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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/35983-h.zip b/35983-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..eccd01c --- /dev/null +++ b/35983-h.zip diff --git a/35983-h/35983-h.htm b/35983-h/35983-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6bcca88 --- /dev/null +++ b/35983-h/35983-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,4429 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Little Nettie by Susan Bogert Warner, & Anna Bartlett Warner.</title> +<style type="text/css"> + body {background:#fdfdfd; + color:black; + font-size: large; + margin-top:100px; + margin-left:15%; + margin-right:15%; + text-align:justify; } + h1, h2, h3, h4, h5, h6 {text-align: center; } + hr.narrow { width: 40%; + text-align: center; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; } + hr.minimal { width: 25%; + text-align: center; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; } + hr { width: 100%; } + hr.full { width: 100%; + margin-top: 3em; + margin-bottom: 0em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + height: 3px; + border-width: 4px 0 0 0; /* remove all borders except the top one */ + border-style: solid; + border-color: #000000; + clear: both; } + table {font-size: large; } + table.sm {font-size: medium; } + td.w50 { width: 50%; } + p {text-indent: 3%; } + p.noindent { text-indent: 0%; } + .big { font-size: 130%} + .caption { font-size: small; + font-weight: bold; } + .center { text-align: center; } + img { border: 0; } + .figleft { float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-top: + .25em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + .ind1 { margin-left: 1em; } + ins { text-decoration: none; border-bottom: thin dotted gray;} + .nowrap { white-space: nowrap; } + .right { text-align: right; } + .small { font-size: 85%; } + .smallcaps { font-variant: small-caps; } + a:link {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + link {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + a:visited {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + a:hover {color:red; + text-decoration: underline; } + pre {font-size: 70%; } +</style> +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Little Nettie, by +Susan Bogert Warner and Anna Bartlett 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: Little Nettie + or, Home Sunshine + +Author: Susan Bogert Warner + Anna Bartlett Warner + +Release Date: April 27, 2011 [EBook #35983] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LITTLE NETTIE *** + + + + +Produced by Delphine Lettau and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + +<hr class="full" /> +<p> </p> +<h1>LITTLE NETTIE.</h1> +<p> </p> +<div class="center"> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4" summary="Illustration"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/i002.jpg"> + <img src="images/i002.jpg" height="500" + alt="BOOK COVER" /></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="center"><span class="small">MR. MATHIESON STALKED OUT OF THE HOUSE<br /> +AND STRODE ALONG THE ROAD.</span><br /> + <span class="caption">Click to <a href="images/i002.jpg">ENLARGE</a></span> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> +<p> </p> +<hr class="narrow" /> +<p> </p> + +<h2><span class="wide">LITTLE NETTIE;</span></h2> +<h5>OR,</h5> +<h3>HOME SUNSHINE.</h3> +<p> </p> + +<h4>BY THE AUTHOR OF "THE WIDE, WIDE WORLD,"</h4> +<h6>ETC., ETC.</h6> +<p> </p> +<div class="center"> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4" summary="Illustration"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/i003.jpg"> + <img src="images/i003.jpg" height="80" + alt="DECORATION" /></a> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> +<h4>LONDON:</h4> +<h3><span class="wide">FREDERICK WARNE & CO.</span></h3> +<h4>AND NEW YORK.</h4> +<p> </p> +<div class="center"> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4" summary="Illustration"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/i005.jpg"> + <img src="images/i005.jpg" height="55" + alt="DECORATION" /></a> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> + +<p> </p> +<h3>CONTENTS.</h3> + +<div class="center"> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="2" summary="Contents"> +<tr><td align="right">I.—</td><td align="left"><a href="#ch_1"><i>Saturday Evening's Work</i></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">II.—</td><td align="left"><a href="#ch_2"><i>Sunday's Rest</i></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"> III.—</td><td align="left"><a href="#ch_3"><i>Nettie's Garret</i></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">IV.—</td><td align="left"><a href="#ch_4"><i>The Brown Cloak in November</i></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">V.—</td><td align="left"><a href="#ch_5"><i>The New Blanket</i></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">VI.—</td><td align="left"><a href="#ch_6"><i>The House-Raising</i></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">VII.—</td><td align="left"><a href="#ch_7"><i>The Waffles</i></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">VIII.—</td><td align="left"><a href="#ch_8"><i>The Golden City</i></a></td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<p> </p> +<div class="center"> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4" summary="Decoration"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/i005a.jpg"> + <img src="images/i005a.jpg" height="40" + alt="DECORATION" /></a> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> +<p> </p> +<hr class="minimal" /> +<p> </p> +<div class="center"> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4" summary="Decoration"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/i007.jpg"> + <img src="images/i007.jpg" height="100" + alt="DECORATION" /></a> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> +<p> </p> + +<h2><span class="wide">LITTLE NETTIE;</span></h2> +<div class="center"> +<p class="noindent"><span class="small">OR,</span><br /><br /> +<span class="big">HOME SUNSHINE.</span></p> +</div> + +<hr class="minimal" /> +<p> </p> +<h3><a name="ch_1" id="ch_1"></a>CHAPTER I.</h3> +<div class="center"> +<p class="noindent"><i><span class="small">SATURDAY EVENING'S WORK.</span></i></p> + +<p class="noindent"><span class="small">"Tender and only beloved in the sight of my mother."—<i>Prov.</i> iv. 3.</span></p> +</div> +<div class="figleft" style="width: 80px;"> +<img src="images/i007a.jpg" width="90" alt="D" title="" /> +</div><div class="noindent">own 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.</div> + +<p>On one side of the little stream a worn footpath +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 girl turned and went up the path +again. After getting up the bank, which was only +a few feet, the path still went gently rising through +a wild bit of ground, full of trees and low bushes; +and not far off, through the trees, there came a +gleam of bright light from the window of a house +on which the setting sun was shining. Half-way +to the house the girl and the woman stopped to +rest; for water is heavy, and the tin pail, which +was so light before it was filled, had made the +little girl's figure bend over to one side like a +willow branch all the way from the spring. They +stopped to rest, and even the woman had a very +weary, jaded look.</p> + +<p>"I feel as if I shall give up some of these days," +she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Oh, 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.</p> + +<p>"I shall," said the woman. "One can't stand +everything,—for ever."</p> + +<p>The little girl had not got over panting yet, +but standing there, she struck up the sweet air +and words,—</p> + +<div class="center"> +<table class="sm" style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="1" summary="poem"> +<tr><td align="left">"'There is rest for the weary,</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> There is rest for the weary,</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> There is rest for the weary,</td></tr> +<tr><td align="center">There is rest for you.'"</td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<p>"Yes, in the grave!" said the woman bitterly. +"There's no rest short of that—for mind or +body."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, mother dear. 'For we which have +believed do enter into rest.' The Lord Jesus don't +make us wait."</p> + +<p>"I believe you eat the Bible and sleep on +the Bible," said the woman, with a faint smile, +taking at the same time a corner of her apron to +wipe away a stray tear which had gathered in her +eye. "I am glad it rests you, Nettie."</p> + +<p>"And you, mother."</p> + +<p>"Sometimes," Mrs. Mathieson answered with +a sigh. "But there's your father going to bring +home a boarder, Nettie."</p> + +<p>"A boarder, mother!—What for?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Who is it, mother?"</p> + +<p>"It's one of your father's friends; so it's no +good," said Mrs. Mathieson.</p> + +<p>"But where can he sleep?" Nettie asked, after +a moment of thinking.</p> + +<p>Her mother paused.</p> + +<p>"There's no room but yours he can have. +Barry won't be moved."</p> + +<p>"Where shall I sleep, mother?"</p> + +<p>"There's no place but up in the attic. I'll see +what I can do to fit up a corner for you—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,</p> + +<p>"Don't you go to fit up the attic, mother; I'll +see to it in time. I can do it just as well."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Mathieson made no answer, but groaned +internally, and they went up the flight of steps +which led to their part of the house. The ground +floor was occupied by somebody else. A little +entry-way 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.</p> + +<p>"Mother, what is there for supper?"</p> + +<p>"There is nothing. I must make some porridge." +And Mrs. Mathieson got up from her +chair.</p> + +<p>"Sit you still, mother, and I'll make it. I can."</p> + +<p>"If both our backs are to be broken," said Mrs. +Mathieson, "I'd rather mine would break first." +And she went on with her preparations.</p> + +<p>"But you don't like porridge," said Nettie. +"You didn't eat anything last night."</p> + +<p>"That's nothing, child. I can bear an empty +stomach, if only my brain wasn't quite so full."</p> + +<p>Nettie drew near the stove and looked on, a +little sorrowfully.</p> + +<p>"I wish you had something you liked, mother! +If only I was a little older, wouldn't it be nice? +I could earn something then, and I would bring +you home things that you liked out of my own +money."</p> + +<p>This was not said sorrowfully, but with a bright +gleam as of some fancied and pleasant possibility. +The gleam was so catching, Mrs. Mathieson turned +from her porridge-pot, which she was stirring, to +give a very heartfelt kiss to Nettie's lips; then she +stirred on, and the shadow came over her face +again.</p> + +<p>"Dear," she said, "just go in Barry's room and +straighten it up a little before he comes in—will +you? I haven't had a minute to do it, all day; +and there won't be a bit of peace if he comes in +and it isn't in order."</p> + +<p>Nettie turned and opened another door, which +let her into a small chamber used as somebody's +bed-room. 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 bed-clothes 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 tails, 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 she 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 +she 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 feelings, that she began softly to +sing to herself,—</p> + +<div class="center"> + <p class="noindent"> + <span class="small">"'There is rest for the weary.'"</span> + </p> +</div> + +<p>"Hallo!" burst in a rude boy of some fifteen +years, opening the door from the entry,—"who's +puttin' my room to rights?"</p> + +<p>A very gentle voice said, "I've done it, Barry."</p> + +<p>"What have you done with that pine log?"</p> + +<p>"Here it is,—in the corner behind the bureau."</p> + +<p>"Don't you touch it, now, to take it for your +fire,—mind, Nettie! Where's my kite?"</p> + +<p>"You won't have time to fly it now, Barry; +supper will be ready in two minutes."</p> + +<p>"What have you got?"</p> + +<p>"The same kind we had last night."</p> + +<p>"<i>I</i> don't care for supper." Barry was getting +the tail of his kite together.</p> + +<p>"But please, Barry, come now; because it will +give mother so much more trouble if you don't. +She has the things to clear away after you're +done, you know."</p> + +<p>"Trouble! so much talk about trouble! <i>I</i> don't +mind trouble. I don't want any supper, I tell +you."</p> + +<p>Nettie knew well enough he would want it by-and-bye, +but there was no use in saying anything +more, and she said nothing. Barry got his kite together +and went off. Then came a heavier step on +the stairs, which she knew; and she hastily went +into the other room to see that all was ready. The +tea was made, and Mrs. Mathieson put the smoking +dish of porridge on the table, just as the door +opened and a man came in—a tall, burly, strong +man, with a face that would have been a good face +enough if its expression had been different and +if its hue had not been that of a purplish-red flush. +He came to the table and silently sat down as +he took a survey of what was on it.</p> + +<p>"Give me a cup of tea! Have you got no +bread, Sophia?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing but what you see. I hoped you +would bring home some money, Mr. Mathieson. +I have neither milk nor bread; it's a mercy there's +sugar. I don't know what you expect a lodger +to live on."</p> + +<p>"Live on his board,—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 confoundedly +tired, I can't."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Mathieson, without a word, put on a shawl +and went to the closet for her bonnet.</p> + +<p>"I'll go, mother! Let me go, please. I want +to go," exclaimed Nettie, eagerly. "I can get it. +What shall I get, father?"</p> + +<p>Slowly and weariedly the mother laid off her +things; as quickly the child put hers on.</p> + +<p>"What shall I get, father?"</p> + +<p>"Well, you can go down the street to Jackson's, +and get what your mother wants: some milk and +bread; and then you'd better fetch seven pounds +of meal and a quart of treacle. And ask him to +give you a nice piece of pork out of his barrel."</p> + +<p>"She can't bring all that!" exclaimed the +mother; "you'd better go yourself, Mr. Mathieson. +That would be a great deal more than the +child can carry, or I either."</p> + +<p>"Then I'll go twice, mother: it isn't far; I'd +like to go. I'll get it. Please give me the +money, father."</p> + +<p>He cursed and swore at her for answer. "Go +along, and do as you are bid, without all this +chaffering! Go to Jackson's, and tell him you +want the things, and I'll give him the money +to-morrow. He knows me."</p> + +<p>Nettie knew he did, and stood her ground.</p> + +<p>Her father was just enough in liquor to be a +little thick-headed and foolish.</p> + +<p>"You know I can't go without the money, +father," she said, gently; "and to-morrow is +Sunday."</p> + +<p>He cursed Sunday and swore again, but finally +put his hand in his pocket and threw some +money across the table to her. He was just in +a state not to be careful what he did, and he +threw her crown-pieces where, if he had been +quite himself, he would have given shillings. +Nettie took them without any remark, and her +basket, and went out.