+<th style="width: 100%;">&nbsp;</th>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="right">1</td>
+<td class="right">0</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Alphabet of Trades.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Cinderella.</span>*</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Alphabet of Pretty Names.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Old Testament Alphabet.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Three Little Kittens.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The History of Five Little Pigs.</span>*</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Tom Thumb's Alphabet.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">New Testament Alphabet.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Cats' Tea Party.</span>*</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Our Farm-yard Alphabet.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The History of Moses.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The History of Joseph.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Alphabet of Flowers.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Nursery Rhymes</span>, 2nd Series.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Nursery Games.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The House that Jack Built.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Life of Our Lord.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Three Bears.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Red Riding-Hood.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">New Tale of a Tub.</span>*</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Nursery Tales.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Old Mother Hubbard.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Pictures from English History</span>, 1st Period.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Pictures from English History</span>, 2nd Period.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Pictures from English History</span>, 3rd Period.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Pictures from English History</span>, 4th Period.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Puss in Boots.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Tom Thumb.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Babes in the Wood.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Jack and the Bean-Stalk.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Laughable A B C.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Wild Animals</span>, 1st Series.*</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Wild Animals</span>, 2nd Series.*</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Wild Animals</span>, 3rd Series.*</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Wild Animals</span>, 4th Series.*</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Tame Animals</span>, 1st Series.*</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Tame Animals</span>, 2nd Series.*</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Tame Animals</span>, 3rd Series.*</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Tame Animals</span>, 4th Series.*</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">My Mother.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Dogs' Dinner Party.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Little Dog Trusty.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The White Cat.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Ugly Duckling.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Little Snow-White.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Dash and the Ducklings.</span></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+<p class="center fpc">* <em>Those marked with an asterisk are</em> <span class="smcap">NOT</span> <em>kept on linen.</em></p>
+
+
+<h3 class="books">Aunt Mavor's Toy Books.</h3>
+
+<p class="center fpc"><em>Large Coloured Sixpenny Books for Children, with greatly
+improved Illustrations, super-royal 8vo, in wrappers.</em></p>
+
+<table class="books" summary="Aunt Mavor's Toy Books">
+<tr>
+<th class="right">s.</th>
+<th class="right">d.</th>
+<th style="width: 100%;">&nbsp;</th>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="right">0</td>
+<td class="right">6</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">History of Our Pets.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">History of Blue Beard.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Sindbad the Sailor.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">A, Apple Pie.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Tom Thumb's Alphabet.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Baron Munchausen.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Picture Alphabet.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Arthur's Alphabet.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Dorothy Frump and her Six Dogs.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Singing Birds.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Parrots &amp; Talking Birds.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Dogs.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Nursery Rhymes.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Birds.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Railroad Alphabet.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Alphabet for Good Boys and Girls.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Sea-Side Alphabet.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Farm-Yard Alphabet.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Greedy Jem and his Little Brothers.</span>*</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Our Puss and Her Kittens.</span>*</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Hop o' my Thumb.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Jack the Giant Killer.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Little Red Riding-Hood.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Beauty and the Beast.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Happy Days of Childhood.</span>*</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Little Dog Trusty.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Cats' Tea Party.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Babes in the Wood.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Wild Animals.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">British Animals.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Frog who would a-Wooing Go.</span>*</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Faithless Parrot.</span>*</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Farm-Yard.</span>*</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Horses.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Old Dame Trot.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Multiplication Table.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Chattering Jack.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">King Cole.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Prince Long Nose.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Enraged Miller.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Hunchback.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">How Jessie was Lost.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Grammar in Rhyme.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Baby's Birthday.</span>*</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Pictures from the Streets.</span>*</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Lost on the Sea-shore.</span>*</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Animals and Birds.</span>*</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">A Child's Fancy Dress Ball.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">A Child's Evening Party.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Annie and Jack in London.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">One, Two, Buckle my Shoe.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Mary's New Doll.</span>*</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">When the Cat's Away.</span>*</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Naughty Puppy.</span>*</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Children's Favourites.</span>*</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Naughty Boys and Girls.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Little Minxes.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Struwelpeter.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Little Minnie's Child Life.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">King Nutcracker.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Lazy Bones.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">British Soldiers.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">British Sailors.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">British Volunteers.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Laughter Book for Children.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Grisly Beard.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Rumpelstiltskin.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Dog Puffy.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Fairy Ship.</span></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+<p class="center fpc"><em>The above, except those marked with an asterisk, may be had
+strongly mounted on cloth, price One Shilling each.</em></p>
+
+
+<h3 class="books">Routledge's New Threepenny Toy Books.</h3>
+
+<p class="center fpc"><em>With Coloured Pictures.</em></p>
+
+<table class="books" summary="Routledge's New Threepenny Toy Books">
+<tr>
+<th class="right">s.</th>
+<th class="right">d.</th>
+<th style="width: 100%;">&nbsp;</th>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="right">0</td>
+<td class="right">3</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Cinderella.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Red Riding-Hood.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Jack and the Beanstalk.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Puss in Boots.</span></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<h3 class="books">Routledge's Sixpenny Juveniles.</h3>
+
+<p class="center fpc"><em>Royal 32mo, with Illustrations, gilt edges.</em></p>
+
+<table class="books" summary="Routledge's Sixpenny Juveniles">
+<tr>
+<th class="right">s.</th>
+<th class="right">d.</th>
+<th style="width: 100%;">&nbsp;</th>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="right">0</td>
+<td class="right">6</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">History of My Pets.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Hubert Lee.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Ellen Leslie.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Jessie Graham.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Florence Arnott.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Blind Alice.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Grace and Clara.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Recollections of My Childhood.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Egerton Roscoe.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Flora Mortimer.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Charles Hamilton.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Story of a Drop of Water.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Learning Better than Houses and Land.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Maud's First Visit to her Aunt.</span> In Words of One Syllable.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Easy Poems.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Boy Captive.</span> By <em>Peter Parley</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Stories of Child Life.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Dairyman's Daughter.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Arthur's Tales for the Young.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Hawthorne's Gentle Boy.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Pleasant and Profitable.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The False Key.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Bracelets.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Waste Not, Want Not.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Tarleton</span>, and <span class="smcap">Forgive and Forget</span>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Lazy Lawrence and the White Pigeon.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Barring Out.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Orphans and Old Poz.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Mimic.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Purple Jar</span>, and other Tales.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Parley's Poetry &amp; Prose.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Arthur's Stories for Little Girls.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Young Cottager.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Parley's Thos. Titmouse.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Arthur's Christmas Story.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Lost Lamb.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Arthur's Stories for Little Boys.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Arthur's Organ Boy.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Margaret Jones.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Two School Girls.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Widow and her Daughter.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Rose in the Desert.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Birthday Present</span> and <span class="smcap">The Basket Woman</span>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Simple Susan.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Little Merchants.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Tale of the Universe.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Robert Dawson.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Kate Campbell.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Basket of Flowers.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Babes in the Basket.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Jewish Twins.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Children on the Plains.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Little Henry and his Bearer.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Little Black Hen.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Martha and Rachel.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Carpenter's Daughter.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Prince in Disguise.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Gertrude and her Bible.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Contrast.</span> <em>Miss Edgeworth.</em></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Grateful Negro.</span> <em>Do.</em></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Jane Hudson.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">A Kiss for a Blow.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Young Negro Servant.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Lina and her Cousins.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Arthur's Last Penny.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Bright-eyed Bessie.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Gates Ajar.</span></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<h3 class="books">Routledge's Fourpenny Juveniles.</h3>
+
+<p class="center fpc"><em>Royal 32mo, fancy covers.</em></p>
+
+<table class="books" summary="Routledge's Fourpenny Juveniles">
+<tr>
+<th class="right">s.</th>
+<th class="right">d.</th>
+<th style="width: 100%;">&nbsp;</th>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="right">0</td>
+<td class="right">4</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Basket of Flowers.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Babes in the Basket.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Easy Poems for Children.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Jessie Graham.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">History of My Pets.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Florence Arnott.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Robert Dawson.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Recollections of My Childhood.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Brooke and Brooke Farm.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Life in the Wilds.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Hill and the Valley.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Widow and her Daughter.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Two School Girls.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Jane Hudson.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">A Kiss for a Blow.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Hubert Lee.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Flora Mortimer.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">A Drop of Water.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The False Key.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Bracelets.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Purple Jar.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Simple Susan.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Kate Campbell.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Little Henry and his Bearer.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">The Gates Ajar.</span></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<h3 class="books">Routledge's Five-Shilling Poets.</h3>
+
+<p class="center fpc"><em>Edited by Rev.</em> <span class="smcap">R. A. Willmott</span>. <em>Illustrated by</em> <span class="smcap">Foster</span>,
+<span class="smcap">Gilbert</span>, <span class="smcap">Corbould</span>, <span class="smcap">Franklin</span>, <em>and</em> <span class="smcap">Harvey</span>. <em>Elegantly
+printed on good paper, post 8vo, gilt edges, bevelled
+boards.</em></p>
+
+<table class="books" summary="Routledge's Five-Shilling Poets">
+<tr>
+<th class="right">s.</th>
+<th class="right">d.</th>
+<th style="width: 100%;">&nbsp;</th>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="right">5</td>
+<td class="right">0</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Spenser's Faerie Queene.</span> Illustrated by Corbould.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Chaucer's Canterbury Tales.</span> Illustrated by ditto.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Kirke White.</span> By <em>Southey</em>. Illustrated by Birket Foster.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Southey's Joan of Arc, and Minor Poems.</span>&nbsp; Illustrated by Gilbert.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Pope's Poetical Works.</span> Edited by Carey.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Milton's Poetical Works.</span> Illustrated by Harvey.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Thomson, Beattie, and West.</span> Illust. by Birket Foster.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Herbert.</span> With Life and Notes by <em>Rev. R. A. Willmott</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Cowper.</span> Illust. by Birket Foster. Edited by <em>Willmott</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Longfellow's Complete Poetical Works.</span> Illustrated.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Longfellow's Prose Works.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Burns' Poetical Works.</span> Illustrated by John Gilbert.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Fairfax's Tasso's Jerusalem Delivered.</span> Illustrated by Corbould.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Percy's Reliques of Ancient Poetry.</span> Illust. by ditto.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Scott's Poetical Works.</span> Illustrated by ditto.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Mackay's Ballads and Lyrics.</span> Illust. by John Gilbert.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Wordsworth.</span> Illustrated by Birket Foster.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Crabbe.</span> Illustrated by ditto.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Mackay's Songs.</span> Complete Edition. Illust. by Gilbert.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Eliza Cook's Poems.</span> With Illustrations and Portrait.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Moore's Poems.</span> Illustrated by Corbould, &amp;c.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Byron's Poems.</span> Illustrated by Gilbert, Wolf, Foster.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Bennett's Poetical Works.</span> Portrait and Illustrations.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Campbell's Poetical Works.</span> Illustrated by W. Harvey.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Lover's Poetical Works.</span> Portrait and Illustrations.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Rogers' Poetical Works.</span> With Portrait, &amp;c.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Lord Lytton's Poetical Works.</span> 7<em>s.</em> 6<em>d.</em></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Lord Lytton's Dramatic Works.</span> 6<em>s.</em></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Dryden's Poetical Works.</span> With Portrait, &amp;c.</td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<h3 class="books">Routledge's Three-and-Sixpenny Poets, &amp;c.</h3>
+
+<p class="center fpc"><em>Printed on tinted paper, fcap. 8vo, gilt edges. With
+Illustrations.</em></p>
+
+<table class="books" summary="Routledge's Three-and-Sixpenny Poets, etc.">
+<tr>
+<th class="right">s.</th>
+<th class="right">d.</th>
+<th style="width: 100%;">&nbsp;</th>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="right">3</td>
+<td class="right">6</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Longfellow's Complete Poetical Works.</span> Illust.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Cowper.</span> Illust. by Birket Foster. Edited by <em>Willmott</em>.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Milton's Poetical Works.</span> Illustrated by Harvey.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Wordsworth's Poetical Works.</span> Illust. by B. Foster.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Southey's Joan of Arc, and Minor Poems.</span> Illust. by Gilbert.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Goldsmith, Johnson, Shenstone, and Smollett.</span> Do.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Kirke White.</span> By <em>Southey</em>. Illustrated by Birket Foster.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Burns.</span> Illustrated by Gilbert.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Thomas Moore's Poems.</span> Illustrated by Corbould.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Byron's Poems.</span> Illustrated by Gilbert, Wolf, &amp;c.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Pope's Poetical Works.</span> Illustrated by Gilbert.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Scott's Poetical Works.</span> With Illustrations.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Herbert's Works.</span> With Illustrations.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Thomas Campbell's Poetical Works.</span> Illust. by Gilbert.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Shakespeare's Complete Works.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Chaucer's Poetical Works.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Willis's Poetical Works.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Golden Gleanings.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Choice Poems and Lyrics.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Shakespeare Gems.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Book of Wit and Humour.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Wise Sayings of the Great and Good.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Montgomery's Poems.</span></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<h3 class="books">Routledge's Two-and-Sixpenny Poets.</h3>
+
+<p class="center fpc"><em>Fcap. 8vo, with Illustrations, in cloth.</em></p>
+
+<table class="books" summary="Routledge's Two-and-Sixpenny Poets">
+<tr>
+<th class="right">s.</th>
+<th class="right">d.</th>
+<th style="width: 100%;">&nbsp;</th>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="right">2</td>
+<td class="right">6</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Longfellow's Complete Poetical Works.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Scott's Poems.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Byron's Poems.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Cowper's Poems.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Wordsworth's Poems.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Burns' Poems.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Moore's Poems.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Milton's Poems.</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Pope's Poems.</span></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+<p class="center fpc"><em>Or bound in a new style, 8 vols., cloth, &pound;1.</em></p>
+
+
+<h3 class="books">Routledge's Pocket Poets.</h3>
+
+<p class="center fpc"><em>18mo, with Portrait.</em></p>
+
+<table class="books" summary="Routledge's Pocket Poets">
+<tr>
+<th class="right">s.</th>
+<th class="right">d.</th>
+<th style="width: 100%;">&nbsp;</th>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="right">1</td>
+<td class="right">0</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Longfellow's Complete Poetical Works.</span> Paper, 1<em>s.</em>; cloth, 1<em>s.</em> 6<em>d.</em></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Burns' Complete Poetical Works.</span> Paper, 1<em>s.</em>; cloth, 1<em>s.</em> 6<em>d.</em></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td>
+<td><span class="smcap">Scott's Poetical Works.</span> Cloth, 1<em>s.</em></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<p class="center" style="margin-top: 60px;">London: THE BROADWAY, LUDGATE HILL.</p>
+<p class="center" style="margin-bottom: 40px;">New York: 416, BROOME STREET.</p>
+
+<p class="center" style="margin-bottom: 80px;">J. OGDEN AND CO., PRINTERS, 172, ST. JOHN STREET E C.</p>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
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@@ -0,0 +1,5190 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Carpenter's Daughter, by
+Anna Bartlett Warner and Susan Bogert Warner
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Carpenter's Daughter
+
+Author: Anna Bartlett Warner
+        Susan Bogert Warner
+
+Release Date: July 13, 2007 [EBook #22061]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CARPENTER'S DAUGHTER ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Marilynda Fraser-Cunliffe, Jana Srna and the
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+(This file was made using scans of public domain works in
+the International Children's Digital Library.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: NETTIE COMFORTS HER MOTHER.]
+
+
+
+
+                           THE
+
+                  CARPENTER'S DAUGHTER.
+
+
+  "Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called
+                  the children of God."
+
+
+   BY THE AUTHORS OF "THE WIDE, WIDE WORLD," ETC. ETC.
+
+
+               WITH COLOURED FRONTISPIECE.
+
+
+                          LONDON:
+                GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS,
+                  THE BROADWAY, LUDGATE.
+
+
+
+
+       BY THE AUTHORS OF "THE WIDE, WIDE WORLD."
+
+  Price ONE SHILLING each, with coloured Frontispiece
+        THE TWO SCHOOLGIRLS.
+        THE CARPENTER'S DAUGHTER.
+        THE PRINCE IN DISGUISE.
+        GERTRUDE AND HER BIBLE.
+        MARTHA AND RACHEL.
+        THE WIDOW AND HER DAUGHTER.
+        THE LITTLE BLACK HEN.
+        THE ROSE IN THE DESERT.
+
+
+
+
+                GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS.
+
+
+ London: Savill, Edwards & Co., Printers, Chandos Street.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+
+CHAP.                                  PAGE
+
+   I. SATURDAY EVENING'S WORK             1
+
+  II. SUNDAY'S REST                      20
+
+ III. NETTIE'S GARRET                    55
+
+  IV. THE BROWN CLOAK IN NOVEMBER        69
+
+   V. THE NEW BLANKET                    82
+
+  VI. THE HOUSE-RAISING                  97
+
+ VII. THE WAFFLES                       112
+
+VIII. THE GOLDEN CITY                   135
+
+
+
+
+THE CARPENTER'S DAUGHTER.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+SATURDAY EVENING'S WORK.
+
+
+Down in a little hollow, with the sides grown full of wild thorn, alder
+bushes, and stunted cedars, ran the stream of a clear spring. It ran
+over a bed of pebbly stones, showing every one as if there had been no
+water there, so clear it was; and it ran with a sweet soft murmur or
+gurgle over the stones, as if singing to itself and the bushes as it
+ran.
+
+On one side of the little stream a worn foot path took its course among
+the bushes; and down this path one summer's afternoon came a woman and a
+girl. They had pails to fill at the spring; the woman had a large wooden
+one, and the girl a light tin pail; and they drew the water with a
+little tin dipper, for it was not deep enough to let a pail be used for
+that. The pails were filled in silence, only the spring always was
+singing; and the woman and the girl turned and went up the path again.
+After getting up the bank, which was only a few feet, the path still
+went gently rising through a wild bit of ground, full of trees and low
+bushes; and not far off, through the trees, there came a gleam of bright
+light from the window of a house, on which the setting sun was shining.
+Half way to the house the girl and the woman stopped to rest; for water
+is heavy, and the tin pail which was so light before it was filled, had
+made the little girl's figure bend over to one side like a willow branch
+all the way from the spring. They stopped to rest, and even the woman
+had a very weary, jaded look.
+
+"I feel as if I shall give up, some of these days," she exclaimed.
+
+"O no, mother!" the little girl answered, cheerfully. She was panting,
+with her hand on her side, and her face had a quiet, very sober look;
+only at those words a little pleasant smile broke over it.
+
+"I shall," said the woman. "One can't stand everything,--for ever."
+
+The little girl had not got over panting yet, but standing there she
+struck up the sweet air and words,--
+
+    "'There is rest for the weary,
+      There is rest for the weary,
+      There is rest for the weary,
+        There is rest for you.'"
+
+"Yes, in the grave!" said the woman, bitterly. "There's no rest short of
+that,--for mind or body."
+
+"O yes, mother dear. 'For we which have believed do enter into rest.'
+Jesus don't make us wait."
+
+"I believe you eat the Bible and sleep on the Bible," said the woman,
+with a faint smile, taking at the same time a corner of her apron to
+wipe away a stray tear which had gathered in her eye. "I am glad it
+rests you, Nettie."
+
+"And you, mother."
+
+"Sometimes," Mrs. Mathieson answered, with a sigh. "But there's your
+father going to bring home a boarder, Nettie."
+
+"A boarder, mother!--What for?"
+
+"Heaven knows!--if it isn't to break my back, and my heart together. I
+thought I had enough to manage before, but here's this man coming, and
+I've got to get everything ready for him by to-morrow night."
+
+"Who is it, mother?"
+
+"It's one of your father's friends; so it's no good," said Mrs.
+Mathieson.
+
+"But where can he sleep?" Nettie asked, after a moment of thinking. Her
+mother paused.
+
+"There's no room but yours he can have. Barry wont be moved."
+
+"Where shall I sleep, mother?"
+
+"There's no place but up in the attic. I'll see what I can do to fit up
+a corner for you--if I ever can get time," said Mrs. Mathieson, taking
+up her pail. Nettie followed her example, and certainly did not smile
+again till they reached the house. They went round to the front door,
+because the back door belonged to another family. At the door, as they
+set down their pails again before mounting the stairs, Nettie smiled at
+her mother very placidly, and said--
+
+"Don't you go to fit up the attic, mother; I'll see to it in time. I can
+do it just as well."
+
+Mrs. Mathieson made no answer but groaned internally, and they went up
+the flight of stairs which led to their part of the house. The ground
+floor was occupied by somebody else. A little entry way at the top of
+the stairs received the wooden pail of water, and with the tin one
+Nettie went into the room used by the family. It was her father and
+mother's sleeping-room, their bed standing in one corner. It was the
+kitchen apparently, for a small cooking-stove was there, on which Nettie
+put the tea-kettle when she had filled it. And it was the common
+living-room also; for the next thing she did was to open a cupboard and
+take out cups and saucers and arrange them on a leaf table which stood
+toward one end of the room. The furniture was wooden and plain; the
+woodwork of the windows was unpainted; the cups and plates were of the
+commonest kind; and the floor had no covering but two strips of rag
+carpeting; nevertheless the whole was tidy and very clean, showing
+constant care. Mrs. Mathieson had sunk into a chair, as one who had no
+spirit to do anything; and watched her little daughter setting the table
+with eyes which seemed not to see her. They gazed inwardly at something
+she was thinking of.
+
+"Mother, what is there for supper?"
+
+"There is nothing. I must make some porridge." And Mrs. Mathieson got up
+from her chair.
+
+"Sit you still, mother, and I'll make it. I can."
+
+"If both our backs are to be broken," said Mrs. Mathieson, "I'd rather
+mine would break first." And she went on with her preparations.
+
+"But you don't like porridge," said Nettie. "You didn't eat anything
+last night."
+
+"That's nothing, child. I can bear an empty stomach, if only my brain
+wasn't quite so full."
+
+Nettie drew near the stove and looked on, a little sorrowfully.
+
+"I wish you had something you liked, mother! If only I was a little
+older, wouldn't it be nice? I could earn something then, and I would
+bring you home things that you liked out of my own money."
+
+This was not said sorrowfully, but with a bright gleam as of some
+fancied and pleasant possibility. The gleam was so catching, Mrs.
+Mathieson turned from her porridge-pot which she was stirring, to give a
+very heartfelt kiss to Nettie's lips; then she stirred on, and the
+shadow came over her face again.
+
+"Dear," she said, "just go in Barry's room and straighten it up a little
+before he comes in--will you? I haven't had a minute to do it, all day;
+and there wont be a bit of peace if he comes in and it isn't in order."
+
+Nettie turned and opened another door, which let her into a small
+chamber used as somebody's bedroom. It was all brown, like the other; a
+strip of the same carpet in the middle of the floor, and a small cheap
+chest of drawers, and a table. The bed had not been made up, and the
+tossed condition of the bedclothes spoke for the strength and energy of
+the person that used them, whoever he was. A pair of coarse shoes were
+in the middle of the whole; another pair, or rather a pair of
+half-boots, out at the toes, were in the middle of the floor; stockings,
+one under the bed and one under the table. On the table was a heap of
+confusion; and on the little bureau were to be seen pieces of wood, half
+cut and uncut, with shavings, and the knife and saw that had made them.
