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diff --git a/22061.txt b/22061.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..811faef --- /dev/null +++ b/22061.txt @@ -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. + + + + +GEORGE ROUTLEDGE & SONS' JUVENILE BOOKS. + + s. d. + 8 6 EVERY BOY'S BOOK. Edited by _Edmund Routledge_. A New Edition, + Re-written and Revised. 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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. 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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. 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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. 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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. 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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. 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