</p> + +<p>It was just sundown. The village lay glittering +in the light that would be gone in a few +minutes; and up on the hill the white church, +standing high, showed all bright in the sun-beams, +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 side-walks, 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 shabby, 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 indeed went to the wants of his +wife and daughter. What might Nettie do! +She pondered, swinging her basket in her hand, +till she reached a corner where the village street +turned off again, and where the store of Mr. +Jackson stood. There she found Barry bargaining +for some things he at least had money for.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Barry, how good!" exclaimed Nettie; +"you can help me carry my things home."</p> + +<p>"I'll know the reason first, though," answered +Barry. "What are you going to get?"</p> + +<p>"Father wants a bag of corn-meal, and a piece +of pork, and some treacle; and you know I +can't carry them all, Barry. I've got to get bread +and milk besides."</p> + +<p>"Hurrah!" 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."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I can't, Barry! I've got so much else to +do, and it's Saturday night."</p> + +<p>"Very good—get your things home yourself, +then."</p> + +<p>Barry turned away, and Nettie made her bargains. +He still stood by, however, and watched +her. When the pork and the meal and the treacle +were bestowed in the basket, it was so heavy +she could not manage to carry it. How many +journeys to and fro would it cost her?</p> + +<p>"Barry," she said, "you take this home for +me, and if mother says so, I'll make you the +cakes."</p> + +<p>"Be quick, then," said her brother, shouldering +the basket, "for I'm getting hungry."</p> + +<p>Nettie went a few steps farther 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, but rather slowly.</p> + +<p>"I want two loaves of bread, Mrs. August, and +a pint of milk, if you please."</p> + +<p>"How will you carry them, my child? you +cannot take them all at the time."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, I can," said Nettie, cheerfully. "I +can manage. They are not heavy."</p> + +<p>"No, I hope not," said the Frenchwoman; "it +is not heavy, my bread! but two loaves are not +one, no more. Is your mother well?"</p> + +<p>She then set busily about wrapping the loaves +in paper and measuring out the milk. Nettie +answered, her mother was well.</p> + +<p>"And you?" said the little woman, looking +at her sideways. "Somebody is tired this evening."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Nettie, brightly; "but I don't +mind. One must be tired sometimes. Thank +you, ma'am."</p> + +<p>The woman had put the loaves and the milk +carefully in her arms and in her hands, so that +she could carry them, and looked after her as she +went up the street.</p> + +<p>"One must be tired sometimes!" said she to +herself, with a turn of her capable little head. "I +should like to hear her say 'One must be rested +sometimes;' but I do not hear that."</p> + +<p>So perhaps Nettie thought, as she went homeward. +It would have been very natural. Now +the sun was down, the bright gleam was off the +village; the soft shades of evening were gathering, +and lights twinkled in windows. Nettie +walked very slowly, her arms full of the bread. +Perhaps she wished her Saturday's work was all +done, like other people's. All I can tell you is, +that as she went along through the quiet deserted +street, all alone, she broke out softly singing +to herself the words,—</p> + +<div class="center"> +<table class="sm" style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="2" summary="poem"> +<tr><td align="left">"No need of the sun in that day</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> Which never is followed by night;"</td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<p>and that when she got home she ran upstairs +quite briskly, and came in with a very placid +face, and told her mother she had had a pleasant +walk—which was perfectly true.</p> + +<p>"God bless you, child!" said her mother; "you +are the very rose of my heart!"</p> + +<p>There was only time for this little dialogue, for +which Mr. Mathieson's slumbers had given a +chance. But then Barry entered, and noisily +claimed Nettie's promise. And without a cloud +crossing her sweet brow, she made the cakes, +and baked them on the stove, and served Barry +until he had enough; nor ever said how weary +she was of being on her feet. There were more +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 darns and patches on +various articles of clothing, till the old clock of +the church on the hill tolled out solemnly the +hour of twelve all over the village.</p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="minimal" /> +<div class="center"> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4" summary="Illustration"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/i025.jpg"> + <img src="images/i025.jpg" height="120" + alt="DECORATION" /></a> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> +<h3><a name="ch_2" id="ch_2"></a>CHAPTER II.</h3> +<div class="center"> +<p class="noindent"><i><span class="small">SUNDAY'S REST.</span></i><br /> +<br /> +<span class="small">"This is the day which the Lord hath made; we will rejoice</span><br /> +<span class="small">and be glad in it."—<i>Psalm</i> cxviii, 24.</span></p> +</div> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 80px;"> +<img src="images/i059a.jpg" width="90" alt="N" title="" /> +</div><div class="noindent">ettie'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.</div> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>It was a comfort; but it was the only one +Nettie could think of in connection 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 asleep, +and forgot to think about it.</p> + +<p>The next thing was the bright morning light +rousing her, and the joyful thought that it was +Sunday morning. A beautiful day it was. The +eastern light was shining over upon Nettie's +distant hills with all sorts of fresh, lovely colours, +and promise of what the coming hours would +bring. Nettie looked at them lovingly, for she +was very fond of 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 joyful things; for +when she knelt down to pray she was full of +thanksgiving.</p> + +<p>The next thing was that, taking her tin pail, +Nettie set off down to the spring to get water to +boil her 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.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Mathieson opened it, in her night-gown; +she was just up, and looked as if her night's sleep +had been all too short for her.</p> + +<p>"Why, Nettie! is it late?" she said, as Nettie +and the tin pail came in.</p> + +<p>"No, mother; it's just good time. You get +dressed, and I'll make the fire ready. It's beautiful +out, mother!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Mathieson made no answer, and Nettie +went to work with the fire. It was an easy +matter to put in some paper and kindle the light +wood; and when the kettle was on, Nettie went +round the room, softly setting it to rights as well +as she could; then glanced at her father, still +sleeping.</p> + +<p>"I can't set the table yet, mother."</p> + +<p>"No, child; go off, and I'll see to the rest.—If +I can get folks up, at least," said Mrs. Mathieson, +somewhat despondingly.</p> + +<p>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 room there was to bestow anything.</p> + +<p>The little garret was strewn all over with things +carelessly thrown in merely to get them out of +the way. There was a small shutter window in +each gable. One was open, just revealing the +utter confusion, but half showing the dust that +lay on everything. The other window, the back +one, was fairly shut up by a great heap of boxes +and barrels piled against it. In no part was +there a 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 do it," she thought. It nerved her little arm, +and one thought of her invisible Protector nerved +her heart, which had sunk at first coming up. +Softly she moved and began her operations, lest +her mother downstairs should hear and find out +what she was about before it was done. Sunday +too! But there was no help for it.</p> + +<p>Notwithstanding the pile of boxes, she resolved +to begin at the end with the closed window; for +near the other there were things she could not +move: an old stove, a wheelbarrow, a box of heavy +iron tools, and some bags of charcoal, and other +matters. By a little pushing and coaxing, Nettie +made a place for the boxes, and then began her +task of removing them. One by one, painfully, +for some were unwieldy and some were weighty, +they travelled across in Nettie's arms, or were +shoved and turned over and 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 expected from either of them, and the very +thought of them did not come into her head. +Mr. Mathieson, provided he worked at his trade, +thought the "women folks" might look after the +house; Barry considered that when he had got +through the heavy labours of school, he had done +his part of the world's work. So Nettie toiled +on with her boxes and barrels. They scratched +her arms; they covered her clean face with dust; +they tried her strength; but every effort saved +one to her mother, and Nettie never stopped +except to gather breath and rest.</p> + +<p>The last thing of all under the window was a +great old chest. Nettie could not move it, and +she thought 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.</p> + +<p>There was a good deal to do yet before she +could have a place clear for her bed, not to speak +of anything more. However, it was done at last, +the floor brushed up, all ready, and the top of +the chest wiped clean; and next Nettie set about +bringing all her things up the stairs and setting +them here, where she could. Her clothes, her +little bit of a looking-glass, her Bible and books +and slate, even her little washstand, she managed +to lug up to the attic, with many a journey and +much pains. But it was about done before her +mother called her to breakfast. The two lagging +members of the family had been roused at last, +and were seated at the table.</p> + +<p>"Why, what have you been doing, child? how +you look!" said Mrs. Mathieson.</p> + +<p>"How do I look?" said Nettie.</p> + +<p>"Queer enough," said her father.</p> + +<p>Nettie laughed, and hastened to another subject: +she knew if they got upon this there would +be some disagreeable words before it was over. +She had made up her mind what to do, and now +handed her father the money remaining from her +purchases.</p> + +<p>"You gave me too much, father, last night," +she said, simply; "here is the rest."</p> + +<p>Mr. Mathieson took it and looked at it.</p> + +<p>"Did I give you all this?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, father."</p> + +<p>"Did you pay for what you got, besides?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>He muttered something which was very like +an oath in his throat, and looked at his little +daughter, who was quietly eating her breakfast. +Something touched him unwontedly.</p> + +<p>"You're an honest little girl," he said. "There! +you may have that for yourself." And he tossed +her a shilling.</p> + +<p>You could see, by a little streak of pink colour +down each of Nettie's cheeks, that some great +thought of pleasure had started into her mind. +"For myself, father?" she repeated.</p> + +<p>"All for yourself," said Mr. Mathieson, buttoning +up his money with a very satisfied air.</p> + +<p>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 <i>that</i> morning.</p> + +<p>This was Nettie's happy time. It never troubled +her that she had nothing but a sun-bonnet +of white muslin, nicely starched and ironed, while +almost all the other girls that came to the school +had little straw bonnets trimmed with blue and +pink, and yellow and green ribbons; and some of +them wore silk bonnets. Nettie did not even +think of it; she loved her Sunday lesson, and +her Bible, and her teacher, so much; and it was +such a pleasant time when she went to enjoy +them all together. It was only a little way she +had to go, for the road where Mrs. Mathieson +lived, after running down a little farther from +the village, met another road which turned right +up the hill to the church; or Nettie could take +the other way, to the main village street, and +straight up that. Generally she chose the forked +way, because it was the emptiest.</p> + +<p>Nettie's class in the Sunday school was of ten +little girls about her own age; and their teacher +was a very pleasant and kind gentleman, named +Mr. Folke. Nettie loved him dearly; she would +do anything that Mr. Folke told her to do. +Their teacher was very apt to give the children +a question to answer from the Bible, for which +they had to look out texts during the week. This +week the question was, "Who are happy?" and +Nettie was very eager to know what answers the +other girls would bring. She was in good time, +and sat resting and watching the boys and girls +and teachers as they came in, before the school +began. She was first there of all her class; and +she watched so eagerly to see those who were +coming, that she did not know Mr. Folke was +near till he spoke to her. Nettie started and +turned.</p> + +<p>"How do you do?" said her teacher, kindly. +"Are you quite well, Nettie, this morning?" +For he thought she looked pale and tired. But +her face coloured with pleasure, and a smile +shone all over it, as she told him she was very +well.</p> + +<p>"Have you found out who are the happy +people, Nettie?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Mr. Folke; I have found a verse. But +I knew before."</p> + +<p>"I thought you did. Who are they, Nettie?"</p> + +<p>"Those who love Jesus, sir."</p> + +<p>"Ay. In the Christian armour, you know, the +feet are 'shod with the preparation of the Gospel +of peace.' With the love of Jesus in our hearts, +our feet can go over rough ways and hardly feel +that they are rough. Do you find it so?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, sir!"</p> + +<p>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 +St. Matthew, about the poor in spirit, the mourners, +the meek, those that hunger and thirst after +righteousness, the merciful, the pure in heart, and +the peacemakers. Then came Nettie's verse. It +was this:</p> + +<p>"Happy is he that hath the God of Jacob for +his help, whose hope is in the Lord his God."</p> + +<p>The next girl gave the words of Jesus, "If ye +know these things, happy are ye if ye do them."</p> + +<p>The last gave "Blessed is he whose transgression +is forgiven, whose sin is covered."</p> + +<p>Then came Mr. Folke's verse, and Netty +thought it was the most beautiful of all.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Then Mr. Folke talked about that city—its +streets of gold, and the gates of pearl, through +which nothing that defileth can by any means +enter. He told how Jesus will make His people +happy there; how they will be with Him, and +all their tears wiped away. And Jesus will be +their Shepherd; His sheep will not wander from +Him any more; "and they shall see His face, +and His name shall be in their foreheads."</p> + +<p>From school they went to church, of course. +A strange clergyman 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,—</p> + +<div class="center"> +<table class="sm" style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="2" summary="poem"> +<tr><td align="left">"Jesus all the day long</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> Is my joy and my song;</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> O that all His salvation might see!"</td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<p>So, thinking busily, Nettie got home and ran +upstairs. What a change! It looked like a +place very, very far from those gates of pearl.