+Old newspapers, and school books, and a slate, and two kites, with no
+end of tail, were lying over every part of the room that happened to be
+convenient; also an ink bottle and pens; with chalk and resin and a
+medley of unimaginable things beside, that only boys can collect
+together and find delight in. If Nettie sighed as all this hurly-burly
+met her eye, it was only an internal sigh. She set about patiently
+bringing things to order. First made the bed, which it took all her
+strength to do: for the coverlets were of a very heavy and coarse
+manufacture of cotton and woollen mixed, blue and white; and then
+gradually found a way to bestow the various articles in Barry's
+apartment, so that things looked neat and comfortable. But perhaps it
+was a little bit of a sign of Nettie's feeling, that she began softly to
+sing to herself,
+
+    "'There is rest for the weary.'"
+
+"Hollo!" burst in a rude boy of some fifteen years, opening the door
+from the entry,--"who's puttin' my room to rights?"
+
+A very gentle voice said, "I've done it, Barry."
+
+"What have you done with that pine log?"
+
+"Here it is,--in the corner behind the bureau."
+
+"Don't you touch it now, to take it for your fire,--mind, Nettie!
+Where's my kite?"
+
+"You wont have time to fly it now, Barry; supper will be ready in two
+minutes."
+
+"What you got?"
+
+"The same kind we had last night."
+
+"_I_ don't care for supper." Barry was getting the tail of his kite
+together.
+
+"But please, Barry, come now; because it will make mother so much more
+trouble if you don't. She has the things to clear away after you're
+done, you know!"
+
+"Trouble! so much talk about trouble! _I_ don't mind trouble. I don't
+want any supper, I tell you."
+
+Nettie knew well enough he would want it by and by, but there was no use
+in saying anything more, and she said nothing. Barry got his kite
+together and went off. Then came a heavier step on the stairs, which she
+knew; and she hastily went into the other room to see that all was
+ready. The tea was made, and Mrs. Mathieson put the smoking dish of
+porridge on the table, just as the door opened and a man came in. A
+tall, burly, strong man, with a face that would have been a good face
+enough if its expression had been different, and if its hue had not been
+that of a purplish-red flush. He came to the table and silently sat down
+as he took a survey of what was on it.
+
+"Give me a cup of tea! Have you got no bread, Sophia?"
+
+"Nothing but what you see. I hoped you would bring home some money, Mr.
+Mathieson. I have neither milk nor bread; it's a mercy there's sugar. I
+don't know what you expect a lodger to live on."
+
+"Live on his board,--that'll give you enough. But you want something to
+begin with. I'd go out and get one or two things--but I'm so confounded
+tired. I can't."
+
+Mrs. Mathieson, without a word, put on a shawl and went to the closet
+for her bonnet.
+
+"I'll go, mother! Let me go, please. I want to go," exclaimed Nettie,
+eagerly. "I can get it. What shall I get, father?"
+
+Slowly and weariedly the mother laid off her things, as quickly the
+child put hers on.
+
+"What shall I get, father?"
+
+"Well, you can go down the street to Jackson's, and get what your mother
+wants: some milk and bread; and then you'd better fetch seven pounds of
+meal and a quart of treacle. And ask him to give you a nice piece of
+pork out of his barrel."
+
+"She can't bring all that!" exclaimed the mother; "you'd better go
+yourself, Mr. Mathieson. That would be a great deal more than the child
+can carry, or I either."
+
+"Then I'll go twice, mother; it isn't far; I'd like to go. I'll get it.
+Please give me the money, father."
+
+He cursed and swore at her, for answer. "Go along, and do as you are
+bid, without all this chaffering! Go to Jackson's and tell him you want
+the things, and I'll give him the money to-morrow. He knows me."
+
+Nettie knew he did, and stood her ground. Her father was just enough in
+liquor to be a little thick-headed and foolish.
+
+"You know I can't go without the money, father," she said, gently; "and
+to-morrow is Sunday."
+
+He cursed Sunday and swore again, but finally put his hand in his pocket
+and threw some money across the table to her. He was just in a state not
+to be careful what he did, and he threw her crown-pieces where if he had
+been quite himself he would have given shillings. Nettie took them
+without any remark, and her basket, and went out.
+
+It was just sundown. The village lay glittering in the light, that would
+be gone in a few minutes; and up on the hill the white church, standing
+high, showed all bright in the sunbeams from its sparkling vane at the
+top of the spire down to the lowest step at the door. Nettie's home was
+in a branch-road, a few steps from the main street of the village that
+led up to the church at one end of it. All along that street the
+sunlight lay, on the grass and the roadway and the sidewalks and the
+tops of a few elm-trees. The street was empty; it was most people's
+supper-time. Nettie turned the corner and went down the village. She
+went slowly; her little feet were already tired with the work they had
+done that day, and back and arms and head all seemed tired too. But
+Nettie never thought it hard that her mother did not go instead of
+letting her go; she knew her mother could not bear to be seen in the
+village in the old shabby gown and shawl she wore; for Mrs. Mathieson
+had seen better days. And besides that, she would be busy enough as it
+was, and till a late hour, this Saturday night. Nettie's gown was shabby
+too; yes, very, compared with that almost every other child in the
+village wore; yet somehow Nettie was not ashamed. She did not think of
+it now, as her slow steps took her down the village street; she was
+thinking what she should do about the money. Her father had given her
+two or three times as much, she knew, as he meant her to spend; he was a
+good workman, and had just got in his week's wages. What should Nettie
+do? Might she keep and give to her mother what was over? it was, and
+would be, so much wanted! and from her father they could never get it
+again. He had his own ways of disposing of what he earned, and very
+little of it indeed went to the wants of his wife and daughter. What
+might Nettie do? She pondered, swinging her basket in her hand, till she
+reached a corner where the village street turned off again, and where
+the store of Mr. Jackson stood. There she found Barry bargaining for
+some things he at least had money for.
+
+"O Barry, how good!" exclaimed Nettie; "you can help me carry my things
+home."
+
+"I'll know the reason first, though," answered Barry. "What are you
+going to get?"
+
+"Father wants a bag of corn meal and a piece of pork and some treacle;
+and you know I can't carry them all, Barry. I've got to get bread and
+milk besides."
+
+"Hurra!" said Barry, "now we'll have fried cakes! I'll tell you what
+I'll do, Nettie--I'll take home the treacle, if you'll make me some
+to-night for supper."
+
+"O I can't, Barry! I've got so much else to do, and it's Saturday
+night."
+
+"Very good--get your things home yourself then."
+
+Barry turned away, and Nettie made her bargains. He still stood by
+however and watched her. When the pork and the meal and the treacle were
+bestowed in the basket, it was so heavy she could not manage to carry
+it. How many journeys to and fro would it cost her?
+
+"Barry," she said, "you take this home for me, and if mother says so,
+I'll make you the cakes."
+
+"Be quick then," said her brother, shouldering the basket, "for I'm
+getting hungry."
+
+Nettie went a few steps further on the main road of the village, which
+was little besides one long street and not very long either; and went in
+at the door of a very little dwelling, neat and tidy like all the rest.
+It admitted her to the tiniest morsel of a shop--at least there was a
+long table there which seemed to do duty as a counter; and before, not
+behind, it sat a spruce little woman sewing. She jumped up as Nettie
+entered. By the becoming smartness of her calico dress and white collar,
+the beautiful order of her hair, and a certain peculiarity of feature,
+you might know before she spoke that the little baker was a Frenchwoman.
+She spoke English quite well, though not so fast as she spoke her own
+tongue.
+
+"I want two loaves of bread, Mrs. August; and a pint of milk, if you
+please."
+
+"How will you carry them, my child? you cannot take them all at the
+time."
+
+"O yes, I can," said Nettie, cheerfully. "I can manage. They are not
+heavy."
+
+"No, I hope not," said the Frenchwoman; "it is not heavy, my bread! but
+two loaves are not one, no more. Is your mother well?"
+
+She then set busily about wrapping the loaves in paper and measuring out
+the milk. Nettie answered her mother was well.
+
+"And you?" said the little woman, looking at her sideways. "Somebody is
+tired this evening."
+
+"Yes," said Nettie, brightly; "but I don't mind. One must be tired
+sometimes. Thank you, ma'am."
+
+The woman had put the loaves and the milk carefully in her arms and in
+her hand, so that she could carry them, and looked after her as she went
+up the street.
+
+"One must be tired sometimes!" said she to herself, with a turn of her
+capable little head. "I should like to hear her say 'One must be rested
+sometimes;' but I do not hear that."
+
+So perhaps Nettie thought, as she went homeward. It would have been very
+natural. Now the sun was down, the bright gleam was off the village; the
+soft shades of evening were gathering and lights twinkled in windows.
+Nettie walked very slowly, her arms full of the bread. Perhaps she
+wished her Saturday's work was all done, like other people's. All I can
+tell you is, that as she went along through the quiet deserted street,
+all alone, she broke out softly singing to herself the words,
+
+    "No need of the sun in that day
+     Which never is followed by night."
+
+And that when she got home she ran up stairs quite briskly, and came in
+with a very placid face; and told her mother she had had a pleasant
+walk--which was perfectly true.
+
+"I'm glad, dear," said her mother, with a sigh. "What made it pleasant?"
+
+"Why, mother," said Nettie, "Jesus was with me all the way."
+
+"God bless you, child!" said her mother; "you are the very rose of my
+heart!"
+
+There was only time for this little dialogue, for which Mr. Mathieson's
+slumbers had given a chance. But then Barry entered, and noisily claimed
+Nettie's promise. And without a cloud crossing her sweet brow, she made
+the cakes, and baked them on the stove, and served Barry until he had
+enough; nor ever said how weary she was of being on her feet. There
+were some cakes left, and Mrs. Mathieson saw to it that Nettie sat down
+and ate them; and then sent her off to bed without suffering her to do
+anything more; though Nettie pleaded to be allowed to clear away the
+dishes. Mrs. Mathieson did that; and then sat down to make darns and
+patches on various articles of clothing, till the old clock of the
+church on the hill tolled out solemnly the hour of twelve all over the
+village.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+SUNDAY'S REST.
+
+
+Nettie's room was the only room on that floor besides her mother's and
+Barry's. It was at the back of the house, with a pleasant look-out over
+the trees and bushes between it and the spring. Over these the view went
+to distant hills and fields, that always looked pretty in all sorts of
+lights, Nettie thought. Besides that, it was a clean, neat little room;
+bare to be sure, without even Barry's strip of rag carpet; but on a
+little black table lay Nettie's Bible and Sunday-school books; and each
+window had a chair; and a chest of drawers held all her little wardrobe
+and a great deal of room to spare besides; and the cot-bed in one corner
+was nicely made up. It was a very comfortable-looking room to Nettie.
+
+"So this is the last night I shall sleep here!" she thought as she went
+in. "To-morrow I must go up to the attic. Well,--I can pray there just
+the same; and God will be with me there just the same."
+
+It was a comfort; but it was the only one Nettie could think of in
+connexion with her removal. The attic was no room, but only a little
+garret used as a lumber place; not boarded up, nor plastered at all;
+nothing but the beams and the side-boarding for the walls, and nothing
+but the rafters and the shingles between it and the sky. Besides which,
+it was full of lumber of one sort and another. How Nettie was to move up
+there the next day, being Sunday, she could not imagine; but she was so
+tired that as soon as her head touched her pillow she fell fast asleep,
+and forgot to think about it.
+
+The next thing was the bright morning light rousing her, and the joyful
+thought that it was Sunday morning. A beautiful day it was. The eastern
+light was shining over upon Nettie's distant hills, with all sorts of
+fresh lovely colours and promise of what the coming hours would bring.
+Nettie looked at them lovingly, for she was very fond of them and had a
+great many thoughts about those hills. "As the mountains are round about
+Jerusalem, so the Lord is round about his people;"--that was one thing
+they made her think of. She thought of it now as she was dressing, and
+it gave her the feeling of being surrounded with a mighty and strong
+protection on every side. It made Nettie's heart curiously glad, and her
+tongue speak of joyful things; for when she knelt down to pray she was
+full of thanksgiving.
+
+The next thing was, that taking her tin pail Nettie set off down to the
+spring to get water to boil the kettle. It was so sweet and pleasant--no
+other spring could supply nicer water. The dew brushed from the bushes
+and grass as she went by; and from every green thing there went up a
+fresh dewy smell that was reviving. The breath of the summer wind,
+moving gently, touched her cheek and fluttered her hair, and said God
+had given a beautiful day to the world; and Nettie thanked him in her
+heart and went on rejoicing. Sunday was Nettie's holiday, and
+Sunday-school and church were her delight. And though she went in all
+weathers, and nothing would keep her, yet sunshine is sunshine; and she
+felt so this morning. So she gaily filled her pail at the spring and
+trudged back with it to the house. The next thing was to tap at her
+mother's door.
+
+Mrs. Mathieson opened it, in her nightgown; she was just up, and looked
+as if her night's sleep had been all too short for her.
+
+"Why, Nettie!--is it late?" she said, as Nettie and the tin pail came
+in.
+
+"No, mother; it's just good time. You get dressed, and I'll make the
+fire ready. It's beautiful out, mother."
+
+Mrs. Mathieson made no answer, and Nettie went to work with the fire. It
+was an easy matter to put in some paper and kindle the light wood; and
+when the kettle was on, Nettie went round the room softly setting it to
+rights as well as she could. Then glanced at her father, still sleeping.
+
+"I can't set the table yet, mother."
+
+"No, child; go off, and I'll see to the rest. If I can get folks up, at
+least," said Mrs. Mathieson, somewhat despondingly. Sunday morning that
+was a doubtful business, she and Nettie knew. Nettie went to her own
+room to carry out a plan she had. If she could manage to get her things
+conveyed up to the attic without her mother knowing it, just so much
+labour and trouble would be spared her, and her mother might have a
+better chance of some rest that day. Little enough, with a lodger coming
+that evening! To get her things up there,--that was all Nettie would do
+to-day; but that must be done. The steep stairs to the attic went up
+from the entry way, just outside of Nettie's door. She went up the first
+time to see what place there was to bestow anything.
+
+The little garret was strewn all over with things carelessly thrown in,
+merely to get them out of the way. There was a small shutter window in
+each gable. One was open, just revealing the utter confusion; but
+half-showing the dust that lay on everything. The other window, the back
+one, was fairly shut up by a great heap of boxes and barrels piled
+against it. In no part was there a clear space, or a hopeful opening.
+Nettie stood aghast for some moments, not knowing what to do. "But if I
+don't, mother will have to," she thought. It nerved her little arm, and
+one thought of her invisible protection nerved her heart, which had sunk
+at first coming up. Softly she moved and began her operations, lest her
+mother down stairs should hear and find out what she was about before it
+was done. Sunday too! But there was no help for it.
+
+Notwithstanding the pile of boxes, she resolved to begin at the end with
+the closed window; for near the other there were things she could not
+move: an old stove, a wheelbarrow, a box of heavy iron tools, and some
+bags of charcoal and other matters. By a little pushing and coaxing,
+Nettie made a place for the boxes, and then began her task of removing
+them. One by one, painfully, for some were unwieldy and some were
+weighty, they travelled across in Nettie's arms, or were shoved, or
+turned over and over across the floor, from the window to a snug
+position under the eaves where she stowed them. Barry would have been a
+good hand at this business, not to speak of his father: but Nettie knew
+there was no help to be had from either of them; and the very thought of
+them did not come into her head. Mr. Mathieson, provided he worked at
+his trade, thought the "women-folks" might look after the house; Barry
+considered that when he had got through the heavy labours of school, he
+had done his part of the world's work. So Nettie toiled on with her
+boxes and barrels. They scratched her arms; they covered her clean face
+with dust; they tried her strength; but every effort saved one to her
+mother, and Nettie never stopped except to gather breath and rest.
+
+The last thing of all under the window was a great old chest. Nettie
+could not move it, and she concluded it might stay there very
+conveniently for a seat. All the rest of the pile she cleared away, and
+then opened the window. There was no sash; nothing but a wooden shutter
+fastened with a hook. Nettie threw it open. There, to her great joy,
+behold she had the very same view of her hills, all shining in the sun
+now. Only this window was higher than her old one, and lifted her up
+more above the tops of the trees, and gave a better and clearer and
+wider view of the distant open country she liked so much. Nettie was
+greatly delighted, and refreshed herself with a good look out and a
+breath of fresh air before she began her labours again. That gave the
+dust a little chance to settle, too.
+
+There was a good deal to do yet before she could have a place clear for
+her bed, not to speak of anything more. However, it was done at last;
+the floor brushed up, all ready, and the top of the chest wiped clean;
+and next Nettie set about bringing all her things up the stairs and
+setting them here, where she could. Her clothes, her little bit of a
+looking-glass, her Bible and books and slate, even her little washstand,
+she managed to lug up to the attic; with many a journey and much pains.
+But it was about done, before her mother called her to breakfast. The
+two lagging members of the family had been roused at last, and were
+seated at the table.
+
+"Why, what have you been doing, child? how you look!" said Mrs.
+Mathieson.
+
+"How do I look?" said Nettie.
+
+"Queer enough," said her father.
+
+Nettie laughed, and hastened to another subject; she knew if they got
+upon this there would be some disagreeable words before it was over. She
+had made up her mind what to do, and now handed her father the money
+remaining from her purchases. "You gave me too much, father, last
+night," she said, simply; "here is the rest." Mr. Mathieson took it and
+looked at it.
+
+"Did I give you all this?"
+
+"Yes, father."
+
+"Did you pay for what you got, besides?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+He muttered something which was very like an oath in his throat, and
+looked at his little daughter, who was quietly eating her breakfast.
+Something touched him unwontedly.
+
+"You're an honest little girl!" he said. "There! you may have that for
+yourself;" and he tossed her a shilling.
+
+You could see, by a little streak of pink colour down each of Nettie's
+cheeks, that some great thought of pleasure had started into her mind.
+"For myself, father?" she repeated.
+
+"All for yourself," said Mr. Mathieson, buttoning up his money with a
+very satisfied air. Nettie said no more, only ate her breakfast a little
+quicker after that. It was time, too; for the late hours of some of the
+family always made her in a hurry about getting to Sunday-school; and
+the minute Nettie had done, she got her bonnet, her Sunday bonnet--the
+best she had to wear--and set off. Mrs. Mathieson never let her wait for
+anything at home _that_ morning.
+
+This was Nettie's happy time. It never troubled her, that she had
+nothing but a sun-bonnet of white muslin, nicely starched and ironed,
+while almost all the other girls that came to the school had little
+straw bonnets trimmed with blue and pink and yellow and green ribbons;
+and some of them wore silk bonnets. Nettie did not even think of it; she
+loved her Sunday lesson, and her Bible, and her teacher, so much; and
+it was such a good time when she went to enjoy them all together. There
+was only a little way she had to go; for the road where Mrs. Mathieson
+lived, after running down a little further from the village, met another
+road which turned right up the hill to the church; or Nettie could take
+the other way, to the main village street, and straight up that.
+Generally she chose the forked way, because it was the emptiest.
+
+Nettie's class in the Sunday-school was of ten little girls about her
+own age; and their teacher was a very pleasant and kind gentleman, named
+Mr. Folke. Nettie loved him dearly; she would do anything that Mr. Folke
+told her to do. Their teacher was very apt to give the children a
+question to answer from the Bible; for which they had to look out texts
+during the week. This week the question was, "Who are happy?" and Nettie
+was very eager to know what answers the other girls would bring. She was
+in good time, and sat resting and watching the boys and girls and
+teachers as they came in, before the school began. She was first there
+of all her class; and watching so eagerly to see those who were coming,
+that she did not know Mr. Folke was near till he spoke to her. Nettie
+started and turned.
+
+"How do you do?" said her teacher, kindly. "Are you quite well, Nettie,
+this morning?" For he thought she looked pale and tired. But her face
+coloured with pleasure and a smile shone all over it, as she told him
+she was very well.
+
+"Have you found out who are the happy people, Nettie?"
+
+"Yes, Mr. Folke; I have found a verse. But I knew before."
+
+"I thought you did. Who are they, Nettie?"
+
+"Those that love Jesus, sir."
+
+"Ay. In the Christian armour, you know, the feet are 'shod with the
+preparation of the Gospel of peace.' With the love of Jesus in our
+hearts, our feet can go over very rough ways and hardly feel that they
+are rough. Do you find it so?"
+
+"O yes, sir!"
+
+He said no more, for others of the class now came up; and Nettie
+wondered how he knew, or if he knew, that she had a rough way to go
+over. But his words were a help and comfort to her. So was the whole
+lesson that day. The verses about the happy people were beautiful. The
+seven girls who sat on one side of Nettie repeated the blessings told of
+in the fifth chapter of Matthew, about the poor in spirit, the mourners,
+the meek, those that hunger and thirst after righteousness, the
+merciful, the pure in heart, and the peacemakers. Then came Nettie's
+verse. It was this:
+
+"Happy is he that hath the God of Jacob for his help, whose hope is in
+the Lord his God."
+
+The next girl gave the words of Jesus, "If ye know these things, happy
+are ye if ye do them."
+
+The last gave, "Blessed is he whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin
+is covered."
+
+Then came Mr. Folke's verse, and Nettie thought it was the most
+beautiful of all. "Blessed are they that do his commandments, that they
+may have right to the tree of life, and may enter in through the gates
+into the city."
+
+Then Mr. Folke talked about that city; its streets of gold, and the
+gates of pearl, through which nothing that defileth can by any means
+enter. He told how Jesus will make his people happy there; how they will
+be with him, and all their tears wiped away. And Jesus will be their
+Shepherd; his sheep will not wander from him anymore; "and they shall
+see his face, and his name shall be in their foreheads." Nettie could
+hardly keep from crying as Mr. Folke went on; she felt as if she was
+half in heaven already, and it seemed very odd to cry for gladness; but
+she could not help it. Then the school closed with singing the hymn,
+
+    "O how happy are they
+     Who the Saviour obey,
+     And have laid up their treasures above."
+
+From school they went to church, of course. A strange minister preached
+that day, and Nettie could not understand him always; but the words of
+the hymn and Mr. Folke's words ran in her head then, and she was very
+happy all church time. And as she was walking home, still the tune and
+the words ran in her ears,
+
+    "Jesus all the day long
+     Is my joy and my song;
+        O that all his salvation might see!"
+
+So, thinking busily, Nettie got home and ran up stairs. What a change!
+It looked like a place very, very far from those gates of pearl.
+
+Her mother sat on one side of the stove, not dressed for church, and
+leaning her head on her hand. Mr. Mathieson was on the other side,
+talking and angry. Barry stood back, playing ball by himself by throwing
+it up and catching it again. The talk stopped at Nettie's entrance. She
+threw off her bonnet and began to set the table, hoping that would bring
+peace.
+
+"Your father don't want any dinner," said Mrs. Mathieson.
+
+"Yes I do!"--thundered her husband; "but I tell you I'll take anything
+now; so leave your cooking till supper--when Lumber will be here. Go
+on, child! and get your work done."
+
+There were no preparations for dinner, and Nettie was at a loss; and did
+not like to say anything for fear of bringing on a storm. Her mother
+looked both weary and out of temper. The kettle was boiling,--the only
+thing about the room that had a pleasant seeming.
+
+"Will you have a cup of tea, father?" said Nettie.
+
+"Anything you like--yes, a cup of tea will do; and hark'ye, child, I
+want a good stout supper got this afternoon. Your mother don't choose to
+hear me. Mr. Lumber is coming, and I want a good supper to make him
+think he's got to the right place. Do you hear, Nettie?"
+
+"Yes, father."
+
+Nettie went on to do the best she could. She warmed the remains of last
+night's porridge and gave it to Barry with treacle, to keep him quiet.
+Meanwhile she had made the tea, and toasted a slice of bread very
+nicely, though with great pains, for the fire wasn't good; and the
+toast and a cup of tea she gave to her father. He eat it with an
+eagerness which let Nettie know she must make another slice as fast as
+possible.
+
+"Hollo! Nettie--I say, give us some of that, will you?" said Barry,
+finding his porridge poor in taste.
+
+"Barry, there isn't bread enough--I can't," whispered Nettie. "We've got
+to keep a loaf for supper."
+
+"Eat what you've got, or let it alone!" thundered Mr. Mathieson, in the
+way he had when he was out of patience, and which always tried Nettie
+exceedingly.
+
+"She's got more," said Barry. "She's toasting two pieces this minute. I
+want one."
+
+"I'll knock you over, if you say another word," said his father. Nettie
+was frightened, for she saw he meant to have the whole, and she had
+destined a bit for her mother. However, when she gave her father his
+second slice, she ventured, and took the other with a cup of tea to the
+forlorn figure on the other side of the stove. Mrs. Mathieson took only
+the tea. But Mr. Mathieson's ire was roused afresh. Perhaps toast and
+tea didn't agree with him.
+
+"Have you got all ready for Mr. Lumber?" he said, in a tone of voice
+very unwilling to be pleased.
+
+"No," said his wife,--"I have had no chance. I have been cooking and
+clearing up all the morning. His room isn't ready."
+
+"Well, you had better get it ready pretty quick. What's to do?"
+
+"Everything's to do," said Mrs. Mathieson.
+
+He swore at her. "Why can't you answer a plain question? I say, _what's_
+to do?"
+
+"There's all Nettie's things in the room at present. They are all to
+move up stairs, and the red bedstead to bring down."
+
+"No, mother," said Nettie, gently,--"all my things are up stairs
+already;--there's only the cot and the bed, that I couldn't move."
+
+Mrs. Mathieson gave no outward sign of the mixed feeling of pain and
+pleasure that shot through her heart. Pleasure at her child's thoughtful
+love, pain that she should have to show it in such a way.
+
+"When did you do it, Nettie?"
+
+"This morning before breakfast, mother. It's all ready, father, if you
+or Barry would take up my cot and the bed, and bring down the other
+bedstead. It's too heavy for me."
+
+"That's what I call doing business and having some spirit," said her
+father. "Not sitting and letting your work come to you. Here,
+Nettie--I'll do the rest for you."
+
+Nettie ran with him to show him what was wanted; and Mr. Mathieson's
+strong arms had it all done very quickly. Nettie eagerly thanked him;
+and then seeing him in good-humour with her, she ventured something
+more.
+
+"Mother's very tired to-day, father," she whispered; "she'll feel better
+by and by if she has a little rest. Do you think you would mind helping
+me put up this bedstead?"
+
+"Well, here goes!" said Mr. Mathieson. "Which piece belongs here, to
+begin with?"
+
+Nettie did not know much better than he; but putting not only her whole
+mind but also her whole heart into it, she managed to find out and
+direct him successfully. Her part was hard work; she had to stand
+holding up the heavy end of the bedstead while her father fitted in the
+long pieces; and then she helped him to lace the cords, which had to be
+drawn very tight; and precious time was running away fast, and Nettie
+had had no dinner. But she stood patiently, with a thought in her heart
+which kept her in peace all the while. When it was done, Mr. Mathieson
+went out; and Nettie returned to her mother. She was sitting where she
+had left her. Barry was gone.
+
+"Mother, wont you have something to eat?"
+
+"I can't eat, child. Have you had anything yourself?"
+
+Nettie had seized a remnant of her father's toast, and was munching it
+hastily.
+
+"Mother, wont you put on your gown and come to church this afternoon?
+Do! It will rest you. Do, mother!"
+
+"You forget I've got to get supper, child. Your father doesn't think it
+necessary that anybody should rest, or go to church, or do anything
+except work. What he is thinking of, I am sure I don't know. There is no
+place to eat in but this room, and he is going to bring a stranger into
+it; and if I was dying I should have to get up for every meal that is
+wanted. I never thought I should come to live so! And I cannot dress
+myself, or prepare the victuals, or have a moment to myself, but I have
+the chance of Mr. Lumber and your father in here to look on! It is worse
+than a dog's life!"
+
+It looked pretty bad, Nettie thought. She did not know what to say. She
+began clearing away the things on the table.
+
+"And what sort of a man this Mr. Lumber is, I don't know. I dare say he
+is like his name--one of your father's cronies--a drinker and a swearer.
+And Mr. Mathieson will bring him here, to be on my hands! It will kill
+me before spring, if it lasts."
+
+"Couldn't there be a bed made somewhere else for Barry, mother? and then
+we could eat in there."
+
+"Where would you make it? I could curtain off a corner of this room, but
+Barry wouldn't have it, nor your father; and they'd all want to be
+close to the fire the minute the weather grows the least bit cool.
+No--there is nothing for me, but to live on till Death calls for me!"
+
+"Mother--Jesus said, 'He that liveth and believeth in me shall never
+die.'"
+
+"O yes!" said Mrs. Mathieson, with a kind of long-drawn groan, "I don't
+know how it will be about that! I get so put about, now in these times,
+that it seems to me I don't know my own soul!"
+
+"Mother, come to church this afternoon."
+
+"I can't, child. I've got to put up that man's bed and make it."
+
+"That is all done, mother, and the floor brushed up. Do come!"
+
+"Why, who put it up?"
+
+"Father and I."
+
+"Well! you do beat all, Nettie. But I can't, child; I haven't time."
+
+"Yes, mother, plenty. There's all the hour of Sunday-school before
+church begins. Now do, mother!"
+
+"Well--you go off to school; and if I can, maybe I will. You go right
+off, Nettie."
+
+Nettie went, feeling weary and empty by dint of hard work and a dinner
+of a small bit of dry toast. But she thought little about that. She
+wanted to ask Mr. Folke a question.
+
+The lesson that afternoon was upon the peacemakers; and Mr. Folke asked
+the children what ways they knew of being a peacemaker? The answer
+somehow was not very ready.
+
+"Isn't it to stop people from quarrelling?" one child asked.
+
+"How can you do that, Kizzy?"
+
+Kizzy seemed doubtful. "I could ask them to stop," she said.
+
+"Well, suppose you did. Would angry people mind your asking?"
+
+"I don't know, sir. If they were very angry, I suppose they wouldn't."
+
+"Perhaps not. One thing is certain, Kizzy; you must have peace in your
+own heart, to give you the least chance."
+
+"How, Mr. Folke?"
+
+"If you want to put out a fire, you must not stick into it something
+that will catch?"
+
+"That would make the fire worse," said one of the girls.
+
+"Certainly. So if you want to touch quarrelsome spirits with the least
+hope of softening them, you must be so full of the love of Jesus
+yourself that nothing but love can come out of your own spirit. You see
+it means a good deal, to be a peacemaker."
+
+"I always thought that must be one of the easiest things of the whole
+lot," said one of the class.
+
+"You wont find it so, I think; or rather you will find they are all
+parts of the same character, and the blessing is one. But there are more
+ways of being a peacemaker. What do you do when the hinge of a door
+creaks?"
+
+One said "she didn't know;" another said "Nothing." "I stop my ears,"
+said a third. Mr. Folke laughed.
+
+"_That_ would not do for a peacemaker," he said. "Don't you know what
+makes machinery work smoothly?"
+
+"Oil!" cried Kizzy.
+
+"Oil to be sure. One little drop of oil will stop ever so much creaking
+and groaning and complaining, of hinges and wheels and all sorts of
+machines. Now, peoples' tempers are like wheels and hinges--but what
+sort of oil shall we use?"
+
+The girls looked at each other, and then one of them said, "Kindness."
+
+"To be sure! A gentle word, a look of love, a little bit of kindness,
+will smooth down a roughened temper or a wry face, and soften a hard
+piece of work, and make all go easily. And so of reproving sinners. The
+Psalmist says, 'Let the righteous smite me; it shall be a kindness: and
+let him reprove me; it shall be an excellent oil, which shall not break
+my head.' But you see the peacemaker must be righteous himself, or he
+hasn't the oil. Love is the oil; the love of Jesus."
+
+"Mr. Folke," said Nettie, timidly, "wasn't Jesus a peacemaker?"
+
+"The greatest that ever lived!" said Mr. Folke, his eyes lighting up
+with pleasure at her question. "He made all the peace there is in the
+world, for he bought it, when he died on the cross to reconcile man with
+God. All our drops of oil were bought with drops of blood."
+
+"And," said Nettie, hesitatingly, "Mr. Folke, isn't that one way of
+being a peacemaker?"
+
+"What?"
+
+"I mean, to persuade people to be at peace with him?"
+
+"That is the way above all others, my child; that is truly to be the
+'children of God.' Jesus came and preached peace; and that is what his
+servants are doing, and will do, till he comes. And 'they shall be
+called the children of God.' 'Beloved, if God so loved us, we ought also
+to love one another.'"
+
+Mr. Folke paused, with a face so full of thought, of eagerness, and of
+love, that none of the children spoke and some of them wondered. And
+before Mr. Folke spoke again the superintendent's little bell rang; and
+they all stood up to sing. But Nettie Mathieson hardly could sing; it
+seemed to her so glorious a thing to be _that_ sort of a peacemaker.
+Could she be one? But the Lord blessed the peacemakers; then it must be
+his will that all his children should be such; then he would enable her
+to be one! It was a great thought. Nettie's heart swelled, with hope
+and joy and prayer. She knew whose peace she longed for, first of all.
+
+Her mother had now come to church; so Nettie enjoyed all the services
+with nothing to hinder. Then they walked home together, not speaking
+much to each other, but every step of the way pleasant in the Sunday
+afternoon light, till they got to their own door. Nettie knew what her
+mother's sigh meant, as they mounted the stairs. Happily, nobody was at
+home yet but themselves.
+
+"Now, mother," said Nettie, when she had changed her dress and come to
+the common room,--"what's to be for supper? I'll get it. You sit still
+and read, if you want to, while it's quiet. What must we have?"
+
+"There is not a great deal to do," said Mrs. Mathieson. "I boiled the
+pork this morning, and that was what set your father up so; that's
+ready; and he says there must be cakes. The potatoes are all ready to
+put down--I was going to boil 'em this morning, and he stopped me."
+
+Nettie looked grave about the cakes. "However, mother," she said, "I
+don't believe that little loaf of bread would last, even if you and I
+didn't touch it; it is not very big."
+
+Mrs. Mathieson wearily sat down and took her Testament, as Nettie begged
+her; and Nettie put on the kettle and the pot of potatoes, and made the
+cakes ready to bake. The table was set, and the treacle and everything
+on it, except the hot things, when Barry burst in.
+
+"Hollo, cakes!--hollo, treacle!" he shouted. "Pork and treacle--that's
+the right sort of thing. Now we're going to live something like."
+
+"Hush, Barry, don't make such a noise," said his sister. "You know it's
+Sunday evening."
+
+"Sunday! well, what about Sunday? What's Sunday good for, except to eat,
+I should like to know?"
+
+"O Barry!"
+
+"O Barry!" said he, mimicking her. "Come, shut up, and fry your cake.
+Father and Lumber will be here just now."
+
+Nettie hushed, as she was bade; and as soon as her father's step was
+heard below, she went to frying cakes with all her might. She just
+turned her head to give one look at Mr. Lumber as he came in. He
+appeared to her very like her father, but without the recommendation
+which her affection gave to Mr. Mathieson. A big, strong, burly fellow,
+with the same tinges of red about his face, that the summer sun had
+never brought there. Nettie did not want to look again.
+
+She had a good specimen this evening of what they might expect in
+future. Mrs. Mathieson poured out the tea, and Nettie baked the cakes;
+and perhaps because she was almost faint for want of something to eat,
+she thought no three people ever ate so many griddle cakes before at one
+meal. In vain plateful after plateful went upon the board, and Nettie
+baked them as fast as she could; they were eaten just as fast; and when
+finally the chairs were pushed back, and the men went down stairs,
+Nettie and her mother looked at each other.
+
+"There's only one left, mother," said Nettie.
+
+"And he has eaten certainly half the piece of pork," said Mrs.
+Mathieson. "Come, child, take something yourself; you're ready to drop.
+I'll clear away."
+
+But it is beyond the power of any disturbance to take away the gladness
+of a heart where Jesus is. Nettie's bread was sweet to her, even that
+evening. Before she had well finished her supper, her father and his
+lodger came back. They sat down on either side the fire and began to
+talk,--of politics, and of their work on which they were then engaged,
+with their employers and their fellow-workmen; of the state of business
+in the village, and profits and losses, and the success of particular
+men in making money. They talked loudly and eagerly; and Nettie had to
+go round and round them, to get to the fire for hot water and back to
+the table to wash up the cups and plates. Her mother was helping at the
+table, but to get round Mr. Lumber to the pot of hot water on the fire
+every now and then, fell to Nettie's share. It was not a very nice
+ending of her sweet Sabbath day, she thought. The dishes were done and
+put away, and still the talk went on as hard as ever. It was sometimes
+a pleasure to Nettie's father to hear her sing hymns of a Sunday
+evening. Nettie watched for a chance, and the first time there was a
+lull of the voices of the two men, she asked, softly, "Shall I sing,
+father?" Mr. Mathieson hesitated, and then answered, "No, better not,
+Nettie; Mr. Lumber might not find it amusing;" and the talk began again.
+Nettie waited a little longer, feeling exceedingly tired; then she rose
+and lit a candle.
+
+"What are you doing, Nettie?" her mother said.
+
+"I am going to bed, mother."
+
+"You can't take a candle up there, child! the attic's all full of
+things, and you'd certainly set us on fire."
+
+"I'll take great care, mother."
+
+"But you can't, child! The wind might blow the snuff of your candle
+right into something that would be all a flame by the time you're
+asleep. You must manage without a light somehow."
+
+"But I can't see to find my way," said Nettie, who was secretly
+trembling with fear.
+
+"I'll light you then, for once, and you'll soon learn the way. Give me
+the candle."
+
+Nettie hushed the words that came crowding into her mouth, and clambered
+up the steep stairs to the attic. Mrs. Mathieson followed her with the
+candle till she got to the top, and there she held it till Nettie had
+found her way to the other end where her bed was. Then she said
+good-night and went down.
+
+The little square shutter of the window was open, and a ray of moonlight
+streamed in upon the bed. It was nicely made up; Nettie saw that her
+mother had been there and had done that for her and wrought a little
+more space and order among the things around the bed. But the moonlight
+did not get in far enough to show much more. Just a little of this thing
+and of that could be seen; a corner of a chest, or a gleam on the side
+of a meal bag; the half light showed nothing clearly except the confused
+fulness of the little attic. Nettie had given her head a blow against a
+piece of timber as she came through it; and she sat down upon her
+little bed, feeling rather miserable. Her fear was that the rats might
+visit her up there. She did not certainly know that there were rats in
+the attic, but she had been fearing to think of them and did not dare to
+ask; as well as unwilling to give trouble to her mother; for if they
+_did_ come there, Nettie did not see how the matter could be mended. She
+sat down on her little bed, so much frightened that she forgot how tired
+she was. Her ears were as sharp as needles, listening to hear the scrape
+of a rat's tooth upon a timber or the patter of his feet over the floor.
+
+For a few minutes Nettie almost thought she could not sleep up there
+alone, and must go down and implore her mother to let her spread her bed
+in a corner of her room. But what a bustle that would make. Her mother
+would be troubled, and her father would be angry, and the lodger would
+be disturbed, and there was no telling how much harm would come of it.
+No; the peacemaker of the family must not do that. And then the words
+floated into Nettie's mind again, "Blessed are the peacemakers, for they
+shall be called the children of God." Like a strain of the sweetest
+music it floated in; and if an angel had come and brought the words
+straight to Nettie, she could not have been more comforted. She felt the
+rats could not hurt her while she was within hearing of that music; and
+she got up and kneeled down upon the chest under the little window and
+looked out.
+
+It was like the day that had passed; not like the evening. So purely and
+softly the moonbeams lay on all the fields and trees and hills, there
+was no sign of anything but peace and purity to be seen. No noise of
+men's work or voices; no clangour of the iron foundry which on weekdays
+might be heard; no sight of anything unlovely; but the wide beauty which
+God had made, and the still peace and light which he had spread over it.
+Every little flapping leaf seemed to Nettie to tell of its Maker; and
+the music of those words seemed to be all through the still
+air--"Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the children
+of God." Tears of gladness and hope slowly gathered in Nettie's eyes.
+The children of God will enter in, by and by, through those pearly
+gates, into that city of gold,--"where they need no candle, neither
+light of the sun, for the Lord God giveth them light." "So he can give
+me light here--or what's better than light," thought Nettie. "God isn't
+only out there, in all that beautiful moonlight world--he is here in my
+poor little attic too; and he will take just as good care of me as he
+does of the birds, and better, for I am his child, and they are only his
+beautiful little servants."
+
+Nettie's fear was gone. She prayed her evening prayer; she trusted
+herself to the Lord Jesus to take care of her; and then she undressed
+herself and lay down and went to sleep, just as quietly as any sparrow
+of them all with its head under its wing.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+NETTIE'S GARRET.
+
+
+Nettie's attic grew to be a good place to her. She never heard the least
+sound of rats; and it was so nicely out of the way. Barry never came up
+there, and there she could not even hear the voices of her father and
+Mr. Lumber. She had a tired time of it down stairs.
+
+That first afternoon was a good specimen of the way things went on.
+Nettie's mornings were always spent at school; Mrs. Mathieson would have
+that, as she said, whether she could get along without Nettie or no.
+From the time Nettie got home till she went to bed, she was as busy as
+she could be. There was so much bread to make, and so much beef and pork
+to boil, and so much washing of pots and kettles; and at meal times
+there were very often cakes to fry, besides all the other preparations.
+Mr. Mathieson seemed to have made up his mind that his lodger's rent
+should all go to the table and be eaten up immediately; but the
+difficulty was to make as much as he expected of it in that line; for
+now he brought none of his own earnings home, and Mrs. Mathieson had
+more than a sad guess where they went. By degrees he came to be very
+little at home in the evenings, and he carried off Barry with him.
+Nettie saw her mother burdened with a great outward and inward care at
+once, and stood in the breach all she could. She worked to the extent of
+her strength, and beyond it, in the endless getting and clearing away of
+meals; and watching every chance, when the men were out of the way, she
+would coax her mother to sit down and read a chapter in her Testament.
+"It will rest you so, mother," Nettie would say; "and I will make the
+bread just as soon as I get the dishes done. Do let me! I like to do
+it."
+
+Sometimes Mrs. Mathieson could not be persuaded; sometimes she would
+yield, in a despondent kind of way, and sit down with her Testament and
+look at it as if neither there nor anywhere else in the universe could
+she find rest or comfort any more.
+
+"It don't signify, child," she said, one afternoon when Nettie had been
+urging her to sit down and read. "I haven't the heart to do anything.
+We're all driving to rack and ruin just as fast as we can go."
+
+"Oh no, mother!" said Nettie. "I don't think we are."
+
+"I am sure of it. I see it coming every day. Every day it is a little
+worse; and Barry is going along with your father; and they are
+destroying me among them, body and soul too."
+
+"No, mother," said Nettie, "I don't think that. I have prayed the Lord
+Jesus, and you know he has promised to hear prayer; and I know we are
+not going to ruin."
+
+"_You_ are not, child, I believe; but you are the only one of us that
+isn't. I wish I was dead, to be out of my misery!"
+
+"Sit down, mother, and read a little bit; and don't talk so. Do, mother!
+It will be an hour and more yet to supper, and I'll get it ready. You
+sit down and read, and I'll make the shortcakes. Do, mother! and you'll
+feel better."
+
+It was half despair and half persuasion that made her do it; but Mrs.
+Mathieson did sit down by the open window and take her Testament; and
+Nettie flew quietly about, making her shortcakes and making up the fire
+and setting the table, and through it all casting many a loving glance
+over to the open book in her mother's hand and the weary, stony face
+that was bent over it. Nettie had not said how her own back was aching,
+and she forgot it almost in her business and her thoughts; though by the
+time her work was done her head was aching wearily too. But cakes and
+table and fire and everything else were in readiness; and Nettie stole
+up behind her mother and leaned over her shoulder; leaned a little
+heavily.
+
+[1] "Don't that chapter comfort you, mother?" she whispered.
+
+[1] See Frontispiece.
+
+"No. It don't seem to me as I've got any feeling left," said Mrs.
+Mathieson. It was the fourth chapter of John at which they were both
+looking.
+
+"Don't it comfort you to read of Jesus being wearied?" Nettie went on,
+her head lying on her mother's shoulder.
+
+"Why should it, child?"
+
+"I like to read it," said Nettie. "Then I know he knows how I feel
+sometimes."
+
+"God knows everything, Nettie."
+
+"Yes, mother; but then Jesus _felt_ it. 'He took our infirmities.' And
+oh, mother, don't you love that tenth verse?--and the thirteenth and
+fourteenth?"
+
+Mrs. Mathieson looked at it, silently; then she said, "I don't rightly
+understand it, Nettie. I suppose I ought to do so,--but I don't."
+
+"Why, mother! I understand it. It means, that if Jesus makes you happy,
+you'll never be unhappy again. 'Whosoever drinketh of the water that I
+shall give him, _shall never thirst_,'--don't you see, mother? 'Shall
+never thirst,'--he will have enough, and be satisfied."
+
+"How do you know it, Nettie?" her mother asked, in a puzzled kind of
+way.
+
+"I know it, mother, because Jesus has given that living water to me."
+
+"He never gave it to me," said Mrs. Mathieson, in the same tone.
+
+"But he _will_, mother. Look up there--oh, how I love that tenth
+verse!--'If thou knewest the gift of God, and who it is that saith to
+thee, Give me to drink; thou wouldest have asked of him, and he would
+have given thee living water.' See, mother,--he will give, if we ask."
+
+"And do you feel so, Nettie?--that you have enough, and are satisfied
+with your life every day?"
+
+"Yes, mother," Nettie said, quietly; "I am very happy. I am happy all
+the time; because I think that Jesus is with me everywhere; when I'm
+upstairs, and when I'm busy here, and when I'm at school, and when I go
+to the spring; and all times. And that makes me very happy."
+
+"And don't you wish for anything you haven't got?" said her mother.
+
+"Yes, one thing," said Nettie. "I just wish that you and father and
+Barry may be so happy too; and I believe that's coming; for I've prayed
+the Lord, and I believe he will give it to me. I want it for other
+people too. I often think, when I am looking at somebody, of those
+words--'If thou knewest the gift of God, thou wouldest have asked of
+him, and he would have given thee living water.'"
+
+With that, Mrs. Mathieson cast down her book and burst into such a
+passion of weeping that Nettie was frightened. It was like the breaking
+up of an icy winter. She flung her apron over her head and sobbed aloud;
+till hearing the steps of the men upon the staircase she rushed off to
+Barry's room, and presently got quiet, for she came out to supper as if
+nothing had happened.