</p> + +<p>Her mother sat on one side of the stove, not +dressed for church, and leaning her head on her +hand. Mr. Mathieson was on the other side, +talking and angry. Barry stood back, playing +ball by himself by throwing it up and catching +it again. The talk stopped at Nettie's entrance. +She threw off her bonnet and began to set the +table, hoping that would bring peace.</p> + +<p>"Your father don't want any dinner," said +Mrs. Mathieson.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I do!" thundered her husband; "but I +tell you I'll not take anything now; so leave your +cooking till supper—when Lumber will be here. +Go on, child, and get your work done."</p> + +<p>There were no preparations for dinner, and +Nettie was at a loss, and did not like to say +anything for fear of bringing on a storm. Her +mother looked both weary and out of temper. +The kettle was boiling, the only thing about the +room that had a pleasant seeming.</p> + +<p>"Will you have a cup of tea, father?" said +Nettie.</p> + +<p>"Anything you like—yes, a cup of tea will +do; and hark ye, child, I want a good stout +supper got this afternoon. Your mother don't +choose to hear me. Mr. Lumber is coming, and +I want a good supper to make him think he's +got to the right place. Do you hear, Nettie?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, father."</p> + +<p>Nettie went on to do the best she could. She +warmed the remains of last night's porridge, and +gave it to Barry, with treacle, to keep him quiet. +Meanwhile she had made the tea, and toasted a +slice of bread very nicely, though with great +pains, for the fire wasn't good; and the toast +and a cup of tea she gave to her father. He ate +it with an eagerness which let Nettie know she +must make another slice as fast as possible.</p> + +<p>"Hallo! Nettie—I say, give us some of that, +will you?" said Barry, finding his porridge poor +in taste.</p> + +<p>"Barry, there isn't bread enough—I can't," +whispered Nettie. "We've got to keep a loaf +for supper."</p> + +<p>"Eat what you've got, or let it alone!" thundered +Mr. Mathieson, in the way he had when he +was out of patience, and which always tried +Nettie exceedingly.</p> + +<p>"She's got more," said Barry. "She's toasting +two pieces this minute. I want one."</p> + +<p>"I'll knock you over if you say another word," +said his father.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Have you got all ready for Mr. Lumber?" +he said, in a tone of voice very unwilling to be +pleased.</p> + +<p>"No," said his wife,—"I have had no chance. +I have been cooking and clearing up all the +morning. His room isn't ready."</p> + +<p>"Well, you had better get it ready pretty +quick. What's to do?"</p> + +<p>"Everything's to do," said Mrs. Mathieson.</p> + +<p>He swore at her. "Why can't you answer a +plain question? I say, <i>what's</i> to do?"</p> + +<p>"There's all Nettie's things in the room at +present. They are all to move upstairs, and the +red bedstead to bring down."</p> + +<p>"No, mother," said Nettie, gently, "all my +things are upstairs already; there's only the cot +and the bed, that I couldn't move."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Mathieson gave no outward sign of the +mixed feeling of pain and pleasure that shot +through her heart. Pleasure at her child's +thoughtful love, pain that she should have to +show it in such a way.</p> + +<p>"When did you do it, Nettie?"</p> + +<p>"This morning before breakfast, mother. It's +all ready, father, if you or Barry would take up +my cot and the bed, and bring down the other +bedstead. It's too heavy for me."</p> + +<p>"That's what I call doing business and having +some spirit," said her father. "Not sitting and +letting your work come to you. Here, Nettie, +I'll do the rest for you."</p> + +<p>Nettie ran with him to show him what was +wanted; and Mr. Mathieson's strong arms had +it all done very quickly. Nettie eagerly thanked +him; and then seeing him in good humour with +her, she ventured something more.</p> + +<p>"Mother's very tired to-day, father," she whispered; +"she'll feel better by-and-bye if she has +a little rest. Do you think you would mind +helping me put up this bedstead?"</p> + +<p>"Well, here goes!" returned Mr. Mathieson. +"Which piece belongs here, to begin with?"</p> + +<p>Nettie did not know much better than he; but +putting not only her whole mind but also her +whole heart into it, she managed to find out and +to direct him successfully. Her part was hard +work: she had to stand holding up the heavy +end of the bedstead while her father fitted in the +long pieces; and then she helped him to lace +the cords, which had to be drawn very tight; +and precious time was running away fast, and +Nettie had had no dinner. But she stood patiently, +with a thought in her heart which kept +her in peace all the while. When it was done, +Mr. Mathieson went out, and Nettie returned to +her mother. She was sitting where she had left +her. Barry was gone.</p> + +<p>"Mother, won't you have something to eat?"</p> + +<p>"I can't eat, child. Have you had anything +yourself?"</p> + +<p>Nettie had seized a remnant of her father's +toast, and was munching it hastily.</p> + +<p>"Mother, won't you put on your gown and +come to church this afternoon? Do! It will +rest you. Do, mother!"</p> + +<p>"You forget I've got to get supper, child. +Your father doesn't think it necessary that +anybody should rest, or go to church, or do anything +except work. What he is thinking of, I am sure +I don't know. There is no place to eat in but +this room, and he is going to bring a stranger +into it; and if I was dying I should have to +get up for every meal that is wanted. I never +thought I should come to live so! And I cannot +dress myself, or prepare the victuals, or have +a moment to myself, but I have the chance of +Mr. Lumber and your father in here to look on! +It is worse than a dog's life!"</p> + +<p>It looked pretty bad, Nettie thought. She did +not know what to say. She began clearing away +the things on the table.</p> + +<p>"And what sort of a man this Mr. Lumber is, +I don't know. I dare say he is like his name—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."</p> + +<p>"Couldn't there be a bed made somewhere +else for Barry, mother? and then we could eat +in there."</p> + +<p>"Where would you make it? I could curtain +off a corner of this room, but Barry wouldn't +have it, nor your father; and they'd 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!"</p> + +<p>"Mother, Jesus said, 'He that liveth and believeth +in Me shall never die.'"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes!" said Mrs. Mathieson, with a kind of +long-drawn groan, "I don't know how it will be +about that! I get so put about now in these +times, that it seems to me I don't know my own +soul!"</p> + +<p>"Mother, come to church this afternoon."</p> + +<p>"I can't, child. I've got to put up that man's +bed and make it."</p> + +<p>"That is all done, mother, and the floor +brushed up. Do come!"</p> + +<p>"Why, who put it up?"</p> + +<p>"Father and I."</p> + +<p>"Well! you do beat all, Nettie. But I can't, +child; I haven't time."</p> + +<p>"Yes, mother, plenty. There's all the hour of +Sunday school before church begins. Now do, +mother!"</p> + +<p>"Well, you go off to school; and if I can, +maybe I will. You go right off, Nettie."</p> + +<p>Nettie went, feeling weary and empty by dint +of hard work and a dinner of a small bit of dry +toast. But she thought little about that. She +wanted to ask Mr. Folke a question.</p> + +<p>The lesson that afternoon was upon the peacemakers; +and Mr. Folke asked the children what +ways they knew of being a peacemaker. The +answer, somehow, was not very ready.</p> + +<p>"Isn't it to stop people from quarrelling?" one +child asked.</p> + +<p>"How can you do that, Jane?"</p> + +<p>Jane seemed doubtful. "I could ask them to +stop," she said.</p> + +<p>"Well, suppose you did. Would angry people +mind your asking?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know, sir. If they were very angry, +I suppose they wouldn't."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps not. One thing is certain, Jane; you +must have peace in your own heart, to give you +the least chance."</p> + +<p>"How, Mr. Folke?"</p> + +<p>"If you want to put out a fire, you must not +stick into it something that will catch."</p> + +<p>"That would make the fire worse," said one of +<ins title="lacking in original">the</ins> girls.</p> + +<p>"Certainly. So if you want to touch quarrelsome +spirits with the least hope of softening +them, you must be so full of the love of Jesus +yourself that nothing but love can come out of +your own spirit. You see, it means a good deal +to be a peacemaker."</p> + +<p>"I always thought that must be one of the +easiest things of the whole list," said one of the +class.</p> + +<p>"You won't find it so, I think; or rather you +will find they are all parts of the same character, +and the blessing is one. But there are more +ways of being a peacemaker. What do you do +when the hinge of a door creaks?"</p> + +<p>One said "She didn't know;" another said +"Nothing." "I stop my ears," said a third. Mr. +Folke laughed.</p> + +<p>"<i>That</i> would not do for a peacemaker," he +said. "Don't you know what makes machinery +work smoothly?"</p> + +<p>"Oil!" cried Jane.</p> + +<p>"Oil to be sure! One little drop of oil will +stop ever so much creaking and groaning and +complaining, of hinges and wheels and all sorts +of machines. Now, people's tempers are like +wheels and hinges. But what sort of oil shall +we use?"</p> + +<p>The girls looked at each other, and then one +of them said, "Kindness."</p> + +<p>"To be sure! A gentle word, a look of love, +a little bit of kindness, will smooth down a +roughened temper or a wry face, and soften a +hard piece of work, and make all go easily. And +so of reproving sinners. The Psalmist says, 'Let +the righteous smite me; it shall be a kindness: +and let him reprove me; it shall be an excellent +oil, which shall not break my head.' But, you +see, the peacemaker must be righteous himself, +or he hasn't the oil. Love is the oil—the 'love +of Jesus.'"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Folke," said Nettie, timidly, "wasn't +Jesus a peacemaker?"</p> + +<p>"The greatest that ever lived!" said Mr. Folke, +his eyes lighting up with pleasure at her +question. "He made all the peace there is in the +world, for He bought it, when He died on the +cross to reconcile man with God. All our drops +of oil were bought with drops of blood."</p> + +<p>"And," said Nettie, hesitatingly, "Mr. Folke, +isn't that one way of being a peacemaker?"</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>"I mean, to persuade people to be at peace +with Him?"</p> + +<p>"That is the way above all others, my child; +that is truly to be the 'children of God.' Jesus +came and preached peace; and that is what His +servants are doing, and will do, till He comes. +And 'they shall be called the children of God.' +'Beloved, if God so loved us, we ought also to +love one another.'"</p> + +<p>Mr. Folke paused, with a face so full of thought, +of eagerness, and of love, that none of the children +spoke, and some of them wondered. And +before Mr. Folke spoke again, the superintendent's +little bell rang, and they all stood up to +sing. But Nettie Mathieson hardly could sing; +it seemed to her so glorious a thing to be <i>that</i> +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.</p> + +<p>Her mother had now come to church, so Nettie +enjoyed all the services, with nothing to hinder. +Then they walked home together, not speaking +much to each other, but every step of the way +pleasant in the Sunday afternoon light, till they +got to their own door. Nettie knew what her +mother's sigh meant, as they mounted the stairs. +Happily, nobody was at home yet but themselves.</p> + +<p>"Now, mother," said Nettie, when she had +changed her dress and come to the common +room, "what's to be for supper? I'll get it. +You sit still and read, if you want to, while it's +quiet. What must we have?"</p> + +<p>"There is not a great deal to do," said Mrs. +Mathieson. "I boiled the pork this morning, +and that was what set your father up so; that's +ready; and he says there must be cakes. The +potatoes are all ready to put down—I was going +to boil 'em this morning, and he stopped me."</p> + +<p>Nettie looked grave about the cakes.</p> + +<p>"However, mother," she said, "I don't believe +that little loaf of bread would last, even if you +and I didn't touch it; it is not very big."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Mathieson wearily sat down and took her +Testament, as Nettie begged her; and Nettie +put on the kettle and the pot of potatoes, and +made the cakes ready to bake. The table was +set, and the treacle and everything on it, except +the hot things, when Barry burst in.</p> + +<p>"Hallo, cakes!—hallo, treacle!" he shouted. +"Pork and treacle—that's the right sort of thing. +Now we're going to live something like."</p> + +<p>"Hush, Barry, don't make such a noise," said +his sister. "You know it's Sunday evening."</p> + +<p>"Sunday! well, what about Sunday? What's +Sunday good for, except to eat, I should like to +know?"</p> + +<p>"O Barry!"</p> + +<p>"O Barry!" said he, mimicking her. "Come, +shut up, and fry your cake. Father and Lumber +will be here just now."</p> + +<p>Nettie hushed, as she was bidden; 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.</p> + +<p>She had a good specimen this evening of what +they might expect in future. Mrs. Mathieson +poured out the tea, and Nettie baked the cakes; +and perhaps because she was almost faint for +want of something to eat, she thought no three +people ever ate so many griddle cakes before at +one meal. In vain plateful after plateful went +upon the board, and Nettie baked them as fast +as she could; they were eaten just as fast; and +when finally the chairs were pushed back, and +the men went downstairs, Nettie and her mother +looked at each other.</p> + +<p>"There's only one left, mother," said Nettie.</p> + +<p>"And he has certainly eaten half the piece of +pork," said Mrs. Mathieson. "Come, child, take +something yourself; you're ready to drop. I'll +clear away."</p> + +<p>But it is beyond the power of any disturbance +to take away the gladness of a heart where Jesus +is. Nettie's bread was sweet to her, even that +evening. Before she had well finished her supper, +her father and his lodger came back. They sat +down on either side the fire, and began to talk +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,</p> + +<p>"Shall I sing, father?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Mathieson hesitated, and then answered,</p> + +<p>"No,—better not, Nettie: Mr. Lumber might +not find it amusing;" and the talk began again.</p> + +<p>Nettie waited a little longer, feeling exceedingly +tired. Then she rose and lighted a candle.</p> + +<p>"What are you doing, Nettie?" her mother +said.</p> + +<p>"I am going to bed, mother."</p> + +<p>"You can't take a candle up there, child! the +attic's all full of things, and you would certainly +set us on fire."</p> + +<p>"I'll take great care, mother."</p> + +<p>"But you can't, child! The wind might blow +the snuff of your candle right into something +that would be all a-flame by the time you're +asleep. You must manage without a light +somehow."</p> + +<p>"But I can't see to find my way," said Nettie, +who was secretly trembling with fear.</p> + +<p>"I'll light you then, for once, and you'll soon +learn the way. Give me the candle."