+
+From that time there was a gentler mood upon her mother, Nettie saw;
+though she looked weary and careworn as ever, there was not now often
+the hard, dogged look which had been wont to be there for months past.
+Nettie had no difficulty to get her to read the Testament; and of all
+things, what she liked was to get a quiet hour of an evening alone with
+Nettie and hear her sing hymns. But both Nettie and she had a great
+deal, as Mrs. Mathieson said, "to put up with."
+
+As weeks went on, the father of the family was more and more out at
+nights, and less and less agreeable when he was at home. He and his
+friend Lumber helped each other in mischief: they went together to
+Jackson's shop and spent time in lounging and gossiping and talking
+politics there; and what was worse, they made the time and the politics
+go down with draughts of liquor. Less and less money came to Mrs.
+Mathieson's hand; but her husband always required what he called a good
+meal to be ready for him and his lodger whenever he came home, and made
+no difference in his expectations whether he had provided the means or
+not. The lodger's rent and board had been at first given for the
+household daily expenses; but then Mr. Mathieson began to pay over a
+smaller sum, saying that it was all that was due; and Mrs. Mathieson
+suspected that the rest had been paid away already for brandy. Then Mr.
+Mathieson told her to trade at Jackson's on account, and he would settle
+the bill. Mrs. Mathieson held off from this as long as it was possible.
+She and Nettie did their very best to make the little that was given
+them go a good way; they wasted not a crumb nor a penny, and did not
+spend on themselves what they really wanted; that they might not have
+the fearful storm of anger which was sure to come if the dinner was not
+plentiful and the supper did not please the taste of Mr. Mathieson and
+his lodger. By degrees it came to be very customary for Mrs. Mathieson
+and Nettie to make their meal of porridge and bread, after all the more
+savoury food had been devoured by the others; and many a weary patch and
+darn filled the night hours because they had not money to buy a cheap
+dress or two. Nettie bore it very patiently. Mrs. Mathieson was
+sometimes impatient.
+
+"This wont last me through the week, to get the things you want," she
+said one Saturday to her husband, when he gave her what he said was
+Lumber's payment to him.
+
+"You'll have to make it last," said he, gruffly.
+
+"Will you tell me how I'm going to do that? Here isn't more than half
+what you gave me at first."
+
+"Send to Jackson's for what you want!" he roared at her; "didn't I tell
+you so? and don't come bothering me with your noise."
+
+"When will you pay Jackson?"
+
+"I'll pay you first!" he said, with an oath, and very violently. It was
+a ruder word than he had ever said to her before, and Mrs. Mathieson was
+staggered for a moment by it; but there was another word she was
+determined to say.
+
+"You may do what you like to me," she said, doggedly; "but I should
+think you would see for yourself that Nettie has too much to get along
+with. She is getting just as thin and pale as she can be."
+
+"That's just your fool's nonsense!" said Mr. Mathieson; but he spoke it
+more quietly. Nettie just then entered the room.
+
+"Here, Nettie, what ails you? Come here. Let's look at you. Aint you as
+strong as ever you was? Here's your mother says you're getting puny."
+
+Nettie's smile and answer were so placid and untroubled, and the little
+colour that rose in her cheeks at her father's question made her look so
+fresh and well, that he was quieted. He drew her to his arms, for his
+gentle dutiful little daughter had a place in his respect and affection
+both, though he did not often show it very broadly; but now he kissed
+her.
+
+"There!" said he; "don't you go to growing thin and weak without telling
+me, for I don't like such doings. You tell me when you want anything."
+But with that, Mr. Mathieson got up and went off, out of the house; and
+Nettie had small chance to tell him if she wanted anything. However,
+this little word and kiss were a great comfort and pleasure to her. It
+was the last she had from him in a good while.
+
+Nettie, however, was not working for praise or kisses, and very little
+of either she got. Generally her father was rough, imperious,
+impatient, speaking fast enough if anything went wrong, but very sparing
+in expressions of pleasure. Sometimes a blessing did come upon her from
+the very depth of Mrs. Mathieson's heart, and went straight to Nettie's;
+but it was for another blessing she laboured, and prayed, and waited.
+
+So weeks went by. So her patient little feet went up and down the stairs
+with pails of water from the spring; and her hands made bread and baked
+cakes, and set rooms in order; and it was Nettie always who went to Mr.
+Jackson's for meal and treacle, and to Mrs. Auguste's, the little
+Frenchwoman's, as she was called, for a loaf when they were now and then
+out of bread. And with her mornings spent at school, Nettie's days were
+very busy ones; and the feet that at night mounted the steps to her
+attic room were aching and tired enough. All the more that now Nettie
+and her mother lived half the time on porridge; all the provision
+they dared make of other things being quite consumed by the three hearty
+appetites that were before them at the meal. And Nettie's appetite was
+not at all hearty, and sometimes she could hardly eat at all.
+
+As the summer passed away it began to grow cold, too, up in her garret.
+Nettie had never thought of that. As long as the summer sun warmed the
+roof well in the day, and only the soft summer wind played in and out of
+her window at night, it was all very well; and Nettie thought her
+sleeping-chamber was the best in the whole house, for it was nearest the
+sky. But August departed with its sunny days, and September grew cool at
+evening; and October brought still sunny days, it is true, but the
+nights had a clear sharp frost in them; and Nettie was obliged to cover
+herself up warm in bed and look at the moonlight and the stars as she
+could see them through the little square opening left by the shutter.
+The stars looked very lovely to Nettie, when they peeped at her so, in
+her bed, out of their high heaven; and she was very content.
+
+Then came November; and the winds began to come into the garret, not
+only through the open window, but through every crack between two
+boards. The whole garret was filled with the winds, Nettie thought. It
+was hard managing then. Shutting the shutter would bar out the stars,
+but not the wind, she found; and to keep from being quite chilled
+through at her times of prayer morning and evening, Nettie used to take
+the blanket and coverlets from the bed and wrap herself in them. It was
+all she could do. Still, she forgot the inconveniences; and her little
+garret chamber seemed to Nettie very near heaven, as well as near the
+sky.
+
+But all this way of life did not make her grow strong, nor rosy; and
+though Nettie never told her father that she wanted anything, her
+mother's heart measured the times when it ought to be told.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+THE BROWN CLOAK IN NOVEMBER.
+
+
+November days drew toward an end; December was near. One afternoon Mrs.
+Mathieson, wanting Nettie, went to the foot of the garret stairs to call
+her, and stopped, hearing Nettie's voice singing. It was a clear,
+bird-like voice, and Mrs. Mathieson listened; at first she could not
+distinguish the words, but then came a refrain which was plain enough.
+
+    "Glory, glory, glory, glory,
+       Glory be to God on high,
+     Glory, glory, glory, glory,
+       Sing his praises through the sky;
+     Glory, glory, glory, glory,
+       Glory to the Father give,
+     Glory, glory, glory, glory,
+       Sing his praises all that live."
+
+Mrs. Mathieson's heart gave way. She sat down on the lowest step and
+cried, for very soreness of heart. But work must be done; and when the
+song had ceased, for it went on some time, Mrs. Mathieson wiped her
+tears with her apron and called, "Nettie!"
+
+"Yes, mother. Coming."
+
+"Fetch down your school-cloak, child."
+
+She went back to her room, and presently Nettie came in with the cloak,
+looking placid as usual, but very pale.
+
+"Are you singing up there to keep yourself warm, child?"
+
+"Well, mother, I don't know but it does," Nettie answered, smiling. "My
+garret did seem to me full of glory just now; and it often does,
+mother."
+
+"The Lord save us!" exclaimed Mrs. Mathieson, bursting into tears again.
+"I believe you're in a way to be going above, before my face!"
+
+"Now, mother, what sort of a way is that of talking?" said Nettie,
+looking troubled. "You know I can't die till Jesus bids me; and I don't
+think he is going to take me now. What did you want me to do?"
+
+"Nothing. You aint fit. I must go and do it myself."
+
+"Yes I am fit. I like to do it," said Nettie. "What is it, mother?"
+
+"Somebody's got to go to Mr. Jackson's--but you aint fit, child; you eat
+next to none at noon. You can't live on porridge."
+
+"I like it, mother; but I wasn't hungry. What's wanting from Jackson's?"
+
+Nettie put on her cloak, and took her basket and went out. It was after
+sundown already, and a keen wind swept through the village street, and
+swept through Nettie's brown cloak too, tight as she wrapped it about
+her. But though she was cold and blue, and the wind seemed to go through
+_her_ as well as the cloak, Nettie was thinking of something else. She
+knew that her mother had eaten a very scanty, poor sort of dinner, as
+well as herself, and that _she_ often looked pale and wan; and Nettie
+was almost ready to wish she had not given the last penny of her
+shilling, on Sunday, to the missionary-box. When her father had given
+her the coin, she had meant then to keep it to buy something now and
+then for her mother; but it was not immediately needed, and one by one
+the pennies had gone to buy tracts, or as a mite to the fund for sending
+Bibles or missionaries to those who did not know how to sing Nettie's
+song of "glory."
+
+She wondered to herself now if she had done quite right; she could not
+help thinking that if she had one penny she could buy a smoked herring,
+which, with a bit of bread and tea, would make a comfortable supper for
+her mother, which she could relish. Had she done right? But one more
+thought of the children and grown people who have not the Bible,--who
+know nothing of the golden city with its gates of pearl, and are nowise
+fit to enter by those pure entrances where "nothing that defileth" can
+go in,--and Nettie wished no more for a penny back that she had given to
+bring them there. She hugged herself in her cloak, and as she went quick
+along the darkening ways, the light from that city seemed to shine in
+her heart and make warmth through the cold. She was almost sorry to go
+to Mr. Jackson's shop; it had grown rather a disagreeable place to her
+lately. It was half full of people, as usual at that hour.
+
+"What do you want?" said Mr. Jackson, rather curtly, when Nettie's turn
+came and she had told her errand. "What!" he exclaimed, "seven pounds of
+meal and a pound of butter, and two pounds of sugar! Well, you tell your
+father that I should like to have my bill settled; it's all drawn up,
+you see, and I don't like to open a new account till it's all square."
+
+He turned away immediately to another customer, and Nettie felt she had
+got her answer. She stood a moment, very disappointed, and a little
+mortified, and somewhat downhearted. What should they do for supper? and
+what a storm there would be when her father heard about all this and
+found nothing but bread and tea on the table. Slowly Nettie turned away,
+and slowly made the few steps from the door to the corner. She felt very
+blue indeed; coming out of the warm store the chill wind made her
+shiver. Just at the corner somebody stopped her.
+
+"Nettie!" said the voice of the little French baker, "what ails you? you
+look not well."
+
+Nettie gave her a grateful smile, and said she was well.
+
+"You look not like it," said Mme. Auguste; "you look as if the wind
+might carry you off before you get home. Come to my house--I want to see
+you in the light."
+
+"I haven't time; I must go home to mother, Mrs. August."
+
+"Yes, I know! You will go home all the faster for coming this way first.
+You have not been to see me in these three or four weeks."
+
+She carried Nettie along with her; it was but a step, and Nettie did not
+feel capable of resisting anything. The little Frenchwoman put her into
+the shop before her, made her sit down, and lighted a candle. The shop
+was nice and warm and full of the savoury smell of fresh baking.
+
+"We have made our own bread lately," said Nettie, in answer to the
+charge of not coming there.
+
+"Do you make it good?" said Mme. Auguste.
+
+"It isn't like yours, Mrs. August," said Nettie, smiling.
+
+"If you will come and live with me next summer, I will teach you how to
+do some things; and you shall not look so blue neither. Have you had
+your supper?"
+
+"No, and I am just going home to get supper. I must go, Mrs. August."
+
+"You come in here," said the Frenchwoman; "you are my prisoner. I am all
+alone, and I want somebody for company. You take off your cloak, Nettie,
+and I shall give you something to keep the wind out. You do what I bid
+you!"
+
+Nettie felt too cold and weak to make any ado about complying, unless
+duty had forbade; and she thought there was time enough yet. She let her
+cloak drop, and took off her hood. The little back room to which Mme.
+Auguste had brought her was only a trifle bigger than the bit of a shop;
+but it was as cozy as it was little. A tiny stove warmed it, and kept
+warm, too, a tiny iron pot and tea-kettle which were steaming away. The
+bed was at one end, draped nicely with red curtains; there was a little
+looking-glass, and some prints in frames round the walls; there was
+Madame's little table covered with a purple cloth, and with her work and
+a small clock and various pretty things on it. Mme. Auguste had gone to
+a cupboard in the wall, and taken out a couple of plates and little
+bowls, which she set on a little round stand; and then lifting the cover
+of the pot on the stove, she ladled out a bowlful of what was in it, and
+gave it to Nettie with one of her own nice crisp rolls.
+
+"Eat that!" she said. "I shan't let you go home till you have swallowed
+that to keep the cold out. It makes me all freeze to look at you."
+
+So she filled her own bowl, and made good play with her spoon, while
+between spoonfuls she looked at Nettie; and the good little woman smiled
+in her heart to see how easy it was for Nettie to obey her. The savoury,
+simple, comforting broth she had set before her was the best thing to
+the child's delicate stomach that she had tasted for many a day.
+
+"Is it good?" said the Frenchwoman when Nettie's bowl was half empty.
+
+"It's so good!" said Nettie. "I didn't know I was so hungry."
+
+"Now you will not feel the cold so," said the Frenchwoman, "and you will
+go back quicker. Do you like my _riz-au-gras_?"
+
+"_What_ is it, ma'am?" said Nettie.
+
+The Frenchwoman laughed, and made Nettie say it over till she could
+pronounce the words. "Now you like it," she said; "that is a French
+dish. Do you think Mrs. Mat'ieson would like it?"
+
+"I am sure she would!" said Nettie. "But I don't know how to make it."
+
+"You shall come here and I will teach it to you. And now you shall carry
+a little home to your mother and ask her if she will do the honour to a
+French dish to approve it. It do not cost anything. I cannot sell much
+bread the winters; I live on what cost me nothing."
+
+While saying this, Mme. Auguste had filled a little pail with the
+_riz-au-gras_, and put a couple of her rolls along with it. "It must
+have the French bread," she said; and she gave it to Nettie, who looked
+quite cheered up, and very grateful.
+
+"You are a good little girl!" she said. "How keep you always your face
+looking so happy? There is always one little streak of sunshine
+here"--drawing her finger across above Nettie's eyebrows--"and another
+here,"--and her finger passed over the line of Nettie's lips.
+
+"That's because I _am_ happy, Mrs. August."
+
+"_Always?_"
+
+"Yes, always."
+
+"What makes you so happy always? you was just the same in the cold
+winter out there, as when you was eating my _riz-au-gras_. Now me, I am
+cross in the cold, and not happy."
+
+But the Frenchwoman saw a deeper light come into Nettie's eyes as she
+answered, "It is because I love the Lord Jesus, Mrs. August, and he
+makes me happy."
+
+"_You?_" said Madame. "My child!--What do you say, Nettie? I think not I
+have heard you right."
+
+"Yes, Mrs. August, I am happy because I love the Lord Jesus. I know he
+loves me, and he will take me to be with him."
+
+"Not just yet," said the Frenchwoman, "I hope! Well, I wish I was so
+happy as you, Nettie. Good-bye!"
+
+Nettie ran home, more comforted by her good supper, and more thankful to
+the goodness of God in giving it, and happy in the feeling of his
+goodness than can be told. And very, very glad she was of that little
+tin pail in her hand she knew her mother needed. Mrs. Mathieson had time
+to eat the rice broth before her husband came in.
+
+"She said she would show me how to make it," said Nettie, "and it don't
+cost anything."
+
+"Why, it's just rice and--_what_ is it? I don't see," said Mrs.
+Mathieson. "It isn't rice and milk."
+
+Nettie laughed at her mother. "Mrs. August didn't tell. She called it
+reeso---- I forget what she called it!"
+
+"It's the best thing I ever saw," said Mrs. Mathieson. "There--put the
+pail away. Your father's coming."
+
+He was in a terrible humour, as they expected; and Nettie and her mother
+had a sad evening of it. And the same sort of thing lasted for several
+days. Mrs. Mathieson hoped that perhaps Mr. Lumber would take into his
+head to seek lodgings somewhere else; or at least that Mathieson would
+have been shamed into paying Jackson's bill; but neither thing happened.
+Mr. Lumber found his quarters too comfortable; and Mr. Mathieson spent
+too much of his earnings on drink to find the amount necessary to clear
+off the scores at the grocer's shop.
+
+From that time, as they could run up no new account, the family were
+obliged to live on what they could immediately pay for. That was seldom
+a sufficient supply; and so, in dread of the storms that came whenever
+their wants touched Mr. Mathieson's own comfort, Nettie and her mother
+denied themselves constantly what they very much needed. The old can
+sometimes bear this better than the young. Nettie grew more delicate,
+more thin, and more feeble, every day. It troubled her mother sadly. Mr.
+Mathieson could not be made to see it. Indeed he was little at home
+except when he was eating.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+THE NEW BLANKET.
+
+
+Nettie had been in Barry's room one evening, putting it to rights;
+through the busy day it had somehow been neglected. Mrs. Mathieson's
+heart was so heavy that her work dragged; and when Nettie came out and
+sat down to her Sunday-school lesson, her mother kept watching her for a
+long time with a dull, listless face, quite still and idle. The child's
+face was busy over her Bible, and Mrs. Mathieson did not disturb her,
+till Nettie lifted her head to glance at the clock. Then the bitterness
+of her mother's heart broke out.
+
+"He's a ruined man!" she exclaimed, in her despair. "He's a ruined man!
+he's taking to drinking more and more. It's all over with him--and with
+us."
+
+"No, mother," said Nettie, gently,--"I hope not. There's better times
+coming, mother. God _never_ forsakes those that trust in him. He has
+promised to hear prayer; and I have prayed to him, and I feel sure he
+will save us."
+
+Mrs. Mathieson was weeping bitterly.
+
+"So don't you cry, mother. Trust! 'Only believe'--don't you remember
+Jesus said that? Just believe him, mother. I do."
+
+And proving how true she spoke--how steadfast and firm was the faith she
+professed, with that, as Nettie got up to put away her books, her lips
+burst forth into song; and never more clear nor more sweet than she sung
+then, sounded the wild sweet notes that belong to the words--favourites
+with her. There was no doubt in her voice at all.
+
+    "Great spoils I shall win, from death, hell, and sin,
+     'Midst outward afflictions shall feel Christ within;
+     And when I'm to die, Receive me, I'll cry;
+     For Jesus hath loved me, I cannot tell why."
+
+Mrs. Mathieson sobbed at first; but there came a great quietness over
+her; and as the clear beautiful strain came to an end, she rose up,
+threw her apron over her face, and knelt quietly down by the side of
+her bed; putting her face in her hands. Nettie stood and looked at her;
+then turned and went up the stair to her own praying-place; feeling in
+her heart as if instead of two weary feet she had had "wings as angels,"
+to mount up literally. She knew that part of her prayer was getting its
+answer. She knew by the manner of her mother, that it was in no
+bitterness and despair but in the humbleness of a bowed heart that she
+had knelt down; and Nettie's slow little feet kept company with a most
+bounding spirit. She went to bed and covered herself up, not to sleep,
+but because it was too cold to be in the garret a moment uncovered; and
+lay there broad awake, "making melody in her heart to the Lord."
+
+It was very cold up in Nettie's garret now; the winter had moved on into
+the latter part of December, and the frosts were very keen; and the
+winter winds seem to come in at one end of the attic and to just sweep
+through to the other, bringing all except the snow with them. Even the
+snow often drifted in through the cracks of the rough wainscot board,
+or under the shutter, and lay in little white streaks or heaps on the
+floor, and never melted. To-night there was no wind, and Nettie had left
+her shutter open that she might see the stars as she lay in bed. It did
+not make much difference in the feeling of the place, for it was about
+as cold inside as out; and the stars were great friends of Nettie.
+To-night she lay and watched them, blinking down at her through her
+garret window with their quiet eyes; they were always silent witnesses
+to her of the beauty and purity of heaven, and reminders too of that eye
+that never sleeps and that hand that planted and upholds all. How bright
+they looked down to-night! It was very cold, and lying awake made Nettie
+colder; she shivered sometimes under all her coverings; still she lay
+looking at the stars in that square patch of sky that her shutter
+opening gave her to see, and thinking of the golden city. "They shall
+hunger no more, neither thirst any more; neither shall the sun light on
+them, nor any heat. For the lamb which is in the midst of the throne
+shall feed them, and shall lead them unto living fountains of waters:
+and God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes." "There shall be no
+more curse; but the throne of God and of the Lamb shall be in it, and
+his servants shall serve him."
+
+"His servants shall serve him"--thought Nettie; "and mother will be
+there,--and father will be there, and Barry,--and I shall be there! and
+then I shall be happy. And I am happy now. 'Blessed be the Lord, which
+hath not turned away my prayer, nor his mercy from me!'"--And if that
+verse went through Nettie's head once, it did fifty times. So did this
+one, which the quiet stars seemed to repeat and whisper to her, "The
+Lord redeemeth the soul of his servants, and none of them that trust in
+him shall be desolate." And though now and then a shiver passed over
+Nettie's shoulders, with the cold, she was ready to sing for very
+gladness and fulness of heart.
+
+But lying awake and shivering did not do Nettie's little body any good;
+she looked so very white the next day, that it caught even Mr.
+Mathieson's attention. He reached out his arm and drew Nettie toward
+him, as she was passing between the cupboard and the table. Then he
+looked at her, but he did not say how she looked.
+
+"Do you know day after to-morrow is Christmas day?" said he.
+
+"Yes, I know. It's the day when Christ was born," said Nettie.
+
+"Well, I don't know anything about that," said her father; "but what I
+mean is, that a week after is New Year. What would you like me to give
+you, Nettie,--hey?"
+
+Nettie stood still for a moment, then her eyes lighted up.
+
+"Will you give it to me, father, if I tell you?"
+
+"I don't know. If it is not extravagant, perhaps I will."
+
+"It will not cost much," said Nettie, earnestly. "Will you give me what
+I choose, father, if it does not cost too much?"
+
+"I suppose I will. What is it?"
+
+"Father, you wont be displeased?"
+
+"Not I!" said Mr. Mathieson, drawing Nettie's little form tighter in his
+grasp; he thought he had never felt it so slight and thin before.
+
+"Father, I am going to ask you a great thing!--to go to church with me
+New Year's day."
+
+"To church!" said her father, frowning; but he remembered his promise,
+and he felt Nettie in his arms yet. "What on earth good will that do
+you?"
+
+"A great deal of good. It would please me so much, father."
+
+"What do you want me to go to church for?" said Mr. Mathieson, not sure
+yet what humour he was going to be in.
+
+"To thank God, father, that there was a Christmas; when Jesus came, that
+we might have a New Year."
+
+"What? what?" said Mr. Mathieson. "What are you talking about?"
+
+"Because, father," said Nettie, trembling, and seizing her chance,
+"since Jesus loved us and came and died for us, we all may have a New
+Year of glory. I shall, father; and I want you too. Oh do, father!" and
+Nettie burst into tears. Mr. Mathieson held her fast, and his face
+showed a succession of changes for a minute or so. But she presently
+raised her head from his shoulder, where it had sunk, and kissed him,
+and said--
+
+"May I have what I want, father?"
+
+"Yes--go along," said Mr. Mathieson. "I should like to know how to
+refuse you, though. But, Nettie, don't you want me to give you anything
+else?"
+
+"Nothing else!" she told him, with her face all shining with joy. Mr.
+Mathieson looked at her and seemed very thoughtful all supper time.
+
+"Can't you strengthen that child up a bit?" he said to his wife
+afterwards. "She does too much."
+
+"She does as little as I can help," said Mrs. Mathieson; "but she is
+always at something. I am afraid her room is too cold o' nights. She
+aint fit to bear it. It's bitter up there."
+
+"Give her another blanket or quilt, then," said her husband. "I should
+think you would see to that. Does she say she is cold?"
+
+"No,--never except sometimes when I see her looking blue, and ask her."
+
+"And what does she say then?"
+
+"She says sometimes she is a little cold."
+
+"Well, do put something more over her, and have no more of it!" said her
+husband, violently. "Sit still and let the child be cold, when another
+covering would make it all right!" And he ended with swearing at her.
+
+Mrs. Mathieson did not dare to tell him that Nettie's food was not of a
+sufficiently nourishing and relishing kind; she knew what the answer to
+that would be; and she feared that a word more about Nettie's
+sleeping-room would be thought an attack upon Mr. Lumber's being in the
+house. So she was silent.
+
+But there came home something for Nettie in the course of the Christmas
+week, which comforted her a little, and perhaps quieted Mr. Mathieson
+too. He brought with him, on coming home to supper one evening, a great
+thick roll of a bundle, and put it in Nettie's arms, telling her that
+was for her New Year.
+
+"For me!" said Nettie, the colour starting a little into her cheeks.
+
+"Yes, for you. Open it, and see."
+
+So Nettie did, with some trouble, and there tumbled out upon the floor a
+great heavy warm blanket, new from the shop. Mr. Mathieson thought the
+pink in her cheeks was the prettiest thing he had seen in a long while.
+
+"Is this for _me_, father?"
+
+"I mean it to be so. See if it will go on that bed of yours and keep you
+warm."
+
+Nettie gave her father some very hearty thanks, which he took in a
+silent, pleased way; and then she hastened off with her blanket
+upstairs. How thick and warm it was! and how nicely it would keep her
+comfortable when she knelt, all wrapped up in it, on that cold floor.
+For a little while it would; not even a warm blanket would keep her from
+the cold more than a little while at a time up there. But Nettie tried
+its powers the first thing she did.
+
+Did Mr. Mathieson mean the blanket to take the place of his promise?
+Nettie thought of that, but like a wise child she said nothing at all
+till the Sunday morning came. Then, before she set off for
+Sunday-school, she came to her father's elbow.
+
+"Father, I'll be home a quarter after ten; will you be ready then?"
+
+"Ready for what?" said Mr. Mathieson.
+
+"For my New Year's," said Nettie. "You know you promised I should go to
+church with you."
+
+"Did I? And aint you going to take the blanket for your New Year's, and
+let me off, Nettie?"
+
+"No, father, to be sure not. I'll be home at a quarter past; please
+don't forget." And Nettie went off to school very thankful and happy,
+for her father's tone was not unkind. How glad she was New Year's day
+had come on Sunday.
+
+Mr. Mathieson was as good as his word. He was ready at the time, and
+they walked to the church together. That was a great day to Nettie. Her
+father and mother going to church in company with her and with each
+other. But nobody that saw her sober sweet little face would have
+guessed how very full her heart was of prayer, even as they walked along
+the street among the rest of the people. And when they got to church, it
+seemed as if every word of the prayers and of the reading and of the
+hymns and of the sermon, struck on all Nettie's nerves of hearing and
+feeling. Would her father understand any of those sweet words? would he
+feel them? would they reach him? Nettie little thought that what he felt
+most, what _did_ reach him, though he did not thoroughly understand it,
+was the look of her own face; though she never but once dared turn it
+toward him. There was a little colour in it more than usual; her eye was
+deep in its earnestness; and the grave set of her little mouth was
+broken up now and then in a way that Mr. Mathieson wanted to watch
+better than the straight sides of her sun-bonnet would let him. Once he
+thought he saw something more.
+
+He walked home very soberly, and was a good deal on the silent order
+during the rest of the day. He did not go to church in the afternoon.
+But in the evening, as her mother was busy in and out getting supper
+ready, and Mr. Lumber had not come in, Mr. Mathieson called Nettie to
+his side.
+
+"What was you crying for in church this forenoon?" he said, low.
+
+"Crying!" said Nettie, surprised. "Was I crying?"
+
+"If it wasn't tears I saw dropping from under your hands on to the
+floor, it must have been some drops of rain that had got there, and I
+don't see how they could very well. There warn't no rain outside. What
+was it for, hey?"
+
+There came a great flush all over Nettie's face, and she did not at once
+speak.
+
+"Hey?--what was it for?"--repeated Mr. Mathieson.
+
+The flush passed away. Nettie spoke very low and with lips all of a
+quiver. "I remember. I was thinking, father, how 'all things are
+ready'--and I couldn't help wishing that you were ready too."
+
+"Ready for what?" said Mr. Mathieson, somewhat roughly. "All things
+ready for what?"
+
+"Ready for you," said Nettie. "Jesus is ready to love you, and calls
+you--and the angels are ready to rejoice for you--and I----"
+
+"Go on! What of you?"
+
+Nettie lifted her eyes to him. "I am ready to rejoice too, father." But
+the time of rejoicing was not yet. Nettie burst into tears.
+
+Mr. Mathieson was not angry, yet he flung away from her with a rude
+"Pshaw!" and that was all the answer she got. But the truth was, that
+there was something in Nettie's look, of tenderness, and purity, and
+trembling hope, that her father's heart could not bear to meet; and what
+is more, that he was never able to forget.
+
+Nettie went about her evening business helping her mother, and keeping
+back the tears which were very near again; and Mr. Mathieson began to
+talk with Mr. Lumber, and everything was to all appearance just as it
+had been hitherto. And so it went on after that.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+THE HOUSE-RAISING.[2]
+
+[2] A festival common in America on the completion of a house.
+
+
+It grew colder and colder in Nettie's garret--or else she grew thinner
+and felt it more. She certainly thought it was colder. The snow came,
+and piled a thick covering on the roof and stopped up some of the chinks
+in the clapboarding with its white caulking; and that made the place a
+little better; then the winds from off the snow-covered country were
+keen and bitter.
+
+Nettie's whole day was so busy that she had little time to think, except
+when she went upstairs at night; covered up there under her blankets and
+quilts, and looking up at the stars, she used to feel sadly that things
+were in a very bad way. Her father was out constantly o' nights, and
+they knew too surely where he spent them. He was not a confirmed
+drunkard yet; but how long would it take, at this rate? And that man
+Lumber leading him on, with a thicker head himself, and Barry following
+after! No seeming thought nor care for his wife and daughter and their
+comfort; it was with great difficulty they could get from him enough
+money for their daily needs; and to make that do, Nettie and her mother
+pinched and starved themselves. Often and often Nettie went to bed with
+an empty stomach, because she was not hearty enough to eat porridge or
+pork, and the men had not left enough of other viands for herself and
+her mother. And neither of them would pretend to want that little there
+was, for fear the other wanted it more.
+
+Her mother was patient and quiet now; not despairing, as a few months
+ago; and that was such joy to Nettie that she felt often much more like
+giving thanks than complaining. Yet she saw her mother toiling and
+insufficiently cared for, and she went to bed feeling very poor and thin
+herself; then Nettie used to look at the stars and remember the Lord's
+promises and the golden city, till at last she would go to sleep upon
+her pillow feeling the very richest little child in all the country.
+"They shall not be ashamed that wait for me"--was one word which was
+very often the last in her thoughts. Nettie had no comfort from her
+father in all the time between New Year and spring. Except one word.
+
+One morning she went to Barry secretly in his room, and asked him to
+bring the pail of water from the spring for her. Barry had no mind to
+the job.
+
+"Why can't mother do it?" he said, "if you can't?"
+
+"Mother is busy and hasn't a minute. I always do it for her."
+
+"Well, why can't you go on doing it? you're accustomed to it, you see,
+and I don't like going out so early," said Barry, stretching himself.
+
+"I would, and I wouldn't ask you; only, Barry, somehow I don't think I'm
+quite strong lately and I can hardly bring the pail, it's so heavy to
+me. I have to stop and rest ever so many times before I can get to the
+house with it."
+
+"Well, if you stop and rest, I suppose it wont hurt you," said Barry.
+"_I_ should want to stop and rest, too, myself."
+
+His little sister was turning away, giving it up; when she was met by
+her father who stepped in from the entry. He looked red with anger.
+
+"You take the pail and go get the water!" said he to his son; "and you
+hear me! don't you let Nettie bring in another pailful when you're at
+home, or I'll turn you out of the house. You lazy scoundrel! You don't
+deserve the bread you eat. Would you let her work for you, when you are
+as strong as sixty?"
+
+Barry's grumbled words in answer were so very unsatisfactory, that Mr.
+Mathieson in a rage advanced toward him with uplifted fist; but Nettie
+sprang in between and very nearly caught the blow that was meant for her
+brother.
+
+"Please, father, don't!" she cried; "please, father, don't be angry.
+Barry didn't think--he didn't"--
+
+"Why didn't he?" said Mr. Mathieson. "Great lazy rascal! He wants to be
+flogged."
+
+"Oh don't!" said Nettie,--"he didn't know why I asked him, or he
+wouldn't have refused me."
+
+"Why did you, then?"
+
+"Because it made my back ache so to bring it, I couldn't help asking
+him."
+
+"Did you ever ask him before?"
+
+"Never mind, please, father!" said Nettie, sweetly. "Just don't think
+about me, and don't be angry with Barry. It's no matter now."
+
+"Who does think about you? Your mother don't, or she would have seen to
+this before."
+
+"Mother didn't know my back ached. Father, you know she hasn't a minute,
+she is so busy getting breakfast in time; and she didn't know I wasn't
+strong enough. Father, don't tell her, please, I asked Barry. It would
+worry her so. Please don't, father."
+
+"_You_ think of folks, anyhow. You're a regular peacemaker!" exclaimed
+Mr. Mathieson as he turned away and left her. Nettie stood still, the
+flush paling on her cheek, her hand pressed to her side.
+
+"Am I that?" she thought. "Shall I be that? Oh Lord, my Saviour, my dear
+Redeemer, send thy peace here!"--She was still in the same place and
+position when Barry came in again.
+
+"It's wretched work!" he exclaimed, under his breath, for his father was
+in the next room. "It's as slippery as the plague, going down that path
+to the water--it's no use to have legs, for you can't hold up. I'm all
+froze stiff with the water I've spilled on me!"
+
+"I know it's very slippery," said Nettie.
+
+"And then you can't get at the water when you're there, without stepping
+into it--it's filled chuck full of snow and ice all over the edge. It's
+the most wretched work!"
+
+"I know it, Barry," said Nettie. "I am sorry you have to do it."
+
+"What did you make me do it for, then?" said he, angrily. "You got it
+your own way this time, but never mind,--I'll be up with you for it."
+
+"Barry," said his sister, "please do it just a little while for me, till
+I get stronger, and don't mind; and as soon as ever I can I'll do it
+again. But you don't know how it made me ache all through, bringing the
+pail up that path."
+
+"Stuff!" said Barry. And from that time, though he did not fail to bring
+the water in the morning, yet Nettie saw he owed her a grudge for it all
+the day afterward. He was almost always away with his father, and she
+had little chance to win him to better feeling.
+
+So the winter slowly passed and the spring came. Spring months came, at
+least; and now and then to be sure a sweet spring day, when all nature
+softened; the sun shone mildly, the birds sang, the air smelled sweet
+with the opening buds. Those days were lovely, and Nettie enjoyed them
+no one can tell how much. On her walk to school, it was so pleasant to
+be able to step slowly and not hasten to be out of the cold; and
+Nettie's feet did not feel ready for quick work now-a-days. It was so
+pleasant to hear the sparrows and other small birds, and to see them,
+with their cheery voices and sonsy little heads, busy and happy. And the
+soft air was very reviving too.
+
+Then at home the work was easier, a great deal; and in Nettie's garret
+the change was wonderful. There came hours when she could sit on the
+great chest under her window and look out, or kneel there and pray,
+without danger of catching her death of cold; and instead of that, the
+balmy perfumed spring breeze coming into her window, and the trees
+budding, and the grass on the fields and hills beginning to look green,
+and the sunlight soft and vapoury. Such an hour--or quarter of an
+hour--to Nettie was worth a great deal. Her weary little frame seemed to
+rest in it, and her mind rested too. For those days were full not only
+of the goodness of God, but of the promise of his goodness. Nettie read
+it, and thanked him. Yet things in the household were no better.
+
+One evening Nettie and her mother were sitting alone together. They were
+usually alone in the evenings, though not usually sitting down quietly
+with no work on hand. Nettie had her Sunday-school lesson, and was busy
+with that, on one side of the fire. Mrs. Mathieson on the other side sat
+and watched her. After a while Nettie looked up and saw her mother's
+gaze, no longer on her, fixed mournfully on the fire and looking through
+that at something else. Nettie read the look, and answered it after her
+own fashion. She closed her book and sang, to a very, very sweet,
+plaintive air,
+
+    "I heard the voice of Jesus say,
+       Come unto me and rest:
+     Lay down, thou weary one, lay down
+       Thy head upon my breast.
+     I came to Jesus as I was,
+       Weary, and worn, and sad,
+     I found in him a resting-place,
+       And he has made me glad.
+
+    "I heard the voice of Jesus say,
+       I am this dark world's light;
+     Look unto me--thy morn shall rise,
+       And all thy day be bright.
+     I looked to Jesus, and I found
+       In him my star, my sun;
+     And in that light of life I'll walk
+       Till travelling days are done."
+
+She sang two verses, clear, glad, and sweet, as Nettie always sang;
+then she paused and looked at her mother.
+
+"Do you keep up hope yet, Nettie?" said Mrs. Mathieson, sadly.
+
+"Yes, mother," Nettie said, quietly.
+
+"Mine gets beat out sometimes," said Mrs. Mathieson, drooping her head
+for an instant on her hands. "Your father's out every night now; and you
+know where he goes; and he cares less and less about anything else in
+the world but Jackson's store, and what he gets there, and the company
+he finds there. And he don't want much of being a ruined man."
+
+"Yes, mother. But the Bible says we must wait on the Lord."
+
+"Wait! yes, and I've waited; and I see you growing as thin as a shadow
+and as weak as a mouse; and your father don't see it; and he's let you
+sleep in that cold place up there all winter just to accommodate that
+Lumber!--I am sure he is well named."
+
+"O mother, my garret is nice now,--on the warm days. You can't think how
+pretty it is out of my window--prettier than any window in the house."
+
+"Outside, I dare say. It isn't a place fit for a cat to sleep on!"
+
+"Mother, it's a good place to me. I don't want a better place. I don't
+think anybody else has a place that seems so good to me; for mother,
+Jesus is always there."
+
+"I expect there'll be nothing else but heaven good enough for you after
+it!" said Mrs. Mathieson, with a sort of half sob. "I see you wasting
+away before my very eyes."
+
+"Mother," said Nettie, cheerfully, "how can you talk so? I feel
+well--except now and then."
+
+"If your father could only be made to see it!--but he can't see
+anything, nor hear anything. There's that house-raising to-morrow,
+Nettie--it's been on my mind this fortnight past, and it kills me."
+
+"Why, mother?"
+
+"I know how it will be," said Mrs. Mathieson; "they'll have a grand
+set-to after they get it up; and your father'll be in the first of it;
+and I somehow feel as if it would be the finishing of him. I wish
+almost he'd get sick--or anything, to keep him away. They make such a
+time after a house-raising."
+
+"O mother, don't wish that," said Nettie; but she began to think how it
+would be possible to withdraw her father from the frolic with which the
+day's business would be ended. Mr. Mathieson was a carpenter, and a fine
+workman; and always had plenty of work and was much looked up to among
+his fellows.
+
+Nettie began to think whether _she_ could make any effort to keep her
+father from the dangers into which he was so fond of plunging; hitherto
+she had done nothing but pray for him; could she do anything more, with
+any chance of good coming of it? She thought and thought; and resolved
+that she must try. It did not look hopeful; there was little she could
+urge to lure Mr. Mathieson from his drinking companions; nothing, except
+her own timid affection, and the one other thing it was possible to
+offer him,--a good supper. How to get that was not so easy; but she
+consulted with her mother.
+
+Mrs. Mathieson said she used in her younger days to know how to make
+waffles,[3] and Mr. Mathieson used to think they were the best things
+that ever were made; now if Mrs. Moss, a neighbour, would lend her
+waffle-iron, and she could get a few eggs,--she believed she could
+manage it still. "But we haven't the eggs, child," she said; "and I
+don't believe any power under heaven can get him to come away from that
+raising frolic."
+
+[3] _Waffles_, a species of sweet-cake used on such festivals in
+America.
+
+Nor did Nettie. It was to no power _under_ heaven that she trusted. But
+she must use her means. She easily got the iron from Mrs. Moss. Then she
+borrowed the eggs from Mme. Auguste, who in Lent time always had them;
+then she watched with grave eyes and many a heart prayer the while, the
+mixing and making of the waffles.
+
+"How do you manage the iron, mother?"
+
+"Why it is made hot," said Mrs. Mathieson, "very hot, and buttered; and
+then when the batter is light you pour it in, and clap it together, and
+put it in the stove."
+
+"But how can you pour it in, mother? I don't see how you can fill the
+iron."
+
+"Why, you can't, child; you fill one half, and shut it together: and
+when it bakes it rises up and fills the other half. You'll see."
+
+The first thing Nettie asked when she came home from school in the
+afternoon was, if the waffles were light? She never saw any look better,
+Mrs. Mathieson said; "but I forgot, child, we ought to have cinnamon and
+white sugar to eat on them;--it was so that your father used to admire
+them; they wont be waffles without sugar and cinnamon, I'm afraid he'll
+think;--but I don't believe you'll get him home to think anything about
+them."
+
+Mrs. Mathieson ended with a sigh. Nettie said nothing; she went round
+the room, putting it in particularly nice order; then set the table.
+When all that was right, she went up to her garret, and knelt down and
+prayed that God would take care of her and bless her errand. She put
+the whole matter in the Lord's hands; then she dressed herself in her
+hood and cloak and went down to her mother. Mr. Mathieson had not come
+home to dinner, being busy with the house-raising; so they had had no
+opportunity to invite him, and Nettie was now on her way to do it.
+
+"It's turned a bad afternoon; I'm afraid it aint fit for you to go,
+Nettie."
+
+"I don't mind," said Nettie. "May be I'll get some sugar and cinnamon,
+mother, before I come back."
+
+"Well, you know where the raising is? it's out on the Shallonway road,
+on beyond Mrs. August's, a good bit."
+
+Nettie nodded, and went out; and as the door closed on her grave, sweet
+little face, Mrs. Mathieson felt a great strain on her heart. She would
+have been glad to relieve herself by tears, but it was a dry pain that
+would not be relieved so. She went to the window, and looked out at the
+weather.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+THE WAFFLES.
+
+
+The early part of the day had been brilliant and beautiful; then,
+March-like, it had changed about, gathered up a whole sky-full of
+clouds, and turned at last to snowing. The large feathery flakes were
+falling now, fast; melting as fast as they fell; making everything wet
+and chill, in the air and under the foot. Nettie had no overshoes; she
+was accustomed to get her feet wet very often, so that was nothing new.
+She hugged herself in her brown cloak, on which the beautiful snowflakes
+rested white a moment and then melted away, gradually wetting the
+covering of her arms and shoulders in a way that would reach through by
+and by. Nettie thought little of it. What was she thinking of? She was
+comforting herself with the thought of that strong and blessed Friend
+who has promised to be always with his servants; and remembering his
+promise--"they shall not be ashamed that wait for me." What did the snow
+and the wet matter to Nettie? Yet she looked too much like a snow-flake
+herself when she reached Mr. Jackson's store and went in. The white
+frosting had lodged all round her old black silk hood and even edged the
+shoulders of her brown cloak; and the white little face within looked
+just as pure.
+
+Mr. Jackson looked at her with more than usual attention; and when
+Nettie asked him if he would let her have a shilling's worth of fine
+white sugar and cinnamon, and trust her till the next week for the
+money, he made not the slightest difficulty; but measured or weighed it
+out for her directly, and even said he would trust her for more than
+that. So Nettie thanked him, and went on to the less easy part of her
+errand. Her heart began to beat a little bit now.
+
+The feathery snowflakes fell thicker and made everything wetter than
+ever; it was very raw and chill, and few people were abroad. Nettie went
+on, past the little bakewoman's house, and past all the thickly built
+part of the village. Then came houses more scattered; large handsome
+houses with beautiful gardens and grounds and handsome garden palings
+along the roadside. Past one or two of these, and then there was a space
+of wild ground; and here Mr. Jackson was putting up a new house for
+himself, and meant to have a fine place. The wild bushes grew in a thick
+hedge along by the fence, but over the tops of them Nettie could see the
+new timbers of the frame that the carpenters had been raising that day.
+She went on till she came to an opening in the hedge and fence as well,
+and then the new building was close before her. The men were at work
+yet, finishing their day's business; the sound of hammering rung sharp
+on all sides of the frame; some were up on ladders, some were below.
+Nettie walked slowly up and then round the place, searching for her
+father. At last she found him. He and Barry, who was learning his
+father's trade, were on the ground at one side of the frame, busy as
+bees. Talking was going on roundly too, as well as hammering, and
+Nettie drew near and stood a few minutes without any one noticing her.
+She was not in a hurry to interrupt the work nor to tell her errand; she
+waited.
+
+Barry saw her first, but ungraciously would not speak to her nor for
+her. If she was there for anything, he said to himself, it was for some
+spoil-sport; and one pail of water a day was enough for him. Mr.
+Mathieson was looking the other way.
+
+"I say, Mathieson," called one of the men from the inside of the frame,
+"I s'pose 'taint worth carrying any of this stuff--Jackson'll have
+enough without it?" The words were explained to Nettie's horror by a jug
+in the man's hands, which he lifted to his lips.
+
+"Jackson will do something handsome in that way to-night," said Nettie's
+father; "or he'll not do as he's done by, such a confounded wet evening.
+But I've stood to my word, and I expect he'll stand to his'n."
+
+"He gave his word there was to be oysters, warn't it?" called another
+man from the top of the ladder.
+
+"Punch and oysters," said Mathieson, hammering away, "or I've raised
+the last frame I ever _will_ raise, for him. I expect he'll stand it."
+
+"Oysters aint much count," said another speaker. "I'd rather have a
+slice of good sweet pork any day."
+
+"Father," said Nettie. She had come close up to him, but she trembled.
+What possible chance could she have?
+
+"Hollo!" said Mr. Mathieson, turning suddenly. "Nettie!--what's to pay,
+girl?"
+
+He spoke roughly, and Nettie saw that his face was red. She trembled all
+over, but she spoke as bravely as she could.