</p> + +<p>Nettie hushed the words that came crowding +into her mouth, and clambered up the steep stairs +to the attic. Mrs. Mathieson followed her with +the candle till she got to the top, and there she +held it till Nettie had found her way to the +other end where her bed was. Then she said +"Good night!" and went down.</p> + +<p>The little square shutter of the window was +open, and a ray of moonlight streamed in upon +the bed. It was nicely made up: Nettie saw +that her mother had been there and had done +that for her, and wrought a little more space and +order among the things around the bed. But +the moonlight did not get in far enough to show +much more. Just a little of this thing and of +that could be seen; a corner of a chest, or a +gleam on the side of a meal-bag: the half-light +showed nothing clearly except the confused fulness +of the little attic. Nettie had given her +head a blow against a piece of timber as she +came through it; and she sat down upon her +little 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 <i>did</i> come there, Nettie did not see how the +matter could be mended. She sat down on her +little bed, so much frightened that she forgot +how tired she was. Her ears were as sharp as +needles, listening to hear the scrape of a rat's +tooth upon a timber, or the patter of his feet over +the floor.</p> + +<p>For a few minutes Nettie almost thought she +could not sleep up there alone, and must go +down and implore her mother to let her spread +her bed in a corner of her room. But what a +bustle that would make! Her mother would be +troubled, and her father would be angry, and the +lodger would be disturbed, and there was no +telling how much harm would come of it. No; +the peacemaker of the family must not do that. +And then the words floated into Nettie's mind +again, "Blessed are the peacemakers, for they +shall be called the children of God." Like a +strain of the sweetest music it floated in; and if +an angel had come and brought the words +straight to Nettie, she could not have been more +comforted. She felt the rats could not hurt her +while she was within hearing of that music; and +she got up and kneeled down upon the chest +under the little window, and looked out.</p> + +<p>It was like the day that had passed, not like +the evening. So purely and softly the moon-beams +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 week-days 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-bye, +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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Nettie's fear was gone. She prayed her evening +prayer, and trusted herself to the Lord Jesus to +take care of her; and then she undressed herself +and lay down and went to sleep, just as quietly +as any sparrow of them all, with its head under +its wing.</p> + +<div class="center"> +<table class="sm" style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="2" summary="poem"> +<tr><td align="left">"O day of rest and gladness!</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1">O day of joy and light!</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">O balm of care and sadness,</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1">Most beautiful, most bright!</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">On thee the high and lowly,</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1">Through ages join'd in tune,</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Sing, Holy, Holy, Holy,</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1">To the great God Triune."</span></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<p> </p> +<div class="center"> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4" summary="Illustration"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/i058.jpg"> + <img src="images/i058.jpg" height="30" + alt="DECORATION" /></a> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> +<p> </p> +<hr class="minimal" /> +<p> </p> +<div class="center"> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4" summary="Illustration"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/i059.jpg"> + <img src="images/i059.jpg" height="120" + alt="DECORATION" /></a> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> +<h3><a name="ch_3" id="ch_3"></a>CHAPTER III.</h3> +<div class="center"> +<p class="noindent"><i><span class="small">NETTIE'S GARRET.</span></i><br /> +<br /> +<span class="small">"I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me."—<i>Psalm</i> xxiii. 4.</span></p> +</div> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 80px;"> +<img src="images/i059a.jpg" width="90" alt="N" title="" /></div><div class="noindent">ettie's attic grew to be a very pleasant +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.</div> + +<p>The 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 on +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 was 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.</p> + +<p>"It will rest you so, mother," Nettie would +say; "and I will make the bread just as soon as +I get the dishes done. Do let me! I like to do it."</p> + +<p>Sometimes Mrs. Mathieson could not be +persuaded; sometimes she would yield, in a despondent +kind of way, and sit down with the +Testament, and look at it as if neither there nor +anywhere else in the universe could she find rest +or comfort any more.</p> + +<p>"It don't signify, child," said she, one afternoon +when Nettie had been urging her to sit +down and read. "I haven't the heart to do anything. +We're all driving to rack and ruin just +as fast as we can go."</p> + +<p>"Oh no, mother," said Nettie, "I don't think +we are."</p> + +<p>"I am sure of it. I see it coming every day. +Every day it is a little worse; and Barry is going +along with your father; and they are destroying +me among them, body and soul too."</p> + +<p>"No, mother," said Nettie, "I don't think that. +I have prayed the Lord Jesus, and you know He +has promised to hear prayer; and I know we are +not going to ruin."</p> + +<p>"<i>You</i> are not, child, I believe; but you are +the only one of us that isn't. I wish I was dead, +to be out of my misery!"</p> + +<p>"Sit down, mother, and read a little bit; and +don't talk so. Do, mother! It will be an hour +or 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."</p> + +<p>It was half despair and half persuasion that +made her do it; but Mrs. Mathieson did sit down +by the open window and take her Testament; +and Nettie flew quietly about, making her shortcakes +and making up the fire and setting the +table, and through it all casting many a loving +glance over to the open book in her mother's +hand, and the weary, stony face that was bent +over it. Nettie had not said how her own back +was aching, and she forgot it almost in her business +and her thoughts; though by the time her +work was done her head was aching wearily too. +But cakes and table and fire and everything else +were in readiness; and Nettie stole up behind +her mother and leaned over her shoulder—leaned +a little heavily.</p> + +<p>"Don't that chapter comfort you, mother?" +she whispered.</p> + +<p>"No. It don't seem to me as I've got any +feeling left," said Mrs. Mathieson.</p> + +<p>It was the fourth chapter of John at which they +were both looking.</p> + +<p>"Don't it comfort you to read of Jesus being +wearied?" Nettie went on, her head lying on her +mother's shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Why should it, child?"</p> + +<p>"I like to read it," said Nettie. "Then I know +He knows how I feel sometimes."</p> + +<p>"God knows everything, Nettie."</p> + +<p>With that Mrs. Mathieson cast down her book +and burst into such a passion of weeping that +Nettie was frightened. It was like the breaking +up of an icy winter. She flung her apron over +her head and sobbed aloud; till, hearing the steps +of the men upon the staircase, she rushed off to +Barry's room, and presently got quiet, for she +came out to supper as if nothing had happened.</p> + +<p>From that time there was a gentler mood upon +her mother; Nettie saw, though she looked weary +and careworn as ever, there was now not 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."</p> + +<p>As weeks went on, the father of the family was +more and more out at nights, and less and less +agreeable when he was at home. He and his +friend Lumber helped each other in mischief. +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 began to suspect 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. By degrees it +came to be very customary for Mrs. Mathieson +and Nettie to make their meal of porridge and +bread, after all the more savoury food had been +devoured by the others; and many a weary patch +and darn filled the night hours because they had +not money to buy a cheap dress or two. Nettie +bore it very patiently. Mrs. Mathieson was sometimes +impatient.</p> + +<p>"This won't 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.</p> + +<p>"You'll have to make it last," said he gruffly.</p> + +<p>"Will you tell me how I'm going to do that? +Here isn't more than half what you gave me at +first."</p> + +<p>"Send to Jackson's for what you want!" he +roared at her; "didn't I tell you so? and don't +come bothering me with your noise."</p> + +<p>"When will you pay Jackson?"</p> + +<p>"I'll pay you first!" he said, with an oath, and +very violently. It was a ruder word than he had +ever said to her before, and Mrs. Mathieson was +staggered for a moment by it; but there was +another word she was determined to say.</p> + +<p>"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 on with. +She is getting just as thin and pale as she can be."</p> + +<p>"That's just your fool's nonsense!" said Mr. +Mathieson; but he spoke it more quietly. Nettie +just then entered the room.</p> + +<p>"Here, Nettie, what ails you? Come here. +Let's look at you. Ain't you as strong as ever +you was? Here's your mother says you're +getting puny."</p> + +<p>Nettie's smile and answer were so placid and +untroubled, and the little colour that rose in her +cheeks at her father's question made her look so +fresh and well, that he was quieted. He drew +her within his arms, for his gentle, dutiful little +daughter had a place in his respect and affection +both, though he did not often show it very +broadly; but now he kissed her.</p> + +<p>"There!" said he; "don't you go to growing +thin and weak without telling me, for I don't like +such doings. You tell me when you want anything." +But with that Mr. Mathieson got up +and went off out of the house; and Nettie had +small chance to tell him if she wanted anything. +However, this little word and kiss were a great +comfort and pleasure to her. It was the last she +had from him in a good while.</p> + +<p>Nettie, however, was not working for praise or +kisses, and very little of either she got. Generally +her father was rough, imperious, impatient, speaking +fast enough if anything went wrong, but very +sparing in expressions of pleasure. Sometimes +a blessing did come upon her from the very depth +of Mrs. Mathieson's heart, and went straight to +Nettie's; but it was for another blessing she +laboured, and prayed, and waited.</p> + +<p>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 in the evening; and October +brought still sunny days, it is true, but the +nights had a clear sharp frost in them; and Nettie +was obliged to cover herself up warm in bed and +look at the moonlight and the stars as she could +see them through the little square opening left +by the shutter. The stars looked very lovely to +Nettie, when they peeped at her so in her bed +out of their high heaven; and she was very +content.</p> + +<p>Then came November; and the winds began +to come into the garret, not only through the +open window, but through every crack between +two boards. The whole garret was filled with +the winds, Nettie thought. It was hard work +managing then. Shutting the shutter would bar +out the stars, but not the wind, she found; and +to keep from being quite chilled through at her +times of prayer, morning and evening, Nettie +used to take the blanket and coverlets from the +bed, and wrap herself in them. It was all she +could do. Still, she forgot the inconveniences; +and her little garret chamber seemed to Nettie +very near heaven, as well as near the sky.</p> + +<p>But all this way of life did not make her grow +strong or rosy; and though Nettie never told her +father that she wanted anything, her mother's +heart measured the times when it ought to be +told.</p> + +<p> </p> +<hr class="minimal" /> +<p> </p> +<div class="center"> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4" summary="Illustration"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/i069.jpg"> + <img src="images/i069.jpg" height="120" + alt="DECORATION" /></a> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> +<h3><a name="ch_4" id="ch_4"></a>CHAPTER IV.</h3> +<div class="center"> +<p class="noindent"><i><span class="small">THE BROWN CLOAK IN NOVEMBER.</span></i><br /> +<br /> +<span class="small">"How long, O Lord?"—<i>Rev.</i> vi. 10.</span></p> +</div> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 80px;"> +<img src="images/i059a.jpg" width="90" alt="N" title="" /></div><div class="noindent">ovember 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.</div> + +<p>"Yes, mother. Coming."</p> + +<p>"Fetch down your school cloak, child."</p> + +<p>She went back to her room, and presently +Nettie came in with the cloak, looking placid as +usual, but very pale.</p> + +<p>"Somebody's got to go to Mr. Jackson's, but +you ain't fit, child; you ate next to nothing at +noon. You can't live on porridge."</p> + +<p>"I like it, mother; but I wasn't hungry. What's +wanting from Jackson's?"</p> + +<p>Nettie put on her cloak, and took her basket, +and went out. It was after sundown already, +and a keen wind swept through the village street, +and swept through Nettie's brown cloak too, +tight as she wrapt it about her. But though she +was cold and blue, and the wind seemed to go +through <i>her</i> 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 <i>she</i> 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.</p> + +<p>"What do you want?" said Mr. Jackson, rather +curtly, when Nettie's turn came to be served, and +she had told her errand. "What!" he exclaimed, +"seven pounds of meal, and a pound of butter, +and two pounds of sugar! Well, you tell your +father that I should like to have my bill settled; +it's all drawn up, you see, and I don't like to +open a new account till it's all square."</p> + +<p>He turned away immediately to another customer, +and Nettie felt she had got her answer. +She stood a moment, very disappointed, and a +little mortified, and somewhat downhearted. +What should they do for supper? and what a +storm there would be when her father heard +about all this, and found nothing but bread and +tea on the table! Slowly Nettie turned away, +and slowly made the few steps from the door to +the corner. She felt very blue indeed; coming +out of the warm store, the chill wind made her +shiver. Just at the corner somebody stopped her.</p> + +<p>"Nettie!" said the voice of the little French +baker, "what ails you? you look not well."</p> + +<p>Nettie gave her a grateful smile, and said she +was well.</p> + +<p>"You look not like it," said Madame 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."</p> + +<p>"I haven't time; I must go home to mother, +Mrs. August."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know! You will go home all the faster +for coming this way first. You have not been to +see me in these three or four weeks."</p> + +<p>She carried Nettie along with her; it was but +a step, and Nettie did not feel capable of resisting +anything. The little Frenchwoman put her into +the shop before her, made her sit down, and +lighted a candle. The shop was nice and warm, +and full of the savoury smell of fresh baking.