+
+"Father, I am come to invite you home to supper to-night. Mother and I
+have a particular reason to want to see you. Will you come?"
+
+"Come where?" said Mr. Mathieson, but half understanding her.
+
+"Come home to tea, father. I came to ask you. Mother has made something
+you like."
+
+"I'm busy, child. Go home. I'm going to supper at Jackson's. Go home."
+He turned to his hammering again. But Nettie stood still in the snow
+and waited.
+
+"Father--" she said, after a minute, coming yet closer and speaking more
+low.
+
+"What? Aint you gone?" exclaimed Mr. Mathieson.
+
+"Father," said Nettie, softly, "mother has made waffles for you,--and
+you used to like them so much, she says; and they are light and
+beautiful and just ready to bake. Wont you come and have them with us?
+Mother says they'll be very nice."
+
+"Why didn't she make 'em another time," grumbled Barry,--"when we
+weren't going to punch and oysters? That's a better game!"
+
+If Mathieson had not been drinking he might have been touched by the
+sight of Nettie; so very white and delicate her little face looked,
+trembling and eager, within that border of her black hood on which the
+snow crystals lay, a very doubtful and unwholesome embroidery. She
+looked as if she was going to melt and disappear like one of them; and
+perhaps Mr. Mathieson did feel the effect of her presence, but he felt
+it only to be vexed and irritated; and Barry's suggestion fell into
+ready ground.
+
+"I tell you, go home!" he said, roughly. "What are you doing here? I
+tell you I'm _not_ coming home--I'm engaged to supper to-night, and I'm
+not going to miss it for any fool's nonsense. Go home!"
+
+Nettie's lip trembled, but that was all the outward show of the
+agitation within. She would not have delayed to obey, if her father had
+been quite himself; in his present condition she thought perhaps the
+next word might undo the last; she could not go without another trial.
+She waited an instant and again said softly and pleadingly, "Father,
+I've been and got cinnamon and sugar for you,--all ready."
+
+"Cinnamon and sugar"--he cursed with a great oath; and turning gave
+Nettie a violent push from him, that was half a blow. "Go home!" he
+repeated--"go home! and mind your business; and don't take it upon you
+to mind mine."
+
+Nettie reeled, staggered, and coming blindly against one or two timbers
+that lay on the ground, she fell heavily over them. Nobody saw her. Mr.
+Mathieson had not looked after giving her the push, and Barry had gone
+over to help somebody who called him. Nettie felt dizzy and sick; but
+she picked herself up, and wet and downhearted took the road home again.
+She was sadly downhearted. Her little bit of a castle in the air had
+tumbled all to pieces; and what was more, it had broken down upon her. A
+hope, faint indeed, but a hope, had kept her up through all her
+exertions that day; she felt very feeble, now the hope was gone; and
+that her father should have laid a rough hand on her, hurt her sorely.
+It hurt her bitterly; he had never done so before; and the cause why he
+came to do it now, rather made it more sorrowful than less so to
+Nettie's mind.
+
+She could not help a few salt tears from falling; and for a moment
+Nettie's faith trembled. Feeling weak, and broken, and miserable, the
+thought came coldly across her mind, _would_ the Lord not hear her,
+after all? It was but a moment of faith-trembling, but it made her
+sick. There was more to do that; the push and fall over the timbers had
+jarred her more than she knew at the moment. Nettie walked slowly back
+upon her road till she neared the shop of Mme. Auguste; then she felt
+herself growing very ill, and just reached the Frenchwoman's door to
+faint away on her steps.
+
+She did not remain there two seconds. Mme. Auguste had seen her go by an
+hour before, and now sat at her window looking out to amuse herself, but
+with a special intent to see and waylay that pale child on her repassing
+the house. She saw the little black hood reappear, and started to open
+the door, just in time to see Nettie fall down at her threshold. As
+instantly two willing arms were put under her, and lifted up the child
+and bore her into the house. Then Madame took off her hood, touched her
+lips with brandy and her brow with cologne water, and chafed her hands.
+She had lain Nettie on the floor of the inner room and put a pillow
+under her head; the strength which had brought her so far having failed
+there, and proved unequal to lift her again and put her on the bed.
+Nettie presently came to, opened her eyes, and looked at her nurse.
+
+"Why, my Nettie," said the little woman, "what is this, my child? what
+is the matter with you?"
+
+"I don't know," said Nettie, scarce over her breath.
+
+"Do you feel better now, _mon enfant_?"
+
+Nettie did not, and did not speak. Mme. Auguste mixed a spoonful of
+brandy and water and made her take it. That revived her a little.
+
+"I must get up and go home," were the first words she said.
+
+"You will lie still there, till I get some person to lift you on the
+bed," said the Frenchwoman, decidedly. "I have not more strength than a
+fly. What ails you, Nettie?"
+
+"I don't know."
+
+"Take one spoonful more. What did you have for dinner to-day?"
+
+"I don't know. But I must go home!" said Nettie, trying to raise
+herself. "Mother will want me--she'll want me."
+
+"You will lie still, like a good child," said her friend, gently putting
+her back on her pillow;--"and I will find some person to carry you
+home--or some person what will bring your mother here. I will go see if
+I can find some one now. You lie still, Nettie."
+
+Nettie lay still, feeling weak after that exertion of trying to raise
+herself. She was quite restored now, and her first thoughts were of
+grief, that she had for a moment, and under any discouragement, failed
+to trust fully the Lord's promises. She trusted them now. Let her father
+do what he would, let things look as dark as they might, Nettie felt
+sure that "the rewarder of them that diligently seek him" had a blessing
+in store for her. Bible words, sweet and long loved and rested on, came
+to her mind, and Nettie rested on them with perfect rest. "For he hath
+not despised nor abhorred the affliction of the afflicted; neither hath
+he hid his face from him; but when he cried unto him, _he heard_." "Our
+heart shall rejoice in him, _because we have trusted in his holy name_."
+Prayer for forgiveness, and a thanksgiving of great peace, filled
+Nettie's heart all the while the Frenchwoman was gone.
+
+Meanwhile Mme. Auguste had been looking into the street, and seeing
+nobody out in the wet snow, she rushed back to Nettie. Nettie was like
+herself now, only very pale.
+
+"I must have cut my lip somehow," she said; "there's blood on my
+handkerchief. How did I come in here?"
+
+"Blood!" said the Frenchwoman,--"where did you cut yourself, Nettie? Let
+me look!"
+
+Which she did, with a face so anxious and eager that Nettie smiled at
+her. Her own brow was as quiet and placid as ever it was.
+
+"How did I get in here, Mrs. August?"
+
+The Frenchwoman, however, did not answer her. Instead of which she went
+to her cupboard and got a cup and spoon, and then from a little saucepan
+on the stove dipped out some riz-au-gras again.
+
+"What did you have for dinner, Nettie? you did not tell me."
+
+"Not much--I wasn't hungry," said Nettie. "O, I must get up and go home
+to mother."
+
+"You shall eat something first," said her friend; and she raised
+Nettie's head upon another pillow, and began to feed her with the spoon.
+"It is good for you. You must take it. Where is your father? Don't talk,
+but tell me. I will do everything right."
+
+"He is at work on Mr. Jackson's new house."
+
+"Is he there to-day?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+Mme. Auguste gave her all the "broth" in the cup, then bade her keep
+still, and went to the shop window. It was time for the men to be
+quitting work, she knew; she watched for the carpenters to come. If they
+were not gone by already!--how should she know? Even as she thought
+this, a sound of rude steps and men's voices came from down the road;
+and the Frenchwoman went to her door and opened it. The men came along,
+a scattered group of four or five.
+
+"Is Mr. Mat'ieson there?" she said. Mme. Auguste hardly knew him by
+sight. "Men, I say! is Mr. Mat'ieson there?"
+
+"George, that's you; you're wanted," said one of the group, looking
+back; and a fine-looking, tall man paused at Madame's threshold.
+
+"Are you Mr. Mat'ieson?" said the Frenchwoman.
+
+"Yes, ma'am. That's my name."
+
+"Will you come in? I have something to speak to you. Your little
+daughter Nettie is very sick."
+
+"Sick!" exclaimed the man. "Nettie!--Where is she?"
+
+"She is here. Hush! you must not say nothing to her, but she is very
+sick. She is come fainting at my door, and I have got her in here; but
+she wants to go home, and I think you had better tell her she will not
+go home, but she will stay here with me to-night."
+
+"Where is she?" said Mr. Mathieson; and he stepped in with so little
+ceremony that the mistress of the house gave way before him. He looked
+round the shop.
+
+"She is not here--you shall see her--but you must not tell her she is
+sick," said the Frenchwoman, anxiously.
+
+"Where is she?" repeated Mr. Mathieson, with a tone and look which made
+Mme. Auguste afraid he would burst the doors if she did not open them.
+She opened the inner door without further preparation, and Mr. Mathieson
+walked in. By the fading light he saw Nettie lying on the floor at his
+feet. He was thoroughly himself now; sobered in more ways than one. He
+stood still when he had got there, and spoke not a word.
+
+"Father," said Nettie, softly.
+
+He stooped down over her. "What do you want, Nettie?"
+
+"Can't I go home?"
+
+"She must better not go home to-night!" began Mme. Auguste, earnestly.
+"It is so wet and cold! She will stay here with me to-night, Mr.
+Mat'ieson. You will tell her that it is best."
+
+But Nettie said, "_Please_ let me go home! mother will be so troubled."
+She spoke little, for she felt weak; but her father saw her very eager
+in the request. He stooped and put his strong arms under her, and lifted
+her up.
+
+"Have you got anything you can put over her?" he said, looking round the
+room. "I'll fetch it back."
+
+Seeing that the matter was quite taken out of her hands, the kind little
+Frenchwoman was very quick in her arrangements. She put on Nettie's head
+a warm hood of her own; then round her and over her she wrapped a thick
+woollen counterpane, that to be sure would have let no snow through if
+the distance to be travelled had been twice as far. As she folded and
+arranged the thick stuff round Nettie's head, so as to shield even her
+face from the outer air, she said, half whispering--
+
+"I would not tell nothing to mother about your lip; it is not much. I
+wish I could keep you. Now she is ready, Mr. Mat'ieson."
+
+And Mr. Mathieson stalked out of the house, and strode along the road
+with firm, swift steps, till, past Jackson's, and past the turning, he
+came to his own door, and carried Nettie upstairs. He never said a word
+the whole way. Nettie was too muffled up, and too feeble to speak; so
+the first word was when he had come in and sat down in a chair, which he
+did with Nettie still in his arms. Mrs. Mathieson, standing white and
+silent, waited to see what was the matter; she had no power to ask a
+question. Her husband unfolded the counterpane that was wrapped round
+Nettie's head; and there she was, looking very like her usual self, only
+exceedingly pale. As soon as she caught sight of her mother's face,
+Nettie would have risen and stood up, but her father's arms held her
+fast. "What do you want, Nettie?" he asked. It was the first word.
+
+"Nothing, father," said Nettie, "only lay me on the bed, please; and
+then you and mother have supper."
+
+Mr. Mathieson took her to the bed and laid her gently down, removing the
+snow-wet counterpane which was round her.
+
+"What is the matter?" faltered Mrs. Mathieson.
+
+"Nothing much, mother," said Nettie, quietly; "only I was a little sick.
+Wont you bake the waffles and have supper?"
+
+"What will _you_ have?" said her father.
+
+"Nothing--I've had something. I feel nicely now," said Nettie. "Mother,
+wont you have supper, and let me see you?"
+
+Mrs. Mathieson's strength had well-nigh deserted her; but Nettie's
+desire was urgent, and seeing that her husband had seated himself by the
+bedside, and seemed to have no idea of being anywhere but at home that
+evening, she at length gathered up her faculties to do what was the best
+thing to be done, and went about preparing the supper. Nettie's eyes
+watched her, and Mr. Mathieson when he thought himself safe watched
+_her_. He did not look like the same man, so changed and sobered was the
+expression of his face. Mrs. Mathieson was devoured by fear, even in
+observing this; but Nettie was exceedingly happy. She did not feel
+anything but weakness: and she lay on her pillow watching the waffles
+baked and sugared, and then watching them eaten, wondering and
+rejoicing within herself at the way in which her father had been brought
+to eat his supper there at home after all. She was the only one that
+enjoyed anything, though her father and mother ate to please her. Mrs.
+Mathieson had asked an account of Nettie's illness, and got a very
+unsatisfactory one. She had been faint, her husband said; he had found
+her at Mrs. August's and brought her home; that was about all. After
+supper he came and sat by Nettie again; and said she was to sleep there,
+and he would go up and take Nettie's place in the attic. Nettie in vain
+said she was well enough to go upstairs; her father cut the question
+short, and bade Mrs. Mathieson go up and get anything Nettie wanted.
+When she had left the room, he stooped his head down to Nettie and said
+low--
+
+"What was that about your lip?"
+
+Nettie started; she thought he would fancy it had been done, if done at
+all, when he gave her the push at the frame-house. But she did not, dare
+not, answer. She said it was only that she had found a little blood on
+her handkerchief, and supposed she might have cut her lip when she fell
+on Mrs. August's threshold, when she had fainted.
+
+"Show me your handkerchief," said her father. Nettie obeyed. He looked
+at it, and looked close at her lips, to find where they might have been
+wounded; and Nettie was sorry to see how much he felt, for he even
+looked pale himself as he turned away from her. But he was as gentle and
+kind as he could be; Nettie had never seen him so; and when he went off
+up to bed and Nettie was drawn into her mother's arms to go to sleep,
+she was very, very happy. But she did not tell her hopes or her joys to
+her mother; she only told her thanks to the Lord; and that she did till
+she fell asleep.
+
+The next morning Nettie was well enough to get up and dress herself.
+That was all she was suffered to do by father or mother. Mr. Mathieson
+sent Barry for water and wood, and himself looked after the fire while
+Mrs. Mathieson was busy; all the rest he did was to take Nettie in his
+arms and sit holding her till breakfast was ready. He did not talk, and
+he kept Barry quiet; he was like a different man. Nettie, feeling indeed
+very weak, could only sit with her head on her father's shoulder, and
+wonder, and think, and repeat quiet prayers in her heart. She was very
+pale yet, and it distressed Mr. Mathieson to see that she could not eat.
+So he laid her on the bed, when he was going to his work, and told her
+she was to stay there and be still, and he would bring her something
+good when he came home.
+
+The day was strangely long and quiet to Nettie. Instead of going to
+school and flying about at home doing all sorts of things, she lay on
+the bed and followed her mother with her eyes as she moved about the
+room at her work. The eyes often met Mrs. Mathieson's eyes; and once
+Nettie called her mother to her bedside.
+
+"Mother, what is the matter with you?"
+
+Mrs. Mathieson stood still, and had some trouble to speak. At last she
+told Nettie she was sorry to see her lying there and not able to be up
+and around.
+
+"Mother," said Nettie, expressively,--"'There is rest for the weary.'"
+
+"O Nettie," said her mother, beginning to cry,--"you are all I have
+got!--my blessed one!"
+
+"Hush, mother," said Nettie; "_I_ am not your blessed one,--you forget;
+and I am not all you have got. Where is Jesus, mother? O mother, 'rest
+in the Lord!'"
+
+"I don't deserve to," said Mrs. Mathieson, trying to stop her tears.
+
+"I feel very well," Nettie went on; "only weak, but I shall be well
+directly. And I am so happy, mother. Wont you go on and get dinner? and
+mother, just do that;--'rest in the Lord.'"
+
+Nettie was not able to talk much, and Mrs. Mathieson checked herself and
+went on with her work, as she begged. When her father came home at night
+he was as good as his word, and brought home some fresh oysters, that he
+thought would tempt Nettie's appetite; but it was much more to her that
+he stayed quietly at home and never made a move toward going out. Eating
+was not in Nettie's line just now; the little kind Frenchwoman had been
+to see her in the course of the day and brought some delicious rolls and
+a jug of _riz-au-gras_, which was what seemed to suit Nettie's appetite
+best of all.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+THE GOLDEN CITY.
+
+
+Several days went on; she did not feel sick, and she was a little
+stronger; but appetite and colour were wanting. Her father would not let
+her do anything; he would not let her go up to her garret to sleep,
+though Nettie pleaded for it, fearing he must be uncomfortable. He said
+it was fitter for him than for her, though he made faces about it. He
+always came home and stayed at home now, and especially attended to
+Nettie; his wages came home too, and he brought every day something to
+try to tempt her to eat; and he was quiet and grave and kind--not the
+same person.
+
+Mrs. Mathieson in the midst of all her distress about Nettie began to
+draw some free breaths. But her husband thought only of his child;
+unless, perhaps, of himself; and drew none. Regularly after supper he
+would draw Nettie to his arms and sit with her head on his shoulder;
+silent generally, only he would sometimes ask her what she would like.
+The first time he put this inquiry when Mr. Lumber was out of the way,
+Nettie answered by asking him to read to her. Mr. Mathieson hesitated a
+little, not unkindly, and then read; a chapter in the Bible, of course,
+for Nettie wished to hear nothing else. And after that he often read to
+her; for Mr. Lumber kept up his old habits and preferred livelier
+company, and so was always out in the evenings.
+
+So several days passed; and when Saturday came, Mr. Mathieson lost half
+a day's work and took a long walk to a farm where the people kept
+pigeons; and brought home one for Nettie's supper. However, she could
+fancy but very little of it.
+
+"What shall I do for you?" said her father. "You go round like a shadow,
+and you don't eat much more. What shall I do that you would like?"
+
+This time there was nobody in the room. Nettie lifted her head from his
+shoulder and met his eyes.
+
+"If you would come to Jesus, father!"
+
+"What?" said Mr. Mathieson.--"I don't know anything about that, Nettie.
+I aint fit."
+
+"Jesus will take you anyhow, father, if you will come."
+
+"We'll talk about that some other time," said Mr. Mathieson,--"when you
+get well."
+
+"But suppose I don't get well, father?"
+
+"Eh?----" said Mr. Mathieson, startled.
+
+"Perhaps I shan't get well," said Nettie, her quiet, grave face not
+changing in the least; "then I shall go to the golden city; and father,
+I shall be looking for you till you come."
+
+Mr. Mathieson did not know how to answer her; he only groaned.
+
+"Father, will you come?" Nettie repeated, a little faint streak of
+colour in her cheeks showing the earnestness of the feeling at work. But
+her words had a mingled accent of tenderness and hope which was
+irresistible.
+
+"Yes, Nettie--if you will show me how," her father answered, in a
+lowered voice. And Nettie's eye gave one bright flash of joy. It was as
+if all her strength had gone out at that flash, and she was obliged to
+lean back on her father's shoulder and wait; joy seemed to have taken
+away her breath. He waited too, without knowing why she did.
+
+"Father, the only thing to do is to come to Jesus."
+
+"What does that mean, Nettie? You know I don't know."
+
+"It means, father, that Jesus is holding out his hand with a promise to
+you. Now if you will take the promise,--that is all."
+
+"What is the promise, Nettie?"
+
+Nettie waited, gathered breath, for the talk made her heart beat; and
+then said, "'This is the promise that he hath promised us, even eternal
+life.'"
+
+"How can a sinful man take such a promise?" said Mr. Mathieson, with
+suppressed feeling. "That is for people like you, Nettie, not me."
+
+"Oh, Jesus has bought it!" cried Nettie; "it's free. It's without
+price. You may have it if you'll believe in him and love him, father. I
+can't talk."
+
+She had talked too much, or the excitement had been too strong for her.
+Her words were broken off by coughing, and she remarked that her lip
+must have bled again. Her father laid her on the bed, and from that time
+for a number of days she was kept as quiet as possible; for her strength
+had failed anew and yet more than at first.
+
+For two weeks she hardly moved from the bed. But except that she was so
+very pale, she did not look very ill; her face wore just its own patient
+and happy expression. Her father would not now let her talk to him; but
+he did everything she asked. He read to her in the Bible; Nettie would
+turn over the leaves to the place she wanted, and then point it out to
+him with a look of life, and love, and pleasure, that were like a whole
+sermon; and her father read first that sermon and then the chapter. He
+went to church as she asked him; and without her asking him, after the
+first Sunday. Nettie stayed at home on the bed and sang psalms in her
+heart.
+
+After those two weeks there was a change for the better. Nettie felt
+stronger, looked more as she used to look, and got up and even went
+about a little. The weather was changing too, now. April days were
+growing soft and green; trees budding and grass freshening up, and birds
+all alive in the branches; and above all the air and the light, the
+wonderful soft breath of spring and sunshine of spring, made people
+forget that winter had ever been harsh or severe.
+
+Nettie went out and took little walks in the sun, which seemed to do her
+good; and she begged so hard to be allowed to go to her garret again,
+that her father took pity on her; sent Mr. Lumber away, and gave her her
+old nice little room on the same floor with the others. Her mother
+cleaned it and put it in order, and Nettie felt too happy when she found
+herself mistress of it again and possessed of a quiet place where she
+could read and pray alone. With windows open, how sweetly the spring
+walked in there, and made it warm, and bright, and fragrant too. But
+Nettie had a tenderness for her old garret as long as she lived.
+
+"It had got to be full of the Bible, mother," she said one day. "You
+know it was too cold often to sit up there; so I used to go to bed and
+lie awake and think of things,--at night when the stars were
+shining,--and in the morning in the moonlight sometimes."
+
+"But how was the garret full of the Bible, Nettie?"
+
+"Oh, I had a way of looking at some part of the roof or the window when
+I was thinking; when I couldn't have the Bible in my hands."
+
+"Well, how did that make it?"
+
+"Why the words seemed to be all over, mother. There was one big nail I
+used often to be looking at when I was thinking over texts, and a
+knot-hole in one of the wainscot boards; my texts used to seem to go in
+and out of that knot-hole. And somehow, mother, I got so that I hardly
+ever opened the shutter without thinking of those words--'Open ye the
+gates, that the righteous nation that keepeth the truth may enter in.'
+I don't know why, but I used to think of it. And out of that window I
+used to see the stars, and look at the golden city."
+
+"Look at it!" said Mrs. Mathieson.
+
+"In my thoughts, you know, mother. Oh, mother, how happy we are, that
+are going to the city! It seems to me as if all that sunlight was a
+curtain let down, and the city is just on the other side."
+
+It was a lovely spring day, the windows open, and the country flooded
+with a soft misty sunlight, through which the tender greens of the
+opening leaf began to appear. Nettie was lying on the bed in her room,
+her mother at work by her side. Mrs. Mathieson looked at her earnest
+eyes, and then wistfully out of the window where they were gazing.
+
+"What makes you think so much about it?" she said, at last.
+
+"I don't know; I always do. I used to think about it last winter,
+looking out at the stars. Why, mother, you know Jesus is there; how can
+I help thinking about it?"
+
+"He is here, too," murmured poor Mrs. Mathieson.
+
+"Mother," said Nettie, tenderly, "aren't those good words,--'He hath not
+despised nor abhorred the affliction of the afflicted, neither hath he
+hid his face from him; but when he cried unto him, _he heard_?' I have
+thought of those words, very often."
+
+Nettie wished she could sing, for she had often seen singing comfort her
+mother; but she had not the power to-day. She gave her the best she
+could. Her words, however, constantly carried hurt and healing together
+to her mother's mind. But when Nettie went on to repeat softly the verse
+of a hymn that follows, she was soothed, notwithstanding the hinted
+meaning in the words. So sweet was the trust of the hymn, so unruffled
+the trust of the speaker. The words were from a little bit of a book of
+translations of German hymns which Mr. Folke, her Sunday-school
+teacher, had brought her, and which was never out of Nettie's hand.