</p> + +<p>"We have made our own bread lately," said +Nettie, in answer to the charge of not coming +there.</p> + +<p>"Do you make it good?" said Madame +Auguste.</p> + +<p>"It isn't like yours, Mrs. August," said Nettie, +smiling.</p> + +<p>"If you will come and live with me next summer, +I will teach you how to do some things; +and you shall not look so blue neither. Have +you had your supper?"</p> + +<p>"No; and I am just going home to get supper. +I must go, Mrs. August."</p> + +<p>"You come in here," said the Frenchwoman; +"you are my prisoner. I am all alone, and I +want somebody for company. You take off your +cloak, Nettie, and I shall give you something to +keep the wind out. You do what I bid you!"</p> + +<p>Nettie felt too cold and weak to make any ado +about complying, unless duty had forbade; and +she thought there was time enough yet. She let +her cloak drop, and took off her hood. The little +back room to which Madame 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. Madame +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 nice crisp rolls.</p> + +<p>"Eat that!" she said. "I shan't let you go +home till you have swallowed that to keep the +cold out. It makes me all freeze to look at you."</p> + +<p>So she filled her own bowl, and made good +play with her spoon, while between spoonfuls +she looked at Nettie; and the good little woman +smiled in her heart to see how easy it was for +Nettie to obey her. The savoury, simple, comforting +broth she had set before her was the best +thing to the child's delicate stomach that she +had tasted for many a day.</p> + +<p>"Is it good?" said the Frenchwoman, when +Nettie's bowl was half empty.</p> + +<p>"It's so good!" said Nettie. "I didn't know +I was so hungry."</p> + +<p>"Now you will not feel the cold so," said the +Frenchwoman, "and you will go back quicker. +Do you like my <i>riz-au-gras</i>?"</p> + +<p>"<i>What</i> is it, ma'am?" said Nettie.</p> + +<p>The Frenchwoman laughed, and made Nettie +say it over till she could pronounce the words.</p> + +<p>"Now you like it," she said, "that is a French +dish. Do you think Mrs. Mat'ieson would like +it?"</p> + +<p>"I am sure she would!" said Nettie. "But I +don't know how to make it."</p> + +<p>"You shall come here, and I will teach it to +you. And now you shall carry a little home to +your mother, and ask her if she will do the honour +to a French dish to approve it. It do not cost +anything. I cannot sell much bread the winters; +I live on what cost me nothing."</p> + +<p>While saying this, Madame Auguste had filled +a little pail with the <i>riz-au-gras</i>, and put a couple +of her rolls along with it. "It must have the +French bread," she said; and she gave it to +Nettie, who looked quite cheered up, and very +grateful.</p> + +<p>"You are a good little girl!" she said. "How +keep you always your face looking so happy? +There is always one little streak of sunshine +here"—drawing her finger across above Nettie's +eyebrows—"and another here,"—and her finger +passed over the line of Nettie's lips.</p> + +<p>"That's because I <i>am</i> happy, Mrs. August."</p> + +<p>"<i>Always?</i>"</p> + +<p>"Yes, always."</p> + +<p>"What makes you so happy always? You +was just the same in the cold winter out there, +as when you was eating my <i>riz-au-gras</i>. Now, +me—I am cross in the cold, and not happy."</p> + +<p>But the Frenchwoman saw a deeper light come +into Nettie's eyes as she answered,</p> + +<p>"It is because I love the Lord Jesus, Mrs. +August, and He makes me happy."</p> + +<p>"<i>You?</i>" said Madame. "My child! What +do you say, Nettie? I think not I have heard +you right."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Mrs. August, I am happy because I love +Jesus. I know He loves me, and He will take +me to be with Him."</p> + +<p>"Not just yet," said the Frenchwoman, "I +hope. Well, I wish I was so happy as you, +Nettie. Good bye!"</p> + +<p>Nettie ran home, more comforted by her good +supper, and more thankful to the goodness of +God in giving it, and happy in the feeling of His +goodness, than can be told. And very, very glad +she was of that little tin pail in her hand she +knew her mother needed. Mrs. Mathieson had +time to eat the rice broth before her husband +came in.</p> + +<p>"She said she would show me how to make +it," said Nettie, "and it don't cost anything."</p> + +<p>"Why, it's just rice and—<i>what</i> is it? I don't +see," said Mrs. Mathieson. "It isn't rice and +milk."</p> + +<p>Nettie laughed at her mother.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. August didn't tell. She called it reeso—I +forget what she called it!"</p> + +<p>"It's the best thing I ever saw," said Mrs. +Mathieson. "There—put the pail away. Your +father's coming."</p> + +<p>He was in a terrible humour, as they expected; +and Nettie and her mother had a sad evening of +it. And the same sort of thing lasted for several +days. Mrs. Mathieson hoped that perhaps Mr. +Lumber would take into his head to seek lodgings +somewhere else, or, at least, that Mathieson +would have been shamed into paying Jackson's +bill; but neither thing happened. Mr. Lumber +found his quarters too comfortable; and Mr. +Mathieson spent too much of his earnings on +drink to find the amount necessary to clear off +the scores at the grocer's shop.</p> + +<p>From that time, as they could run up no new +account, the family were obliged to live on what +they could immediately pay for. That was seldom +a sufficient supply; and so, in dread of the storms +that came whenever their wants touched Mr. +Mathieson's own comfort, Nettie and her mother +denied themselves constantly what they very +much needed. The old can sometimes bear this +better than the young. Nettie grew more delicate, +more thin, and more feeble every day. It +troubled her mother sadly. Mr. Mathieson could +not be made to see it. Indeed, he was little at +home except when he was eating.</p> + +<div class="center"> +<table class="sm" style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="2" summary="poem"> +<tr><td align="left">"Scarce discerning aught before us,</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1">On our weary way we go;</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> But one guiding star is o'er us,</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1">Beaming forth the way to show.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">"Watch we, pray we, that we sink not,</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1">Journeying on while yet we can;</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> At a moment when we think not</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1">We shall meet the Son of Man."</span></td></tr> +</table></div> +<div class="center"> +<p> </p> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4" summary="Illustration"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/i078.jpg"> + <img src="images/i078.jpg" height="30" + alt="DECORATION" /></a> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> +<p> </p> +<hr class="minimal" /> +<p> </p> +<div class="center"> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4" summary="Illustration"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/i079.jpg"> + <img src="images/i079.jpg" height="120" + alt="DECORATION" /></a> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> +<h3><a name="ch_5" id="ch_5"></a>CHAPTER V.</h3> +<div class="center"> +<p class="noindent"><i><span class="small">THE NEW BLANKET.</span></i></p> +<p class="center"><span class="small">"Lift up your hands in the sanctuary, and bless the Lord."<br /> +<i>Ps.</i> cxxxiv. 2.</span></p> +</div> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 80px;"> +<img src="images/i079a.jpg" width="90" alt="I" title="" /> +</div><div class="noindent">t 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 seemed 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 wainscoat 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's. 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 all tears +from their eyes."</div> + +<p>"His servants shall serve Him,"—thought +Nettie; "and mother 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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Do you know the day after to-morrow is +Christmas Day?" said he.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know. It's the day when Christ was +born," said Nettie.</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't know anything about that," +said her father; "but what I mean is, that a week +after is New Year. What would you like me to +give you, Nettie,—hey?"</p> + +<p>Nettie stood still for a moment, then her eyes +lighted up.</p> + +<p>"Will you give it to me, father, if I tell you?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know. If it is not extravagant, perhaps +I will."</p> + +<p>"It will not cost much," said Nettie, earnestly. +"Will you give me what I choose, father, if it +does not cost too much?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose I will. What is it?"</p> + +<p>"Father, you won't be displeased?"</p> + +<p>"Not I!" said Mr. Mathieson, drawing Nettie's +little form tighter in his grasp: he thought he +had never felt it so slight and thin before.</p> + +<p>"Father, I am going to ask you a great thing!—to +go to church with me New Year's Day."</p> + +<p>"To church!" said her father, frowning; but +he remembered his promise, and he felt Nettie +in his arms yet. "What on earth good will that +do you?"</p> + +<p>"A great deal of good. It would please me +so much, father."</p> + +<p>"What do you want me to go to church for?" +said Mr. Mathieson, not sure yet what humour +he was going to be in.</p> + +<p>"To thank God, father, that there was a Christmas, +when Jesus came, that we might have a +New Year."</p> + +<p>"What—what!" said Mr. Mathieson. "What +are you talking about?"</p> + +<p>"Because, father," said Nettie, trembling, and +seizing her chance, "since Jesus loved us, and +came and died for us, we all may have a New +Year of glory. I shall, father; and I want you +too. Oh do, father!" and Nettie burst into tears.</p> + +<p>Mr. Mathieson held her fast, and his face showed +a succession of changes for a minute or so. But +she presently raised her head and kissed him, and +said,</p> + +<p>"May I have what I want, father?"</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing else!" she told him, with her face +all shining with joy.</p> + +<p>Mr. Mathieson looked at her, and seemed very +thoughtful all supper-time.</p> + +<p>"Can't you strengthen that child up a bit?" +he said to his wife afterwards. "She does too +much."</p> + +<p>"She does as little as I can help," said Mrs. +Mathieson, "but she is always at something. I +am afraid her room is too cold o' nights. She +ain't fit to bear it. It's bitter up there."</p> + +<p>"Give her another blanket or quilt, then," said +her husband. "I should think you would see to +that. Does she say she is cold?"</p> + +<p>"No,—never, except sometimes when I see her +looking blue, and ask her."</p> + +<p>"And what does she say then?"</p> + +<p>"She says sometimes she is a little cold," said +Mrs. Mathieson.</p> + +<p>"Well, do put something more over her, and +have no more of it!" said her husband, violently. +"Sit still and let the child be cold, when another +covering would make it all right!"—and he ended +with swearing at her.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Mathieson did not dare to tell him that +Nettie's food was not of a sufficiently nourishing +kind: she knew what the answer to that would +be; and she feared that a word more about Nettie's +sleeping-room would be thought an attack +upon Mr. Lumber's being in the house. So she +was silent.</p> + +<p>But there came home something for Nettie in +the course of the Christmas week, which comforted +her a little, and perhaps quieted Mr. Mathieson +too. He brought with him, on coming home to +supper one evening, a great thick roll of a bundle, +and put it in Nettie's arms, telling her that was +for her New Year.</p> + +<p>"For me?" said Nettie, the colour starting a +little into her cheeks.</p> + +<p>"Yes, for you. Open it, and see."</p> + +<p>So Nettie did, with some trouble, and there +tumbled out upon the floor a great heavy warm +blanket, new from the shop. Mr. Mathieson +thought the pink in her cheeks was the prettiest +thing he had seen in a long while.</p> + +<p>"Is this for <i>me</i>, father?"</p> + +<p>"I mean it to be so. See if it will go on that +bed of yours, and keep you warm."</p> + +<p>Nettie gave her father some very hearty thanks, +which he took in a silent, pleased way; and then +she hastened off with her blanket upstairs. How +thick and warm it was! and how nicely it would +keep her comfortable when she knelt all wrapped +up in it on that cold floor! For a little while it +would; not even a warm blanket would keep her +from the cold more than a little while at a time +up there. But Nettie tried its powers the first +thing she did.</p> + +<p>Did Mr. Mathieson mean the blanket to take +the place of his promise? Nettie thought of that, +but like a wise child she said nothing at all till the +Sunday morning came. Then, before she set off +for Sunday school, she came to her father's elbow.</p> + +<p>"Father, I'll be home at a quarter after ten; +will you be ready then?"</p> + +<p>"Ready for what?" said Mr. Mathieson.</p> + +<p>"For my New Year's gift," said Nettie. "You +know you promised I should go to church with +you."</p> + +<p>"Did I? And ain't you going to take the +blanket for your New Year's gift, and let me off, +Nettie?"</p> + +<p>"No, father, to be sure not. I'll be home at +a quarter past; please don't forget." And Nettie +went off to school very thankful and happy, for +her father's tone was not unkind. How glad she +was New Year's Day had come on Sunday!</p> + +<p>Mr. Mathieson was as good as his word. He +was ready at the time, and they walked 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! 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 <i>did</i> reach him, though +he did not thoroughly understand it, was the look +of her own face, though she never but once dared +turn it toward him. There was a little colour in it +more than usual; her eye was deep in its earnestness; +and the grave set of her little mouth was +broken up now and then in a way that Mr. Mathieson +wanted to watch better than the straight +sides of her sun-bonnet would let him. Once he +thought he saw something more.</p> + +<p>He walked home very soberly, and was a good +deal on the silent order during the rest of the day. +He did not go to church in the afternoon. But +in the evening, as her mother was busy in and out +getting supper ready, and Mr. Lumber had not +come in, Mr. Mathieson called Nettie to his side.</p> + +<p>"What were you crying for in church this forenoon?" +he said low.</p> + +<p>"Crying!" said Nettie, surprised. "Was I crying?"</p> + +<p>"If it wasn't tears I saw dropping from under +your hands on to the floor, it must have been +some drops of rain that had got there, and I don't +see how they could very well. There warn't no +rain outside. What was it for, hey?"</p> + +<p>There came a great flush all over Nettie's face, +and she did not at once speak.</p> + +<p>"Hey?—what was it for?"—repeated Mr. +Mathieson.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>"Ready for what?" said Mr. Mathieson, somewhat +roughly. "All things ready for what?"</p> + +<p>"Ready for you," said Nettie. "Jesus is ready +to love you, and calls you—and the angels are +ready to rejoice for you—and I<span class="nowrap">——</span>"</p> + +<p>"Go on. What of you?"</p> + +<p>Nettie lifted her eyes to him. "I am ready to +rejoice too, father."</p> + +<p>But the time of rejoicing was not yet. Nettie +burst into tears.</p> + +<p>Mr. Mathieson was not angry, yet he flung +away from her with a rude "Pshaw!" and that +was all the answer she got. But the truth was, +that there was something in Nettie's look of tenderness, +and purity, and trembling hope, that her +father's heart could not bear to meet; and, what +is more, that he was never able to forget.</p> + +<p>Nettie went about her evening business, helping +her mother, and keeping back the tears which +were very near again; and Mr. Mathieson began +to talk with Mr. Lumber, and everything was to +all appearance just as it had been hitherto. And +so it went on after that.</p> + +<div class="center"> +<table class="sm" style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="2" summary="poem"> +<tr><td align="left">"Well I know thy troubles,</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1">O My servant true!</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> Thou art very weary—</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1">I was weary too:</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> But that toil shall make thee</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1">Some day all Mine own;</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> And the end of sorrow</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1">Shall be near My throne!"</span></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p> </p> +<div class="center"> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4" summary="Illustration"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/i089.jpg"> + <img src="images/i089.jpg" height="30" + alt="DECORATION" /></a> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> +<p> </p> +<hr class="minimal" /> +<p> </p> +<div class="center"> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4" summary="Illustration"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/i090.jpg"> + <img src="images/i090.jpg" height="120" + alt="DECORATION" /></a> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> +<h3><a name="ch_6" id="ch_6"></a>CHAPTER VI.</h3> +<div class="center"> +<p class="noindent"><i><span class="small">THE HOUSE-RAISING.</span></i><a name="fn1_r" id="fn1_r"></a><a href="#fn1"><sup><small>1</small></sup></a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="small">"In your patience possess ye your souls."—<i>Luke</i> xxi. 19."</span></p> +</div> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 80px;"> +<img src="images/i079a.jpg" width="90" alt="I" title="" /> +</div><div class="noindent">t 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.</div> + +<p>One morning Nettie went to Barry secretly in +his room, and asked him to bring the pail of water +from the spring for her. Barry had no mind to +the job.</p> + +<p>"Why can't mother do it," he said, "if you +can't?"</p> + +<p>"Mother is busy and hasn't a minute. I always +do it for her."</p> + +<p>"Well, why can't you go on doing it? You're +accustomed to it, you see, and I don't like going +out so early," said Barry, stretching himself.</p> + +<p>"I would, and I wouldn't ask you, only, Barry, +somehow I don't think I'm quite strong lately, +and I can hardly bring the pail—it's so heavy to +me. I have to stop and rest ever so many times +before I can get to the house with it."</p> + +<p>"Well, if you stop and rest, I suppose it won't +hurt you," said Barry. "<i>I</i> should want to stop +and rest too, myself."</p> + +<p>His little sister was turning away, giving it up, +when she was met by her father, who stepped in +from the entry. He looked red with anger.</p> + +<p>"You take the pail, and go get the water!" said +he to his son; "and you hear me! Don't you let +Nettie bring in another pailful when you're at +home, or I'll turn you out of the house. You +lazy scoundrel! You don't deserve the bread you +eat. Would you let her work for you, when you +are as strong as sixty?"</p> + +<p>Barry's grumbled words in answer were so very +unsatisfactory, that Mr. Mathieson in a rage advanced +towards him with uplifted fist; but Nettie +sprang in between, and very nearly caught the +blow that was meant for her brother.</p> + +<p>"Please, father, don't!" she cried;—"please, +father, don't be angry! Barry didn't think—he +didn't<span class="nowrap">——</span>"</p> + +<p>"Why didn't he?" said Mr. Mathieson. "Great +lazy rascal! He wants to be flogged."</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't!" said Nettie: "he didn't know why +I asked him, or he wouldn't have refused me."</p> + +<p>"Why did you, then?"</p> + +<p>"Because it made my back ache so to bring it—I +couldn't help asking him."</p> + +<p>"Did you ever ask him before?"</p> + +<p>"Never mind, please, father!" said Nettie, +sweetly. "Just don't think about me, and don't +be angry with Barry. It's no matter now."</p> + +<p>"Who does think about you? Your mother +don't, or she would have seen to this before."</p> + +<p>"Mother didn't know my back ached. Father, +you know she hasn't a minute: she is so busy +getting breakfast in time; and she didn't know +I wasn't strong enough. Father, don't tell her, +please, I asked Barry. It would worry her so. +Please don't, father."</p> + +<p>"<i>You</i> 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.</p> + +<p>"Am I that?" she thought. "Shall I be that? +O Lord, my Saviour, my dear Redeemer, send +Thy peace here!" She was still in the same +place and position when Barry came in again.</p> + +<p>"It's wretched work!" he exclaimed, under +his breath, for his father was in the next room. +"It's as slippery as the plague going down that +path to the water: it's no use to have legs, for +you can't hold up. I'm all froze stiff with the +water I've spilt on me!"</p> + +<p>"I know it's very slippery," said Nettie.</p> + +<p>"And then you can't get at the water when +you're there, without stepping into it—it's filled +chuck full of snow and ice all over the edge. It's +the most wretched work!"</p> + +<p>"I know it, Barry," said Nettie. "I am sorry +you have to do it."</p> + +<p>"Why did you make me do it, then?" said he +angrily. "You got it your own way this time. +But never mind; I'll be even with you for it."</p> + +<p>"Barry," said his sister, "please do it just a +little while for me, till I get stronger and don't +mind; and as soon as ever I can I'll do it again. +But you don't know how it made me ache all +through, bringing the pail up that path."</p> + +<p>"Stuff!" said Barry. And from that time, +though he did not fail to bring the water in the +morning, yet Nettie saw he owed her a grudge +for it all the day afterward. He was almost +always away with his father, and she had little +chance to win him to better feeling.</p> + +<p>So the winter slowly passed and the spring +came. Spring months came, at least; and now +and then, to be sure, a sweet spring day, when all +nature softened; the sun shone mildly, the birds +sang, the air smelt sweet with the opening buds.</p> + +<p>"There's that house-raising to-morrow, Nettie," +said Mrs. Mathieson; "it's been on my mind this +fortnight past, and it kills me."</p> + +<p>"Why, mother?"</p> + +<p>"I know how it will be," said Mrs. Mathieson: +"they'll have a grand set-to after they get it up, +and your father'll be in the first of it; and I +somehow feel as if it would be the finishing of +him. I wish almost he'd get ill—or anything +to keep him away. They make such a time after +a house-raising."</p> + +<p>"Oh, mother, don't wish that," said Nettie; +but she began to think how it would be possible +to withdraw her father from the frolic with which +the day's business would be ended. Mr. Mathieson +was a carpenter, and a fine workman, and +always had plenty of work, and was much looked +up to among his fellows.</p> + +<p>Nettie began to think whether <i>she</i> 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.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Mathieson said she used in her younger +days to know how to make waffles<a name="fn2_r" id="fn2_r"></a><a href="#fn2"><sup><small>2</small></sup></a>, and Mr. +Mathieson used to think they were the best +things that ever were made: now, if Mrs. Moss, +a neighbour, would lend her waffle-iron, and she +could get a few eggs, she believed she could +manage it still.</p> + +<p>"But we haven't the eggs, child," she said; +"and I don't believe any power under heaven +can get him to come away from that raising +frolic."</p> + +<p>Nor did Nettie. It was to no power <i>under</i> +heaven that she trusted. But she must use her +means. She easily got the iron from Mrs. Moss. +Then she borrowed the eggs from Madame Auguste, +who in Lent-time always had them; then +she watched with grave eyes, and many a heart-prayer +the while, the mixing and making of the +waffles.</p> + +<p>"How do you manage the iron, mother?"</p> + +<p>"Why, it is made hot," said Mrs. Mathieson, +"very hot, and buttered; and then, when the +batter is light, you pour it in and clap it together, +and put it in the stove."</p> + +<p>"But how can you pour it in, mother? I don't +see how you can fill the iron."</p> + +<p>"Why, you can't, child; you fill one half, and +shut it together: and when it bakes it rises up +and fills the other half. You'll see."</p> + +<p>The first thing Nettie asked when she came +home from school in the afternoon was, if the +waffles were light?</p> + +<p>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 +won't be waffles without sugar and cinnamon. +I'm afraid he'll think<span class="nowrap">——</span>but I don't believe +you'll get him home to think anything about +them."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Mathieson ended with a sigh. Nettie said +nothing; she went round the room, putting it in +particularly nice order, then set the table. When +all that was right, she went up to her garret, and +knelt down and prayed that God would take +care of her and bless her errand. She put the +whole matter in the Lord's hands; then she +dressed herself in her hood and cloak, and went +down to her mother. Mr. Mathieson had not +come home to dinner, being busy with the +house-raising; so they had had no opportunity +to invite him, and Nettie was now on her way +to do it.</p> + +<p>"It's turned a bad afternoon; I'm afraid it +ain't fit for you to go, Nettie."</p> + +<p>"I don't mind," said Nettie. "Maybe I'll get +some sugar and cinnamon, mother, before I come +back."</p> + +<p>"Well, you know where the raising is; it's out +on the Shallonway road, on beyond Mrs. August's +a good bit."</p> + +<p>Nettie nodded and went out; and as the door +closed on her grave, sweet little face, her mother +felt a great strain on her heart. She would have +been glad to relieve herself by tears, but it was a +dry pain that would not be relieved so. She went +to the window and looked out at the weather.</p> + +<div class="center"> +<table class="sm" style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="2" summary="poem"> +<tr><td align="left">"Lord, Thy children guide and keep,</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1">As with feeble steps they press</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> On the pathway rough and steep,</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1">Through this weary wilderness.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> Holy <span class="smcap">Jesu</span>, day by day</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> Lead us in the narrow way.</td></tr> +<tr><td> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">"There are stony ways to tread;</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1">Give the strength we sorely lack.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> There are tangled paths to thread;</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1">Light us, lest we miss the track.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> Holy <span class="smcap">Jesu</span>, day by day</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> Lead us in the narrow way."</td></tr> +</table></div> +<p> </p> +<div class="center"> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4" summary="Illustration"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/i098.jpg"> + <img src="images/i098.jpg" height="30" + alt="DECORATION" /></a> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> +<p> </p> +<hr class="minimal" /> +<p> </p> +<div class="center"> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4" summary="Illustration"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/i099.jpg"> + <img src="images/i099.jpg" height="120" + alt="DECORATION" /></a> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> +<h3><a name="ch_7" id="ch_7"></a>CHAPTER VII.</h3> +<div class="center"> +<p class="noindent"><i><span class="small">THE WAFFLES.</span></i><br /> +<br /> +<span class="small">"My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways</span><br /> +<span class="small">my ways," saith the Lord.—<i>Isaiah</i> lv. 8.</span></p> +</div> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 80px;"> +<img src="images/i099a.jpg" width="90" alt="T" title="" /> +</div><div class="noindent">he early part of the day had been brilliant +and beautiful; then, March-like, +it had changed about, gathered up a +whole skyful 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 snow-flakes 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-bye. +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 frost 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.</div> + +<p>Mr. Jackson looked at her with more than usual +attention; and when Nettie asked him if he +would let her have a shilling's-worth of fine white +sugar and cinnamon, and trust her till the next +week for the money, he made not the slightest +difficulty, but measured or weighed it out for her +directly, and even said he would trust her for +more than that. So Nettie thanked him, and +went on to the less easy part of her errand. Her +heart began to beat a little bit now.</p> + +<p>The feathery snowflakes fell thicker, and made +everything wetter than ever; it was very raw and +chill, and few people were abroad. Nettie went +on, past the little bake-woman'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 palings along the road-side. 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 rang sharp on all sides of the frame; +some were up on the 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.</p> + +<p>Barry saw her first, but ungraciously would not +speak to her nor for her. If she was there for anything, +he said to himself, it was for some spoil-sport; +and one pail of water a day was enough for +him. Mr. Mathieson was looking the other way.</p> + +<p>"I say, Mathieson," called one of the men from +the inside of the frame, "I s'pose 'tain't worth carrying +any of this stuff—Jackson'll have enough +without it?"</p> + +<p>The words were explained, to Nettie's horror, +by a jug in the man's hands, which he lifted to +his lips.</p> + +<p>"Jackson will do something handsome in that +way to-night," said Nettie's father; "or he'll not +do as he's done by, such a wet evening. But I've +stood to my word, and I expect he'll stand to +his'n."</p> + +<p>"He gave his word there was to be oysters, +warn't it?" called another man, from the top of +the ladder.</p> + +<p>"Punch and oysters," said Mathieson, hammering +away, "or I've raised the last frame I ever +<i>will</i> raise for him. I expect he'll stand it."</p> + +<p>"Oysters ain't much 'count," said another +speaker. "I'd rather have a slice of good sweet +pork any day."</p> + +<p>"Father," said Nettie. She had come close up +to him, but she trembled. What possible chance +could she have?</p> + +<p>"Holloa!" said Mr. Mathieson, turning suddenly. +"Nettie!