+
+    "'As God leads me so my heart
+        In faith shall rest.
+      No grief nor fear my soul shall part
+        From Jesus' breast.
+      In sweet belief I know
+      What way my life doth go--
+      Since God permitteth so--
+        That must be best.'"
+
+Slowly she said the words, with her usual sober, placid face; and Mrs.
+Mathieson was mute.
+
+For some weeks, as the spring breathed warmer and warmer, Nettie
+revived; so much that her mother at times felt encouraged about her. Mr.
+Mathieson was never deceived. Whether his former neglect of his child
+had given him particular keenness of vision in all that concerned her
+now, or for whatever reason, _he_ saw well enough and saw constantly
+that Nettie was going to leave him. There was never a wish of hers
+uncared for now; there was not a straw suffered to lie in her path, that
+he could take out of it. He went to church, and he read at home; he
+changed his behaviour to her mother as well as to herself, and he
+brought Barry to his bearings. What more did Nettie want?
+
+One Sunday, late in May, Nettie had stayed at home alone while the rest
+of the family were gone to church, the neighbour down stairs having
+promised to look after her. She needed no looking after, though; she
+spent her time pleasantly with her Bible and her hymns, till feeling
+tired she went to her room to lie down. The windows were open; it was a
+very warm day; the trees were in leaf, and from her bed Nettie could
+only see the sunshine in the leaves, and in one place through a gap in
+the trees, a bit of bright hill-side afar off. The birds sang merrily,
+and nothing else sounded at all; it was very Sabbath stillness. So
+Nettie lay till she heard the steps of the church-goers returning; and
+presently, after her mother had been there and gone, her father came
+into her room to see her. He kissed her, and said a few words, and then
+went to the window and stood there looking out. Both were silent some
+time, while the birds sang on.
+
+"Father," said Nettie.
+
+He turned instantly, and asked her what she wanted.
+
+"Father," said Nettie, "the streets of the city are all of gold."
+
+"Well," said he, meeting her grave eyes, "and what then, Nettie?"
+
+"Only, I was thinking, if the _streets_ are gold, how clean must the
+feet be that walk on them!"
+
+He knew what her intent eyes meant, and he sat down by her bedside and
+laid his face in his hands. "I am a sinful man, Nettie!" he said.
+
+"Father, 'this is a faithful saying, that Jesus Christ came into the
+world to save sinners.'"
+
+"I don't deserve he should save me, Nettie."
+
+"Well, father, ask him to save you, _because_ you don't deserve it."
+
+"What sort of a prayer would that be?"
+
+"The right one, father; for Jesus does deserve it, and for his sake is
+the only way. If you deserved it, you wouldn't want Jesus; but now '_he_
+is our peace.' O father listen, listen, to what the Bible says." She had
+been turning the leaves of her Bible, and read low and earnestly--"'Now
+we are ambassadors for God, as though God did beseech you by us; we pray
+you, in Christ's stead, be ye reconciled to God.' Oh, father, aren't you
+willing to be reconciled to him?"
+
+"God knows I am willing!" said Mr. Mathieson.
+
+"_He_ is willing, I am sure," said Nettie. "'He was wounded for our
+transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities, the chastisement of
+our peace was upon him.' He has made peace; he is the Prince of Peace;
+he will give it to you, father."
+
+There was a long silence. Mr. Mathieson never stirred. Nor Nettie,
+hardly. The words were true of her,--"He that believeth shall not make
+haste." She waited, looking at him. Then he said, "What must I do,
+Nettie?"
+
+"Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ."
+
+"How, child?"
+
+"Father, the best way is to ask him, and he will tell you how. If you
+are only willing to be his servant--if you are willing to give yourself
+to the Lord Jesus--are you willing, father?"
+
+"I am willing, anything!--if he will have me," said Mr. Mathieson.
+
+"Then go, father!" said Nettie, eagerly;--"go and ask him, and he will
+teach you how; he will, he has promised. Go, father, and ask the
+Lord--will you? Go now."
+
+Her father remained still a moment--then he rose up and went out of the
+room, and she heard his steps going up to the unused attic. Nettie
+crossed her hands upon her breast, and smiled. She was too much
+exhausted to pray, otherwise than with a thought.
+
+Her mother soon came in, and startled by her flushed look, asked how she
+did. "Well," Nettie said. Mrs. Mathieson was uneasy, and brought her
+something to take, which Nettie couldn't eat; and insisted on her lying
+still and trying to go to sleep. Nettie thought she could not sleep; and
+she did not for some time; then slumber stole over her, and she slept
+sweetly and quietly while the hours of the summer afternoon rolled away.
+Her mother watched beside her for a long while before she awoke; and
+during that time read surely in Nettie's delicate cheek and too delicate
+colour, what was the sentence of separation. She read it, and smothered
+the cry of her heart, for Nettie's sake.
+
+The sun was descending toward the western hilly country, and long level
+rays of light were playing in the tree-tops, when Nettie awoke.
+
+"Are you there, mother?" she said--"and is the Sunday so near over! How
+I have slept."
+
+"How do you feel, dear?"
+
+"Why, I feel well," said Nettie. "It has been a good day. The gold is
+all in the air here--not in the streets." She had half raised herself
+and was sitting looking out of the window.
+
+"Do you think of that city all the time?" inquired Mrs. Mathieson, half
+jealously.
+
+"Mother," said Nettie, slowly, still looking out at the sunlight, "would
+you be very sorry, and very much surprised, if I were to go there before
+long?"
+
+"I should not be very much surprised, Nettie," answered her mother, in a
+tone that told all the rest. Her child's eye turned to her sorrowfully
+and understandingly.
+
+"You'll not be very long before you'll be there too," she said. "Now
+kiss me, mother."
+
+Could Mrs. Mathieson help it? She took Nettie in her arms, but instead
+of the required kiss there came a burst of passion that bowed her head
+in convulsive grief against her child's breast. The pent-up sorrow, the
+great burden of love and tenderness, the unspoken gratitude, the
+unspeakable longing of heart, all came in those tears and sobs that
+shook her as if she had forgotten on what a frail support she was half
+resting. Nay, nature must speak this one time; she had taken the matter
+into her own hands, and she was not to be struggled with, for a while.
+Nettie bore it--how did she bear it? With a little trembling of lip at
+first; then that passed, and with quiet sorrow she saw and felt the
+suffering which had broken forth so stormily. True to her office, the
+little peacemaker tried her healing art. Softly stroking her mother's
+face and head while she spoke, she said very softly and slowly,
+
+"Mother, you know it is Jesus that said, 'Blessed are they that mourn,
+for they shall be comforted.' You have the mourning now, but he will
+find the comfort by and by."
+
+Ashamed of her giving way, and of her having left it to the weak one to
+act the part of the strong, Mrs. Mathieson checked herself, held up her
+head and dried her tears. Nettie lay down wearily.
+
+"I will stay here, mother," she said, "till tea is ready; and then I
+will come." Mrs. Mathieson went to attend to it.
+
+When Nettie went into the other room, her father was sitting there. She
+said nothing however, and even for some time did not look in his face to
+see what he might have to say to her. She took a cup of tea and a
+biscuit, and eat an egg that her mother had boiled for her. It was when
+supper was over, and they had moved from the table and Mrs. Mathieson
+was busy about, that Nettie turned her eyes once more upon her father,
+with their soft, full inquiry. He looked grave, subdued, tender; she had
+heard that in his voice already; not as she had ever seen him look
+before. He met her eyes, and answered them.
+
+"I understand it now, Nettie," he said.
+
+It was worth while to see Nettie's smile. She was not a child very given
+to expressing her feelings, and when pleasure reached that point with
+her, it was something to see such a breaking of light upon a face that
+generally dwelt in twilight sobriety. Her father drew her close, close
+within his arms; and without one word Nettie sat there, till, for very
+happiness and weariness, she fell asleep; and he carried her to her
+room.
+
+There was a great calm fell upon the family for a little time
+thereafter. It was like one of those spring days that were passed--full
+of misty light, and peace, and hope, and promise. It was a breath of
+rest.
+
+But they knew it would end--for a time; and one summer day the end came.
+It was a Sunday again, and again Nettie was lying on her bed, enjoying
+in her weakness the loveliness of the air and beauty without. Her mother
+was with her, and knew that she had been failing very fast for some
+days. Nettie knew it too.
+
+"How soon do you think father will be home?" she said.
+
+"Not before another hour, I think," said Mrs. Mathieson. "Why, what of
+it, Nettie?"
+
+"Nothing----" said Nettie, doubtfully. "I'd like him to come."
+
+"It wont be long," said her mother.
+
+"Mother, I am going to give you my little dear hymn book," said Nettie,
+presently; "and I want to read you this hymn now, and then you will
+think of me when you read it. May I?"
+
+"Read," said Mrs. Mathieson; and she put up her hand to hide her face
+from Nettie. Nettie did not look, however; her eyes were on her hymn,
+and she read it, low and sweetly--very sweetly--through. There was no
+tremor in her voice, but now and then a little accent of joy or a shade
+of tenderness.
+
+    "'Meet again! yes, we shall meet again,
+      Though now we part in pain!
+            His people all
+            Together Christ shall call.
+                  Hallelujah!
+
+    "'Soon the days of absence shall be o'er,
+      And thou shalt weep no more;
+            Our meeting day
+            Shall wipe all tears away.
+                  Hallelujah!
+
+    "'Now I go with gladness to our home,
+      With gladness thou shalt come;
+            There I will wait
+            To meet thee at heaven's gate.
+                  Hallelujah!
+
+    "'Dearest! what delight again to share
+      Our sweet communion there!
+            To walk among
+            The holy ransomed throng.
+                  Hallelujah!
+
+    "'Here, in many a grief, our hearts were one,
+      But there in joys alone;
+            Joys fading never,
+            Increasing, deepening ever.
+                  Hallelujah!
+
+    "'Not to mortal sight can it be given
+      To know the bliss of heaven;
+            But thou shalt be
+            Soon there, and sing with me,
+                  Hallelujah!
+
+    "'Meet again! yes, we shall meet again,
+      Though now we part in vain!
+            His people all
+            Together Christ shall call.
+                  Hallelujah!'"
+
+Mrs. Mathieson's head bowed as the hymn went on, but she dared not give
+way to tears, and Nettie's manner half awed and half charmed her into
+quietness. It was not likely she would forget those words ever. When the
+reading had ceased, and in a few minutes Mrs. Mathieson felt that she
+could look toward Nettie again, she saw that the book had fallen from
+her hand and that she was almost fainting. Alarmed instantly, she called
+for help, and got one of the inmates of the house to go after Mr.
+Mathieson. But Nettie sank so fast, they were afraid he would not come
+in time. The messenger came back without having been able to find him;
+for after the close of the services in the church Mr. Mathieson had
+gone out of his way on an errand of kindness. Nettie herself was too low
+to ask for him, if indeed she was conscious that he was not there. They
+could not tell; she lay without taking any notice.
+
+But just as the last rays of the sun were bright in the leaves of the
+trees and on the hills in the distance, Mr. Mathieson's step was heard.
+One of the neighbours met him and told him what he must expect; and he
+came straight to Nettie's room. And when he bent down over her and
+spoke, Nettie knew his voice and opened her eyes, and once more smiled.
+It was like a smile from another country. Her eyes were fixed on him.
+Mr. Mathieson bent yet nearer and put his lips to hers; then he tried to
+speak.
+
+"My little peacemaker, what shall I do without you?"
+
+Nettie drew a long, long breath. "Peace--is--made," she slowly said.
+
+And the peacemaker was gone.
+
+
+                                THE END.
+
+
+
+
+                                    LONDON: THE BROADWAY, LUDGATE HILL.
+                                       NEW YORK: 416, BROOME STREET.
+
+
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+
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+      WOOD'S NATURAL HISTORY PICTURE-BOOK: ANIMALS. 170 Illustrations.
+      Fcap. 4to.
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+
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+
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+
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+
+      PETSETILLA'S POSY: A Fairy Tale. By _Tom Hood_. With numerous
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+
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+
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+
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+
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+
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+
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+
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+
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+
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+
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+
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+
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+
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+
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+
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+
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+
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+
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+
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+
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+
+      ROB ROY. By _James Grant_.
+
+      TOM AND THE CROCODILES. By _Anne Bowman_.
+
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+
+      ERNIE ELTON, AT HOME AND AT SCHOOL.
+
+      THE VILLAGE IDOL. By the Author of "A Trap to Catch a Sunbeam."
+
+      CHILDREN OF BLESSING. By the Author of "The Four Sisters."
+
+      LAST HOMES OF DEPARTED GENIUS.
+
+      LOST AMONG THE WILD MEN.
+
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+
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+
+      CECILE RAYE.
+
+      PAPA'S WISE DOGS.
+
+      PLAY HOURS AND HALF HOLIDAYS.
+
+      KANGAROO HUNTERS. By _Anne Bowman_.
+
+      THE GOLDEN RULE.
+
+      EDGAR'S BOYHOOD OF GREAT MEN.
+
+      FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. By _J. G. Edgar_.
+
+      REV. J. G. WOOD'S BOY'S OWN NATURAL HISTORY BOOK.
+
+      TALES OF CHARLTON SCHOOL. By the _Rev. H. C. Adams_.
+
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+
+      RED ERIC. By _R. M. Ballantyne_.
+
+      LOUIS' SCHOOL DAYS.
+
+      WILD MAN OF THE WEST. By _R. M. Ballantyne_.
+
+      DOGS AND THEIR WAYS. By _Williams_.
+
+      DIGBY HEATHCOTE. By _Kingston_.
+
+      BRUIN. By _Mayne Reid_.
+
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+
+      WALKS AND TALKS OF TWO SCHOOLBOYS.
+
+      FOREST EXILES. By _Mayne Reid_.
+
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+
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+
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+
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+
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+
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+
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+
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+
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+
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+
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+
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+
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+
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+
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+
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+
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+
+      THE GIRLS OF THE FAMILY. By the Author of "A Trap to Catch a
+      Sunbeam."
+
+      PAUL GERARD THE CABIN BOY. By _Kingston_.
+
+      DICK RODNEY. By _James Grant_.
+
+      JACK MANLY. By _James Grant_.
+
+      DASHWOOD PRIORY.
+
+      HEROINES OF DOMESTIC LIFE.
+
+      THE BEAR-HUNTERS OF THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS.
+
+      HELEN MORDAUNT. By the Author of "Naomi."
+
+      THE CASTAWAYS. By _Anne Bowman_.
+
+      THE BOY VOYAGERS. By _Anne Bowman_.
+
+      THE YOUNG EXILES. By _Anne Bowman_.
+
+      MATILDA LONSDALE. By _C. Adams_.
+
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+
+
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+
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+
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+
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+
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+
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+
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+
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+
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+
+
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+
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+
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+
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+
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+
+      EDGEWORTH'S POPULAR TALES.
+
+      EDGEWORTH'S MORAL TALES.
+
+      EDGEWORTH'S PARENT'S ASSISTANT.
+
+      EDGEWORTH'S EARLY LESSONS.
+
+      OLD TALES FOR THE YOUNG.
+
+      CLARISSA; or, The Mervyn Inheritance. By _Miss Bowman_.
+
+      THE OLD HELMET. By the Author of "The Wide, Wide World."
+
+      THE WIDE, WIDE WORLD.
+
+      DAWNINGS OF GENIUS.
+
+      THE TRAVELS OF ROLANDO. First Series.
+
+      CELEBRATED CHILDREN.
+
+      EDGAR CLIFTON.
+
+      THE LAMPLIGHTER.
+
+      MELBOURNE HOUSE.
+
+      ROMANCE OF ADVENTURE.
+
+      SEVEN WONDERS OF THE WORLD.
+
+      QUEECHY.
+
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+
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+
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+
+
+Routledge's Two-and-Sixpenny Juvenile Books.
+
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+
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+ 2  6 FRIEND OR FOE. A Tale of Sedgmoor. By the _Rev. H. C. Adams, M.A._
+      With Page Illustrations. Fcap. 8vo, cloth.
+
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+
+      GILBERT THE ADVENTURER. By _Peter Parley_.
+
+      THE LUCKY PENNY, and other Tales. By _Mrs. S. C. Hall_.
+
+      MINNIE RAYMOND. Illustrated by B. Foster.
+
+      HELENA BERTRAM. By the Author of "The Four Sisters."
+
+      HEROES OF THE WORKSHOP, &c. By _E. L. Brightwell_.
+
+      SUNSHINE AND CLOUDS. By _Miss Bowman_.
+
+      THE MAZE OF LIFE. By the Author of "The Four Sisters."
+
+      THE WIDE, WIDE WORLD.
+
+      THE LAMPLIGHTER. By _Cummins_.
+
+      THE RECTOR'S DAUGHTER. By _Miss Bowman_.
+
+      THE OLD HELMET. By _Miss Wetherell_.
+
+      QUEECHY. By _Miss Wetherell_.
+
+      SIR ROLAND ASHTON. By _Lady C. Long_.
+
+      THE TWINS; or, Sisterly Love.
+
+      ELLEN MONTGOMERY'S BOOKSHELF. Coloured Illustrations.
+
+      THE TWO SCHOOL GIRLS. With Coloured Illustrations.
+
+      MELBOURNE HOUSE. By _Miss Wetherell_.
+
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+
+      ROUGH DIAMONDS. By _John Hollingshead_.
+
+      THE MEDWINS OF WYKEHAM. By the Author of "Marian."
+
+      BOY CAVALIER. By the _Rev. H. C. Adams_.
+
+      GILDEROY, THE HERO OF SCOTLAND.
+
+      FAIRY TALES. By _Madame de Chatelaine_.
+
+      EMILY CHESTER.
+
+      LAMB'S TALES.
+
+      STORIES OF OLD DANIEL.
+
+      EXTRAORDINARY MEN.
+
+      EXTRAORDINARY WOMEN.
+
+      THE YOUNG ARTISTS.
+
+      LIFE OF NAPOLEON.
+
+      POPULAR ASTRONOMY.
+
+      ORBS OF HEAVEN.
+
+      PILGRIM'S PROGRESS.
+
+
+Routledge's Two-Shilling Juvenile Books.
+
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+
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+ 2  0 AUSTEN'S TALES. Five vols., with Illustrations, fcap. 8vo, cloth,
+      price 2_s._ each.
+
+      VILLAGE SKETCHES. By the _Rev. C. T. Whitehead_.
+
+      THE PLAY-DAY BOOK. By _Fanny Fern_. With Coloured Plates by
+      Kronheim. Fcap. 8vo, cloth.
+
+      CONQUEST AND SELF-CONQUEST.
+
+      EVENINGS AT DONALDSON MANOR. By _M'Intosh_.
+
+      GRACE AND ISABEL. By _M'Intosh_.
+
+      GERTRUDE AND EULALIE.
+
+      ROBERT AND HAROLD.
+
+      AMY CARLTON.
+
+      ROBINSON CRUSOE.
+
+      LAURA TEMPLE.
+
+      OUR NATIVE LAND.
+
+      HARRY AND HIS HOMES.
+
+      SOLITARY HUNTER. By _Palliser_.
+
+      BUNDLE OF STICKS; or, Love and Hate. By _J. & E. Kirby_.
+
+      FAMILY PICTURES FROM THE BIBLE.
+
+      HESTER AND I; or, Beware of Worldliness.
+
+      THE CHERRY-STONES. By the _Rev. H. C. Adams_.
+
+      THE FIRST OF JUNE. By ditto.
+
+      ROSA. A Story for Girls.
+
+      MAY DUNDAS; or, The Force of Example. By _Mrs. Geldart_.
+
+      GLIMPSES OF OUR ISLAND HOME. By ditto.
+
+      THE INDIAN BOY. By the _Rev. H. C. Adams_.
+
+      ERNIE ELTON AT HOME. By _Mrs. Eiloart_.
+
+      THE STANDARD POETRY BOOK FOR SCHOOLS.
+
+      TRY AND TRUST. By the Author of "Arthur Morland."
+
+      TEN MORAL TALES. By _Guizot_.
+
+      THE ORPHANS OF WATERLOO.
+
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+
+      THE GIRL'S READER.
+
+      THE GATES AJAR. With 8 Plates.
+
+      CHARMS AND COUNTER CHARMS.
+
+      ROBINSON THE YOUNGER.
+
+      JUVENILE TALES.
+
+      SWISS FAMILY ROBINSON.
+
+      EVENINGS AT HOME.
+
+      SANDFORD AND MERTON.
+
+      ERNIE ELTON AT SCHOOL.
+
+      JOHN HARTLEY.
+
+      THE WONDER BOOK.
+
+      TANGLEWOOD TALES.
+
+      ARCHIE BLAKE.
+
+      INEZ AND EMMELINE.
+
+      MAUM GUINEA.
+
+      JACK OF ALL TRADES. By _T. Miller_.
+
+      ORPHAN OF WATERLOO. By _Mrs. Blackford_.
+
+      ADVENTURES OF JOSEPH HAWSEPIPE.
+
+      TODD'S LECTURES TO CHILDREN. 1st and 2nd Series.
+
+      MAROONER'S ISLAND.
+
+      THE MAYFLOWER. By _Mrs. Stowe_.
+
+      ANECDOTES OF DOGS.
+
+      MOSS-SIDE. By _Miss Harland_.
+
+      MR. RUTHERFORD'S CHILDREN. Complete.
+
+
+Routledge's Eighteenpenny Juveniles.
+
+_Square 16mo, with Illustrations by_ GILBERT, ABSOLON, _&c._
+
+ s. d.
+ 1  6 ON THE SEAS. A Book for Boys.
+
+      PEASANT AND PRINCE. By _Harriet Martineau_.
+
+      CROFTON BOYS. By ditto.
+
+      FEATS ON THE FIORD. By ditto.
+
+      SETTLERS AT HOME. By ditto.
+
+      LITTLE DRUMMER: A Tale of the Russian War.
+
+      FRANK. By _Maria Edgeworth_.
+
+      ROSAMOND. By ditto.
+
+      HARRY AND LUCY, LITTLE DOG TRUSTY, &c.
+
+      A HERO; or, Philip's Book. By the Author of "John Halifax."
+
+      CABIN BY THE WAYSIDE.
+
+      BLACK PRINCESS.
+
+      LAURA AND ELLEN; or, Time Works Wonders.
+
+      EMIGRANT'S LOST SON. By _G. H. Hall_.
+
+      THE RUNAWAYS AND THE GIPSIES.
+
+      BRITISH WOLF HUNTERS. By _Thomas Miller_.
+
+      THE BOW OF FAITH; or, Old Testament Lessons.
+
+      ANCHOR OF HOPE; or, New Testament Lessons. By ditto.
+
+      ACCIDENTS OF CHILDHOOD; or, Stories of Heedless Children.
+
+      ANNIE MAITLAND; or, The Lesson of Life. By _D. Richmond_.
+
+      LUCY ELTON; or, Home and School.
+
+      THE YOUNG NATURALIST. By _Mrs. Loudon_.
+
+      MEMOIRS OF A DOLL.
+
+      ROSE AND KATE.
+
+      STORY OF AN APPLE.
+
+      HOLIDAY RAMBLES.
+
+      DAILY THOUGHTS FOR CHILDREN. By _Mrs. Geldart_.
+
+      EMILIE THE PEACEMAKER. By ditto.
+
+      TRUTH IS EVERYTHING. By ditto.
+
+      CHRISTMAS HOLIDAYS. By _Miss Jane Strickland_.
+
+      AUNT EMMA. By the Author of "Rose and Kate."
+
+      THE ISLAND OF THE RAINBOW. By _Mrs. Newton Crossland_.
+
+      MAX FRERE; Or, Return Good for Evil.
+
+      RAINBOWS IN SPRINGTIDE.
+
+      THE CHILD'S FIRST BOOK OF NATURAL HISTORY.
+
+      FLORENCE THE ORPHAN.
+
+      THE CASTLE AND THE COTTAGE. By _Mrs. Perring_.
+
+      FABULOUS HISTORIES. By _Mrs. Trimmer_.
+
+      SCHOOL DAYS AT HARROW.
+
+      MRS. BARBAULD'S LESSONS.
+
+      HOLIDAYS AT LIMEWOOD.
+
+      TRADITIONS OF PALESTINE. By _Mrs. Martineau_.
+
+
+Routledge's One-Shilling Juveniles.
+
+_Well printed, with Illustrations, 18mo, cloth._
+
+ s. d.
+ 1  0 THE SUNDAY BOOK. In Words of One Syllable. Illust.
+
+      OUR POOR NEIGHBOURS. By _Mrs. Perring_.
+
+      VILLAGE SKETCHES. By the _Rev. C. T. Whitehead_, 1st and 2nd
+      Series, 1_s._ each.
+
+      GRACE GREENWOOD'S STORIES.
+
+      HELEN'S FAULT. By the Author of "Adelaide Lindsay."
+
+      THE COUSINS. By _Miss M'Intosh_.
+
+      BEN HOWARD; or, Truth and Honesty. By _C. Adams_.
+
+      BESSIE AND TOM. A Book for Boys and Girls.
+
+      BEECHNUT. A Franconian Story. By _Jacob Abbott_.
+
+      WALLACE. A Franconian Story. By ditto.
+
+      MADELINE. By ditto.
+
+      MARY ERSKINE. By ditto.
+
+      MARY BELL. By ditto.
+
+      VISIT TO MY BIRTHPLACE. By _Miss Bunbury_.
+
+      CARL KRINKEN; or, The Christmas Stocking.
+
+      MR. RUTHERFORD'S CHILDREN. By ditto.
+
+      MR. RUTHERFORD'S CHILDREN. 2nd Series. By ditto.
+
+      EMILY HERBERT. By _Miss M'Intosh_.
+
+      ROSE AND LILLIE STANHOPE. By ditto.
+
+      CASPAR. By ditto.
+
+      THE BRAVE BOY; or, Christian Heroism.
+
+      MAGDALENE AND RAPHAEL.
+
+      PLEASANT TALES. By _Mrs. Sedgwick_.
+
+      UNCLE FRANK'S HOME STORIES.
+
+      THE GATES AJAR.
+
+      THE STORY OF A MOUSE. By _Mrs. Perring_.
+
+      OUR CHARLIE. By _Mrs. Stowe_.
+
+      VILLAGE SCHOOL FEAST. By _Mrs. Perring_.
+
+      NELLY THE GIPSY GIRL.
+
+      THE BIRTHDAY VISIT. By _Miss Wetherell_.
+
+      STORIES FOR WEEK DAYS AND SUNDAYS.
+
+      MAGGIE AND EMMA. By _Miss M'Intosh_.
+
+      CHARLEY AND GEORGY; or, The Children at Gibraltar.
+
+      THE STORY OF A PENNY. By _Mrs. Perring_.
+
+      AUNT MADDY'S DIAMONDS. By _Harriet Myrtle_.
+
+      TWO SCHOOL GIRLS. By _Miss Wetherell_.
+
+      THE WIDOW AND HER DAUGHTER. By ditto.
+
+      GERTRUDE AND HER BIBLE. By ditto.
+
+      ROSE IN THE DESERT. By ditto.
+
+      THE LITTLE BLACK HEN. By ditto.
+
+      MARTHA AND RACHEL. By ditto.
+
+      THE CARPENTER'S DAUGHTER. By ditto.
+
+      THE PRINCE IN DISGUISE. By ditto.
+
+      THE STORY OF A CAT. By _Mrs. Perring_.
+
+      EASY POETRY FOR CHILDREN. With Coloured Plates.
+
+      THE BASKET OF FLOWERS. With ditto.
+
+      ASHGROVE FARM. By _Mrs. Myrtle_.
+
+      THE STORY OF A DOG. By _Mrs. Perring_.
+
+      THE ANGEL OF THE ICEBERG. By the _Rev. John Todd_.
+
+      RILLS FROM THE FOUNTAIN. A Lesson for the Young.
+
+      TODD'S LECTURES TO CHILDREN. (First Series.)
+
+      TODD'S LECTURES TO CHILDREN. (Second Series.)
+
+      LITTLE POEMS FOR LITTLE READERS.
+
+      MINNIE'S LEGACY.
+
+      NEIGHBOURLY LOVE.
+
+      KITTY'S VICTORY.
+
+      ELISE AND HER RABBITS.
+
+      HAPPY CHARLIE.
+
+      ANNIE PRICE.
+
+      THE LITTLE OXLEYS. By _Mrs. W. Denzey Burton_.
+
+      BOOK OF ONE SYLLABLE. With Coloured Plates.
+
+      LITTLE HELPS. With Coloured Plates.
+
+      UNCLE TOM'S CABIN, for Children.
+
+      AUNT MARGARET'S VISIT.
+
+      KEEPER'S TRAVELS IN SEARCH OF HIS MASTER.
+
+      RICHMOND'S ANNALS OF THE POOR.
+
+      CHILD'S ILLUSTRATED POETRY BOOK.
+
+      THE NEW BOOK OF ONE SYLLABLE.
+
+      BLANCHE AND AGNES.
+
+      THE LOST CHAMOIS-HUNTER.
+
+
+Routledge's New Series of Shilling Toy Books.
+
+_With Large Illustrations by_ H. S. MARKS, J. D. WATSON, H. WEIR, _and_
+KEYL, _Printed in Colours by Kronheim and Others. Demy 4to, stiff
+wrapper; or mounted on Linen, 2s._
+
+ s. d.
+ 1  0 ALPHABET OF TRADES.
+
+      CINDERELLA.*
+
+      ALPHABET OF PRETTY NAMES.
+
+      OLD TESTAMENT ALPHABET.
+
+      THREE LITTLE KITTENS.
+
+      THE HISTORY OF FIVE LITTLE PIGS.*
+
+      TOM THUMB'S ALPHABET.
+
+      NEW TESTAMENT ALPHABET.
+
+      THE CATS' TEA PARTY.*
+
+      OUR FARM-YARD ALPHABET.
+
+      THE HISTORY OF MOSES.
+
+      THE HISTORY OF JOSEPH.
+
+      THE ALPHABET OF FLOWERS.
+
+      NURSERY RHYMES, 2nd Series.
+
+      NURSERY GAMES.
+
+      THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT.
+
+      THE LIFE OF OUR LORD.
+
+      THE THREE BEARS.
+
+      RED RIDING-HOOD.
+
+      NEW TALE OF A TUB.*
+
+      NURSERY TALES.
+
+      OLD MOTHER HUBBARD.
+
+      PICTURES FROM ENGLISH HISTORY, 1st Period.
+
+      PICTURES FROM ENGLISH HISTORY, 2nd Period.
+
+      PICTURES FROM ENGLISH HISTORY, 3rd Period.
+
+      PICTURES FROM ENGLISH HISTORY, 4th Period.
+
+      PUSS IN BOOTS.
+
+      TOM THUMB.
+
+      BABES IN THE WOOD.
+
+      JACK AND THE BEAN-STALK.
+
+      THE LAUGHABLE A B C.
+
+      WILD ANIMALS, 1st Series.*
+
+      WILD ANIMALS, 2nd Series.*
+
+      WILD ANIMALS, 3rd Series.*
+
+      WILD ANIMALS, 4th Series.*
+
+      TAME ANIMALS, 1st Series.*
+
+      TAME ANIMALS, 2nd Series.*
+
+      TAME ANIMALS, 3rd Series.*
+
+      TAME ANIMALS, 4th Series.*
+
+      MY MOTHER.
+
+      THE DOGS' DINNER PARTY.
+
+      LITTLE DOG TRUSTY.
+
+      THE WHITE CAT.
+
+      THE UGLY DUCKLING.
+
+      LITTLE SNOW-WHITE.
+
+      DASH AND THE DUCKLINGS.
+
+* _Those marked with an asterisk are_ NOT _kept on linen._
+
+
+Aunt Mavor's Toy Books.
+
+_Large Coloured Sixpenny Books for Children, with greatly improved
+Illustrations, super-royal 8vo, in wrappers._
+
+ s. d.
+ 0  6 HISTORY OF OUR PETS.
+
+      HISTORY OF BLUE BEARD.
+
+      SINDBAD THE SAILOR.
+
+      A, APPLE PIE.
+
+      TOM THUMB'S ALPHABET.
+
+      BARON MUNCHAUSEN.
+
+      PICTURE ALPHABET.
+
+      ARTHUR'S ALPHABET.
+
+      DOROTHY FRUMP AND HER SIX DOGS.
+
+      SINGING BIRDS.
+
+      PARROTS & TALKING BIRDS.
+
+      DOGS.
+
+      NURSERY RHYMES.
+
+      BIRDS.
+
+      RAILROAD ALPHABET.
+
+      ALPHABET FOR GOOD BOYS AND GIRLS.
+
+      THE SEA-SIDE ALPHABET.
+
+      FARM-YARD ALPHABET.
+
+      GREEDY JEM AND HIS LITTLE BROTHERS.*
+
+      OUR PUSS AND HER KITTENS.*
+
+      HOP O' MY THUMB.
+
+      JACK THE GIANT KILLER.
+
+      LITTLE RED RIDING-HOOD.
+
+      BEAUTY AND THE BEAST.
+
+      HAPPY DAYS OF CHILDHOOD.*
+
+      LITTLE DOG TRUSTY.
+
+      THE CATS' TEA PARTY.
+
+      THE BABES IN THE WOOD.
+
+      WILD ANIMALS.
+
+      BRITISH ANIMALS.
+
+      THE FROG WHO WOULD A-WOOING GO.*
+
+      THE FAITHLESS PARROT.*
+
+      THE FARM-YARD.*
+
+      HORSES.
+
+      OLD DAME TROT.
+
+      MULTIPLICATION TABLE.
+
+      CHATTERING JACK.
+
+      KING COLE.
+
+      PRINCE LONG NOSE.
+
+      THE ENRAGED MILLER.
+
+      THE HUNCHBACK.
+
+      HOW JESSIE WAS LOST.
+
+      GRAMMAR IN RHYME.
+
+      BABY'S BIRTHDAY.*
+
+      PICTURES FROM THE STREETS.*
+
+      LOST ON THE SEA-SHORE.*
+
+      ANIMALS AND BIRDS.*
+
+      A CHILD'S FANCY DRESS BALL.
+
+      A CHILD'S EVENING PARTY.
+
+      ANNIE AND JACK IN LONDON.
+
+      ONE, TWO, BUCKLE MY SHOE.
+
+      MARY'S NEW DOLL.*
+
+      WHEN THE CAT'S AWAY.*
+
+      NAUGHTY PUPPY.*
+
+      CHILDREN'S FAVOURITES.*
+
+      NAUGHTY BOYS AND GIRLS.
+
+      LITTLE MINXES.
+
+      STRUWELPETER.
+
+      LITTLE MINNIE'S CHILD LIFE.
+
+      KING NUTCRACKER.
+
+      LAZY BONES.
+
+      BRITISH SOLDIERS.
+
+      BRITISH SAILORS.
+
+      BRITISH VOLUNTEERS.
+
+      LAUGHTER BOOK FOR CHILDREN.
+
+      GRISLY BEARD.
+
+      RUMPELSTILTSKIN.
+
+      DOG PUFFY.
+
+      THE FAIRY SHIP.
+
+_The above, except those marked with an asterisk, may be had strongly
+mounted on cloth, price One Shilling each._
+
+
+Routledge's New Threepenny Toy Books.
+
+_With Coloured Pictures._
+
+ s. d.
+ 0  3 CINDERELLA.
+
+      RED RIDING-HOOD.
+
+      JACK AND THE BEANSTALK.
+
+      PUSS IN BOOTS.
+
+
+Routledge's Sixpenny Juveniles.
+
+_Royal 32mo, with Illustrations, gilt edges._
+
+ s. d.
+ 0  6 HISTORY OF MY PETS.
+
+      HUBERT LEE.
+
+      ELLEN LESLIE.
+
+      JESSIE GRAHAM.
+
+      FLORENCE ARNOTT.
+
+      BLIND ALICE.
+
+      GRACE AND CLARA.
+
+      RECOLLECTIONS OF MY CHILDHOOD.
+
+      EGERTON ROSCOE.
+
+      FLORA MORTIMER.
+
+      CHARLES HAMILTON.
+
+      STORY OF A DROP OF WATER.
+
+      LEARNING BETTER THAN HOUSES AND LAND.
+
+      MAUD'S FIRST VISIT TO HER AUNT. In Words of One Syllable.
+
+      EASY POEMS.
+
+      THE BOY CAPTIVE. By _Peter Parley_.
+
+      STORIES OF CHILD LIFE.
+
+      DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER.
+
+      ARTHUR'S TALES FOR THE YOUNG.
+
+      HAWTHORNE'S GENTLE BOY.
+
+      PLEASANT AND PROFITABLE.
+
+      THE FALSE KEY.
+
+      THE BRACELETS.
+
+      WASTE NOT, WANT NOT.
+
+      TARLETON, and FORGIVE AND FORGET.
+
+      LAZY LAWRENCE AND THE WHITE PIGEON.
+
+      THE BARRING OUT.
+
+      THE ORPHANS AND OLD POZ.
+
+      THE MIMIC.
+
+      THE PURPLE JAR, and other Tales.
+
+      PARLEY'S POETRY & PROSE.
+
+      ARTHUR'S STORIES FOR LITTLE GIRLS.
+
+      THE YOUNG COTTAGER.
+
+      PARLEY'S THOS. TITMOUSE.
+
+      ARTHUR'S CHRISTMAS STORY.
+
+      THE LOST LAMB.
+
+      ARTHUR'S STORIES FOR LITTLE BOYS.
+
+      ARTHUR'S ORGAN BOY.
+
+      MARGARET JONES.
+
+      THE TWO SCHOOL GIRLS.
+
+      THE WIDOW AND HER DAUGHTER.
+
+      THE ROSE IN THE DESERT.
+
+      THE BIRTHDAY PRESENT and THE BASKET WOMAN.
+
+      SIMPLE SUSAN.
+
+      THE LITTLE MERCHANTS.
+
+      TALE OF THE UNIVERSE.
+
+      ROBERT DAWSON.
+
+      KATE CAMPBELL.
+
+      BASKET OF FLOWERS.
+
+      BABES IN THE BASKET.
+
+      THE JEWISH TWINS.
+
+      CHILDREN ON THE PLAINS.
+
+      LITTLE HENRY AND HIS BEARER.
+
+      THE LITTLE BLACK HEN.
+
+      MARTHA AND RACHEL.
+
+      CARPENTER'S DAUGHTER.
+
+      THE PRINCE IN DISGUISE.
+
+      GERTRUDE AND HER BIBLE.
+
+      THE CONTRAST. _Miss Edgeworth._
+
+      THE GRATEFUL NEGRO. _Do._
+
+      JANE HUDSON.
+
+      A KISS FOR A BLOW.
+
+      YOUNG NEGRO SERVANT.
+
+      LINA AND HER COUSINS.
+
+      ARTHUR'S LAST PENNY.
+
+      BRIGHT-EYED BESSIE.
+
+      THE GATES AJAR.
+
+
+Routledge's Fourpenny Juveniles.
+
+_Royal 32mo, fancy covers._
+
+ s. d.
+ 0  4 THE BASKET OF FLOWERS.
+
+      THE BABES IN THE BASKET.
+
+      EASY POEMS FOR CHILDREN.
+
+      JESSIE GRAHAM.
+
+      HISTORY OF MY PETS.
+
+      FLORENCE ARNOTT.
+
+      ROBERT DAWSON.
+
+      RECOLLECTIONS OF MY CHILDHOOD.
+
+      BROOKE AND BROOKE FARM.
+
+      LIFE IN THE WILDS.
+
+      HILL AND THE VALLEY.
+
+      THE WIDOW AND HER DAUGHTER.
+
+      THE TWO SCHOOL GIRLS.
+
+      THE JANE HUDSON.
+
+      A KISS FOR A BLOW.
+
+      HUBERT LEE.
+
+      FLORA MORTIMER.
+
+      A DROP OF WATER.
+
+      THE FALSE KEY.
+
+      THE BRACELETS.
+
+      THE PURPLE JAR.
+
+      SIMPLE SUSAN.
+
+      KATE CAMPBELL.
+
+      LITTLE HENRY AND HIS BEARER.
+
+      THE GATES AJAR.
+
+
+Routledge's Five-Shilling Poets.
+
+_Edited by Rev._ R. A. WILLMOTT. _Illustrated by_ FOSTER, GILBERT,
+CORBOULD, FRANKLIN, _and_ HARVEY. _Elegantly printed on good paper, post
+8vo, gilt edges, bevelled boards._
+
+ s. d.
+ 5  0 SPENSER'S FAERIE QUEENE. Illustrated by Corbould.
+
+      CHAUCER'S CANTERBURY TALES. Illustrated by ditto.
+
+      KIRKE WHITE. By _Southey_. Illustrated by Birket Foster.
+
+      SOUTHEY'S JOAN OF ARC, AND MINOR POEMS. Illustrated by Gilbert.
+
+      POPE'S POETICAL WORKS. Edited by Carey.
+
+      MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. Illustrated by Harvey.
+
+      THOMSON, BEATTIE, AND WEST. Illust. by Birket Foster.
+
+      HERBERT. With Life and Notes by _Rev. R. A. Willmott_.
+
+      COWPER. Illust. by Birket Foster. Edited by _Willmott_.
+
+      LONGFELLOW'S COMPLETE POETICAL WORKS. Illustrated.
+
+      LONGFELLOW'S PROSE WORKS.
+
+      BURNS' POETICAL WORKS. Illustrated by John Gilbert.
+
+      FAIRFAX'S TASSO'S JERUSALEM DELIVERED. Illustrated by Corbould.
+
+      PERCY'S RELIQUES OF ANCIENT POETRY. Illust. by ditto.
+
+      SCOTT'S POETICAL WORKS. Illustrated by ditto.
+
+      MACKAY'S BALLADS AND LYRICS. Illust. by John Gilbert.
+
+      WORDSWORTH. Illustrated by Birket Foster.
+
+      CRABBE. Illustrated by ditto.
+
+      MACKAY'S SONGS. Complete Edition. Illust. by Gilbert.
+
+      ELIZA COOK'S POEMS. With Illustrations and Portrait.
+
+      MOORE'S POEMS. Illustrated by Corbould, &c.
+
+      BYRON'S POEMS. Illustrated by Gilbert, Wolf, Foster.
+
+      BENNETT'S POETICAL WORKS. Portrait and Illustrations.
+
+      CAMPBELL'S POETICAL WORKS. Illustrated by W. Harvey.
+
+      LOVER'S POETICAL WORKS. Portrait and Illustrations.
+
+      ROGERS' POETICAL WORKS. With Portrait, &c.
+
+      LORD LYTTON'S POETICAL WORKS. 7_s._ 6_d._
+
+      LORD LYTTON'S DRAMATIC WORKS. 6_s._
+
+      DRYDEN'S POETICAL WORKS. With Portrait, &c.
+
+
+Routledge's Three-and-Sixpenny Poets, &c.
+
+_Printed on tinted paper, fcap. 8vo, gilt edges. With Illustrations._
+
+ s. d.
+ 3  6 LONGFELLOW'S COMPLETE POETICAL WORKS. Illust.
+
+      COWPER. Illust. by Birket Foster. Edited by _Willmott_.
+
+      MILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. Illustrated by Harvey.
+
+      WORDSWORTH'S POETICAL WORKS. Illust. by B. Foster.
+
+      SOUTHEY'S JOAN OF ARC, AND MINOR POEMS. Illust. by Gilbert.
+
+      GOLDSMITH, JOHNSON, SHENSTONE, AND SMOLLETT. Do.
+
+      KIRKE WHITE. By _Southey_. Illustrated by Birket Foster.
+
+      BURNS. Illustrated by Gilbert.
+
+      THOMAS MOORE'S POEMS. Illustrated by Corbould.
+
+      BYRON'S POEMS. Illustrated by Gilbert, Wolf, &c.
+
+      POPE'S POETICAL WORKS. Illustrated by Gilbert.
+
+      SCOTT'S POETICAL WORKS. With Illustrations.
+
+      HERBERT'S WORKS. With Illustrations.
+
+      THOMAS CAMPBELL'S POETICAL WORKS. Illust. by Gilbert.
+
+      SHAKESPEARE'S COMPLETE WORKS.
+
+      CHAUCER'S POETICAL WORKS.
+
+      WILLIS'S POETICAL WORKS.
+
+      GOLDEN GLEANINGS.
+
+      CHOICE POEMS AND LYRICS.
+
+      SHAKESPEARE GEMS.
+
+      BOOK OF WIT AND HUMOUR.
+
+      WISE SAYINGS OF THE GREAT AND GOOD.
+
+      MONTGOMERY'S POEMS.
+
+
+Routledge's Two-and-Sixpenny Poets.
+
+_Fcap. 8vo, with Illustrations, in cloth._
+
+ s. d.
+ 2  6 LONGFELLOW'S COMPLETE POETICAL WORKS.
+
+      SCOTT'S POEMS.
+
+      BYRON'S POEMS.
+
+      COWPER'S POEMS.
+
+      WORDSWORTH'S POEMS.
+
+      BURNS' POEMS.
+
+      MOORE'S POEMS.
+
+      MILTON'S POEMS.
+
+      POPE'S POEMS.
+
+_Or bound in a new style, 8 vols., cloth, L1._
+
+
+Routledge's Pocket Poets.
+
+_18mo, with Portrait._
+
+ s. d.
+ 1  0 LONGFELLOW'S COMPLETE POETICAL WORKS. Paper, 1_s._; cloth, 1_s._
+      6_d._
+
+      BURNS' COMPLETE POETICAL WORKS. Paper, 1_s._; cloth, 1_s._ 6_d._
+
+      SCOTT'S POETICAL WORKS. Cloth, 1_s._
+
+
+London: THE BROADWAY, LUDGATE HILL.
+New York: 416, BROOME STREET.
+
+J. OGDEN AND CO., PRINTERS, 172, ST. JOHN STREET E C.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Carpenter's Daughter, by
+Anna Bartlett Warner and Susan Bogert Warner
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CARPENTER'S DAUGHTER ***
+
+***** This file should be named 22061.txt or 22061.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        http://www.gutenberg.org/2/2/0/6/22061/
+
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