—what's the matter, girl?"</p> + +<p>He spoke roughly, and Nettie saw that his +face was red. She trembled all over, but spoke +as bravely as she could.</p> + +<p>"Father, I am come to invite you home to +supper to-night. Mother and I have a particular +reason to want to see you. Will you come?"</p> + +<p>"Come where?" said Mr. Mathieson, but half +understanding her.</p> + +<p>"Come home to tea, father. I came to ask +you. Mother has made something you like."</p> + +<p>"I'm busy, child. Go home. I'm going to +supper at Jackson's. Go home."</p> + +<p>He turned to his hammering again. But +Nettie stood still in the snow and waited.</p> + +<p>"Father," she said, after a minute, coming yet +closer and speaking more low.</p> + +<p>"What! ain't you gone?" exclaimed Mr. +Mathieson.</p> + +<p>"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. Won't you come and +have them with us? Mother says they'll be very +nice."</p> + +<p>"Why didn't she make 'em another time," +grumbled Barry, "when we weren't going to +punch and oysters? That's a better game."</p> + +<p>If Mathieson had not been drinking, he might +have been touched by the sight of Nettie; so +very white and delicate her little face looked, +trembling and eager, within that border of her +black hood, on which the snow crystals lay, a +very doubtful and unwholesome embroidery. She +looked as if she was going to melt and disappear +like one of them; and perhaps Mr. Mathieson +did feel the effect of her presence, but he felt it +only to be vexed and irritated; and Barry's suggestion +fell into ready ground.</p> + +<p>"I tell you, go home!" he said, roughly. +"What are you doing here? I tell you I'm <i>not</i> +coming home—I'm engaged to supper to-night, +and I'm not going to miss it for any fool's nonsense. +Go home!"</p> + +<p>Nettie's lip trembled, but that was all the outward +show of the agitation within. She would +not have delayed to obey if her father had been +quite himself; but 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."</p> + +<p>"Cinnamon and sugar—" he cursed with a +great oath; and turning, gave Nettie a violent +push from him, which was half a blow. "Go +home!" he repeated—"go home and mind your +own business, and don't take it upon you to mind +mine."</p> + +<p>Nettie reeled, staggered, and coming blindly +against one or two timbers that lay on the ground, +she fell heavily over them. Nobody saw her; but +that her father should have laid a rough hand on +her hurt her sorely; it hurt her bitterly. He had +never done so before; and the cause why he came +to do it now rather made it more sorrowful than +less so to Nettie's mind.</p> + +<p>She could not help a few salt tears from falling; +and for a moment Nettie's faith trembled. +Feeling weak, and broken, and miserable, the +thought came coldly across her mind, <i>would</i> the +Lord not hear her, after all? It was but a moment +of faith-trembling, but it made her ill. 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 on her road +till she neared the shop of Madame Auguste, then +she felt herself growing very ill, and just reached +the Frenchwoman's door to faint away on her +steps.</p> + +<p>She did not remain there two seconds. Madame +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 laid 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.</p> + +<p>"Why, my Nettie," said the little woman, "what +is this, my child? what is the matter with you?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know. But I must go home!" said +Nettie, trying to raise herself. "Mother will want +me—she'll want me."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Nettie lay still, feeling weak after that exertion +of trying to raise herself. She was quite restored +now, and her first thoughts were of grief that she +had for a moment failed to trust fully the Lord's +promises. She fully 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, <i>He heard</i>." "Our heart shall rejoice in +Him, <i>because we have trusted in His holy name</i>." +Prayer for forgiveness, and a thanksgiving of +great peace, filled Nettie's heart all the while +the Frenchwoman was gone.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Madame Auguste had been looking +into the street, and seeing nobody out in the wet +snow, she rushed back to Nettie. Nettie was +like herself now, only very pale.</p> + +<p>"I must have cut my lip somehow," she said; +"there's blood on my handkerchief. How did I +come in here?"</p> + +<p>"Blood!" said the Frenchwoman; "where did +you cut yourself, Nettie? Let me look!"</p> + +<p>Which she did, with a face so anxious and +eager that Nettie smiled at her. Her own brow +was as quiet and placid as ever it was.</p> + +<p>"How did I get in here, Mrs. August?"</p> + +<p>The Frenchwoman, however, did not answer +her. Instead of which she went to her cupboard +and got a cup and spoon, and then from a little +saucepan on the stove dipped out some <i>riz-au-gras</i> +again.</p> + +<p>"What did you have for dinner, Nettie? you +did not tell me."</p> + +<p>"Not much—I wasn't hungry," said Nettie. +"Oh, I must get up and go home to mother."</p> + +<p>"You shall eat something first," said her friend; +and she raised Nettie's head upon another pillow, +and began to feed her with the spoon. "It is +good for you. You must take it. Where is your +father? Don't talk, but tell me. I will do +everything right."</p> + +<p>"He is at work on Mr. Jackson's new house."</p> + +<p>"Is he there to-day?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>Madame 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.</p> + +<p>"Is Mr. Mat'ieson there?" she said. Madame +Auguste hardly knew him by sight. "Men, I say! +is Mr. Mat'ieson there?"</p> + +<p>"George, that's you; you're wanted," said one +of the group, looking back; and a fine-looking +tall man paused at Madame's threshold.</p> + +<p>"Are you Mr. Mat'ieson?" said the Frenchwoman.</p> + +<p>"Yes, ma'am. That's my name."</p> + +<p>"Will you come in? I have something to speak +to you. Your little daughter Nettie is very ill."</p> + +<p>"Ill!" exclaimed the man. "Nettie!—Where +is she?"</p> + +<p>"She is here. Hush! you must not say nothing +to her, but she is very ill. She is come fainting +at my door, and I have got her in here; but she +wants to go home, and I think you had better +tell her she will not go home, but she will stay +here with me to-night."</p> + +<p>"Where is she?" said Mr. Mathieson; and he +stepped in with so little ceremony that the mistress +of the house gave way before him. He +looked round the shop.</p> + +<p>"She is not here—you shall see her—but you +must not tell her she is ill," said the Frenchwoman, +anxiously.</p> + +<p>"Where is she?" repeated Mr. Mathieson, with +a tone and look which made Madame Auguste +afraid he would burst the doors if she did not +open them. She opened the inner door without +further preparation, and Mr. Mathieson walked +in. By the fading light he saw Nettie lying on +the floor at his feet. He was thoroughly himself +now; sobered in more ways than one. He stood +still when he had got there, and spoke not a +word.</p> + +<p>"Father," said Nettie, softly.</p> + +<p>He stooped down over her. "What do you +want, Nettie?"</p> + +<p>"Can't I go home?"</p> + +<p>"She must better not go home to-night," began +Madame Auguste, earnestly, "it is so wet and +cold! She will stay here with me to-night, Mr. +Mat'ieson. You will tell her that it is best."</p> + +<p>But Nettie said, "<i>Please</i> 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.</p> + +<p>"Have you got anything to put over her?" he +said, looking round the room. "I'll fetch it back."</p> + +<p>Seeing that the matter was quite taken out of +her hands, the kind little Frenchwoman was very +quick in her arrangements. She put on Nettie's +head a warm hood of her own; then round her +and over her she wrapped a thick woollen counterpane, +that to be sure would have let no snow +through if the distance to be travelled had been +twice as far. As she folded and arranged the +thick stuff round Nettie's head, so as to shield +even her face from the outer air, she said, half +whispering,</p> + +<p>"I would not tell nothing to mother about your +lip; it is not much. I wish I could keep you. +Now she is ready, Mr. Mat'ieson."</p> + +<p>And Mr. Mathieson stalked out of the house +and strode along the road with firm, swift steps, +till, past Jackson's, and past the turning, he came +to his own door, and carried Nettie upstairs. He +never said a word the whole way. Nettie was +too muffled up and too feeble to speak; so the +first word was when he had come in and sat down +in a chair, which he did with Nettie still in his +arms. Mrs. Mathieson, standing white and silent, +waited to see what was the matter; she had no +power to ask a question. Her husband unfolded +the counterpane that was wrapped round Nettie's +head; and there she was, looking very like her +usual self, only exceedingly pale. As soon as she +caught sight of her mother's face, Nettie would +have risen and stood up, but her father's arms +held her fast. "What do you want, Nettie?" he +asked. It was the first word.</p> + +<p>"Nothing, father," said Nettie, "only lay me +on the bed, please; and then you and mother +have supper."</p> + +<p>Mr. Mathieson took her to the bed and laid +her gently down, removing the wet counterpane +which was round her.</p> + +<p>"What is the matter?" faltered Mrs. Mathieson.</p> + +<p>"Nothing much, mother," said Nettie, quietly; +"only I was a little ill. Won't you bake the +waffles and have supper?"</p> + +<p>"What will <i>you</i> have?" said her father.</p> + +<p>"Nothing—I've had something. I feel nicely +now," said Nettie. "Mother, won't you have +supper, and let me see you?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Mathieson's strength had well-nigh deserted +her; but Nettie's desire was urgent, and +seeing that her husband had seated himself by +the bed-side, 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 +<i>her</i>. 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. +Auguste's, and brought her home; that was about +all.</p> + +<p>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,</p> + +<p>"What was that about your lip?"</p> + +<p>Nettie started: she thought he would fancy it +had it 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. Auguste's threshold, when she had +fainted.</p> + +<p>"Show me your handkerchief," said her father. +Nettie obeyed. He looked at it, and looked close +at her lips, to find where they might have been +wounded; and Nettie was sorry to see how much +he felt, for he even looked pale himself as he +turned away from her. But he was as gentle and +kind as he could be! Nettie had never seen him +so; and when he went off up to bed, and Nettie +was drawn into her mother's arms to go to sleep, +she was very, very happy. But she did not tell +her hopes or her joys to her mother; she only +told her thanks to the Lord; and that she did +till she fell asleep.</p> + +<p>The next morning Nettie was well enough to +get up and dress herself. That was all she was +suffered to do by father or mother. Mr. Mathieson +sent Barry for water and wood, and himself +looked after the fire while Mrs. Mathieson was +busy; all the rest he did was to take Nettie in +his arms and sit holding her till breakfast was +ready. He did not talk, and he kept Barry quiet: +he was like a different man. Nettie, feeling indeed +very weak, could only sit with her head on +her father's shoulder, and wonder, and think, and +repeat quiet prayers in her heart. She was very +pale yet, and it distressed Mr. Mathieson to see +that she could not eat. So he laid her on the +bed when he was going to his work, and told her +she was to stay there and be still, and he would +bring her something good when he came home.</p> + +<p>He was as good as his word, and at night +brought home some oysters, to tempt Nettie's +appetite; but it was much more to her that he +stayed quietly at home, and never made a move +towards going out. Eating was not in Nettie's +line just now; the kind little Frenchwoman had +been to see her in the course of the day, and +brought some delicious rolls and a jug of <i>riz-au-gras</i>, +which was what seemed to suit Nettie's +appetite best of all.</p> +<p> </p> +<div class="center"> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4" summary="Illustration"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/i116.jpg"> + <img src="images/i116.jpg" height="25" + alt="DECORATION" /></a> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> +<p> </p> +<hr class="minimal" /> +<p> </p> +<div class="center"> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4" summary="Illustration"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/i117.jpg"> + <img src="images/i117.jpg" height="120" + alt="DECORATION" /></a> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> +<h3><a name="ch_8" id="ch_8"></a>CHAPTER VIII.</h3> +<div class="center"> +<p class="noindent"><i><span class="small">THE GOLDEN CITY.</span></i><br /> +<br /> +<span class="small">"Blessed are the peacemakers."—<i>Matt.</i> v. 9."</span></p> +</div> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 80px;"> +<img src="images/i117a.jpg" width="90" alt="D" title="" /> +</div><div class="noindent">everal days went on. She did not feel +ill, 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.</div> + +<p>Mrs. Mathieson, in the midst of all her distress +about Nettie, began to draw some free breaths. +But her husband thought only of his child—unless, +perhaps, of himself—and drew none. Regularly +after supper he would draw Nettie to his +arms, and sit with her head upon his shoulder; +silent generally, only he would sometimes ask her +what she would like. The first time he put this +inquiry when Mr. Lumber was out of the way, +Nettie answered by asking him to read to her. +Mr. Mathieson hesitated a little, not unkindly, +and then read—a chapter in the Bible, of course, +for Nettie wished to hear nothing else. And after +that he often read to her; for Mr. Lumber kept +up his old habits and preferred livelier company, +and so was always out in the evenings.</p> + +<p>So several days passed; and when Saturday +came, Mr. Mathieson lost half a day's work, and +took a long walk to a farm where the people kept +pigeons, and brought home one for Nettie's supper. +However, she could fancy but little of it.</p> + +<p>"What shall I do for you?" said her father. +"You go round like a shadow, and you don't eat +much more. What shall I do that you would +like?"</p> + +<p>This time there was nobody in the room. +Nettie lifted her head from his shoulders and +met his eyes,</p> + +<p>"If you would come to Jesus, father!"</p> + +<p>"What does that mean, Nettie? You know +I don't know."</p> + +<p>"It means, father, that Jesus is holding out His +hand with a promise to you. Now, if you will +take the promise,—that is all."</p> + +<p>"What is the promise, Nettie?"</p> + +<p>Nettie waited, gathered breath, for the talk +made her heart beat, and then said, "'This is the +promise that He hath promised us, even eternal +life.'"</p> + +<p>"How can a sinful man take such a promise?" +said Mr. Mathieson, with suppressed feeling. +"That is for people like you, Nettie, not me."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Jesus, has bought it!" cried Nettie; "it's +free. It's without price. You may have it if +you'll believe in Him and love Him, father.—I +can't talk."</p> + +<p>She had talked too much, or the excitement +had been too strong for her. Her words were +broken off by coughing, and she remarked that +her lip must have bled again. Her father laid +her on the bed, and from that time for a number +of days she was kept as quiet as possible; for +her strength had failed anew, and yet more than +at first.</p> + +<p>For two weeks she hardly moved from the bed. +But except that she was so very pale, she did +not look very ill; her face wore just its own +patient and happy expression. Her father would +not now let her talk to him; but he did everything +she asked. He read to her in the Bible; +Nettie would turn over the leaves to the place +she wanted, and then point it out to him with a +look of life, and love, and pleasure, that were +like a whole sermon; and her father read first +that sermon and then the chapter. He went to +church as she asked him; and without her asking +him, after the first Sunday. Nettie stayed +at home on the bed, and sang psalms in her +heart.</p> + +<p>After those two weeks there was a change for +the better. Nettie felt stronger, looked more as +she used to look, and got up and even went about +a little. The weather was changing too, now. +April days were growing soft and green; trees +budding and grass freshening up, and birds all +alive in the branches; and above all, the air and +the light, the wonderful soft breath of spring, and +sunshine of spring, made people forget that winter +had ever been harsh or severe.</p> + +<p>Nettie went out and took little walks in the +sun which seemed to do her good; and she begged +so hard to be allowed to go to her garret again, +that her father took pity on her, sent Mr. Lumber +away, and gave her her old nice little room on +the same floor with the others. Her mother +cleaned it and put it in order, and Nettie felt +too happy when she found herself mistress of it +again, and possessed of a quiet place where she +could read and pray alone. With windows open, +how sweetly the spring walked in there, and +made it warm, and bright, and fragrant too!</p> + +<p>Nettie wished she could sing, for she had often +seen singing comfort her mother; but she had not +the power to-day. She gave her the best she +could. Her words, however, constantly carried +hurt and healing together to her mother's mind. +But when Nettie went on to repeat softly the +verse of a hymn that follows, she was soothed, +notwithstanding the hinted meaning in the words. +So sweet was the trust of the hymn, so unruffled +the trust of the speaker. The words were from +a little bit of a book of translations of German +hymns which Mr. Folke, her Sunday-school +teacher, had brought her, and which was never +out of Nettie's hand.</p> + +<div class="center"> +<table class="sm" style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="2" summary="poem"> +<tr><td align="left">"As <span class="smcap">God</span> leads me, so my heart</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"> </span>In faith shall rest.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">No grief nor fear my soul shall part</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"> </span>From <span class="smallcaps">Jesus'</span> breast.</td></tr> +<tr><td> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">"In sweet belief I know</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">What way my life doth go;</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Since <span class="smallcaps">God</span> permitteth so,</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">That must be best."</td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<p>Slowly she said the words, with her usual +sober, placid face; and Mrs. Mathieson was +mute.</p> + +<p>For some weeks, as the spring breathed warmer +and warmer, Nettie revived; so much that her +mother at times felt encouraged about her. Mr. +Mathieson was never deceived. Whether his +former neglect of his child had given him particular +keenness of vision in all that concerned +her now, or for whatever reason, <i>he</i> 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?</p> + +<p>One Sunday, late in May, 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 for +some time, while the birds sang on.</p> + +<p>"Father," said Nettie.</p> + +<p>He turned instantly, and asked her what she +wanted.</p> + +<p>"Father," said Nettie, "the streets of the +heavenly city are all of gold."</p> + +<p>"Well," said he, meeting her grave eyes, "and +what then, Nettie?"</p> + +<p>"Only I was thinking, if the <i>streets</i> are gold, +how clean must the feet be that walk on them!"</p> + +<p>He knew what her intent eyes meant, and +he sat down by her bed-side and laid his face +in his hands. "I am a sinful man, Nettie!" he +said.</p> + +<p>"Father, 'this is a faithful saying, that Jesus +Christ came into the world to save sinners.'"</p> + +<p>"I don't deserve He should save me, Nettie."</p> + +<p>"Well, father, ask Him to save you, <i>because</i> you +don't deserve it."</p> + +<p>"What sort of a prayer would that be?"</p> + +<p>"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 '<i>He</i> +is our peace.' Oh, 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?"</p> + +<p>"God knows I am willing!" said Mr. Mathieson.</p> + +<p>"<i>He</i> is willing, I am sure," said Nettie.</p> + +<p>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?"</p> + +<p>"Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ."</p> + +<p>"How, child?"</p> + +<p>"Father, the best way is to ask Him, and He +will tell you how. If you are only willing to be +His servant, if you are willing to give yourself +to the Lord Jesus—are you willing, father?"</p> + +<p>"I am willing—anything!—if He will have +me," said Mr. Mathieson.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Then slumber stole over her, and she slept +sweetly and quietly while the hours of the summer +afternoon rolled away. Her mother watched beside +her for a long while before she awoke, and +during that time read surely in Nettie's delicate +cheek and too delicate colour what was the sentence +of separation. She read it, and smothered +the cry of her heart, for Nettie's sake.</p> + +<p>The sun was descending toward the western +hill country, and long level rays of light were +playing in the tree-tops, when Nettie awoke.</p> + +<p>"Are you there, mother?" she said—"and is +the Sunday so near over? How I have slept!"</p> + +<p>"How do you feel, dear?"</p> + +<p>"Why, I feel well," said Nettie. "It has been +a good day. The gold is all in the air here—not +in the streets." She had half raised herself, and +was sitting looking out of the window.</p> + +<p>"Do you think of that city all the time?" inquired +Mrs. Mathieson, half jealously.</p> + +<p>"Mother," said Nettie, slowly, still looking out +at the sunlight, "would you be very sorry, and +very much surprised, if I were to go there before +long?"</p> + +<p>"I should not be very much surprised, Nettie," +answered her mother, in a tone that told all the +rest. Her child's eye turned to her sorrowfully +and understandingly.</p> + +<p>"You'll not be very long before you'll be there +too," she said. "Now kiss me, mother."</p> + +<p>Could Mrs. Mathieson help it? She took +Nettie in her arms, but instead of the required +kiss, there came a burst of passion that bowed her +head in convulsive grief against her child's breast.</p> + +<p>Ashamed of her giving way, Mrs. Mathieson +checked herself and dried her tears. Nettie lay +down wearily.</p> + +<p>"I will stay here, mother," she said, "till tea is +ready; and then I will come."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Mathieson went to attend to it.</p> + +<p>When Nettie went into the other room, her +father was sitting there. She said nothing, however, +and even for some time did not look in his +face to see what he might have to say to her. +She took a cup of tea and a biscuit, and ate 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.</p> + +<p>"I understand it now, Nettie," he said; then +drew her close within his arms; and without one +word Nettie sat there, till for very happiness and +weariness she fell asleep, and he carried her to +her room.</p> + +<p>There was a great calm fell upon the family +for a little time thereafter. It was like one of +those spring days that were past—full of misty +light, and peace, and hope, and promise. It was +a breath of rest.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"How soon do you think father will be home?" +she said.</p> + +<p>"Not before another hour, I think," said Mrs. +Mathieson. "Why, what of it, Nettie?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing<span class="nowrap">——</span>" said Nettie, doubtfully. "I'd +like him to come."</p> + +<p>"It won't be long," said her mother.</p> + +<p>"Mother, I am going to give you my little +dear hymn-book," said Nettie presently; "and I +want to read you a hymn now, and then you will +think of me when you read it. May I?"</p> + +<p>"Read," said Mrs. Mathieson; and she put up +her hand to hide her face from Nettie. Nettie +did not look, however; her eyes were on her +hymn, and she read it, low and sweetly—very +sweetly—through. There was no tremor in her +voice, but now and then a little accent of joy or +a shade of tenderness.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Mathieson's head bowed as the hymn +went on, but she dared not give way to tears, and +Nettie's manner half awed and half charmed her +into quietness. When the reading ceased, and +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 he was not there. They could not +tell; she lay without taking any notice.</p> + +<p>But just as the last rays of the sun were bright +in the leaves of the trees and on the hills in the +distance, Mr. Mathieson's step was heard. One +of the neighbours met him and told him what he +must expect; and he came straight to Nettie's +room. And when he bent down over her and +spoke, Nettie knew his voice, and opened her +eyes, and once more smiled. It was like a smile +from another country. Her eyes were fixed on +him. Mr. Mathieson bent yet nearer and put his +lips to hers; then he tried to speak.</p> + +<p>"My little peacemaker, what shall I do without +you?"</p> + +<p>Nettie drew a long, long breath. "Peace—is—made!" +she slowly said.</p> + +<p>And the peacemaker was gone.</p> + +<div class="center"> +<table class="sm" style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="2" summary="poem"> +<tr><td align="left">"There's a rest for little children.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"> </span>Above the bright blue sky,</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Who love the blessed Saviour,</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"> </span>And to His Father cry,</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">A rest from every trouble,</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"> </span>From sin and danger free,</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">There every little pilgrim</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"> </span>Shall rest eternally.</td></tr> +<tr><td> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">"There's a home for little children,</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"> </span>Above the bright blue sky,</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Where <span class="smallcaps">Jesus</span> reigns in glory,</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"> </span>A home of peace and joy;</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">No home on earth is like it,</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"> </span>Nor can with it compare,</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">For every one is happy,</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"> </span>Nor can be happier there.</td></tr> +<tr><td> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">"There are crowns for little children,</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"> </span>Above the bright blue sky;</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">And all who look to <span class="smallcaps">Jesus</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"> </span>Shall wear them by-and-bye,</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Yea, crowns of brightest glory,</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"> </span>Which He shall sure bestow</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">On all who love the Saviour</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"> </span>And walk with Him below."</td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<p> </p> +<div class="center"> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4" summary="Illustration"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/i130.jpg"> + <img src="images/i130.jpg" height="30" + alt="DECORATION" /></a> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> +<p> </p> +<h3>NOTES</h3> +<p><a name="fn1" id="fn1"></a><a href="#fn1_r">1</a> A festival common in America on the completion of a +house.</p> + +<p><a name="fn2" id="fn2"></a><a href="#fn2_r">2</a> <i>Waffles</i>, a species of sweet cake used on such festivals +in America.</p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="minimal" /> +<p> </p> +<table class="sm" border="0" style="background-color: #E6F6FA; margin: 0 auto" cellspacing="2" cellpadding="4" summary="NOTES"> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"> + <div class="center">TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE</div> + +<p class="noindent" style="background-color: #E6F6FA"> +Hyphenation is inconsistent, and some of the punctuation is +non-standard. The helpful French lady appears as Madame Auguste in the +narrative, but as Mrs. August when she is addressed in English. One +instance of Mathison was changed to match all the Mathiesons.<br /> +<br /> +One additional change was made and can be identified in the body of the text +by a grey dotted underline:</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align="left" valign="top">"That would make the fire worse," said one of girls.</td> +<td align="left" valign="top" class="w50">"That would make the fire worse," said one of <i>the</i> girls.</td> +</tr> +</table> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Little Nettie, by +Susan Bogert Warner and Anna Bartlett Warner + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LITTLE NETTIE *** + +***** This file should be named 35983-h.htm or 35983-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/5/9/8/35983/ + +Produced by Delphine Lettau and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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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: Little Nettie + or, Home Sunshine + +Author: Susan Bogert Warner + Anna Bartlett Warner + +Release Date: April 27, 2011 [EBook #35983] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LITTLE NETTIE *** + + + + +Produced by Delphine Lettau and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + LITTLE NETTIE. + + [Illustration: MR. MATHIESON STALKED OUT OF THE HOUSE AND STRODE + ALONG THE ROAD.] + + + + + LITTLE NETTIE; + + OR, + HOME SUNSHINE. + + + BY THE AUTHOR OF "THE WIDE, WIDE WORLD," + ETC., ETC. + + + LONDON: + FREDERICK WARNE & CO. + AND NEW YORK. + + + + + CONTENTS. + + CHAPTER PAGE + + I.--_Saturday Evening's Work_ 5 + + II.--_Sunday's Rest_ 23 + + III.--_Nettie's Garret_ 57 + + IV.--_The Brown Cloak in November_ 67 + + V.--_The New Blanket_ 77 + + VI.--_The House-Raising_ 88 + + VII.--_The Waffles_ 97 + + VIII.--_The Golden City_ 115 + + + + +LITTLE NETTIE; + +OR, + +HOME SUNSHINE. + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +_SATURDAY EVENING'S WORK._ + + "Tender and only beloved in the sight of my mother."-- + _Prov._ iv. 3. + + +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 footpath 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 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. + +"Oh, 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." + +"Oh, yes, mother dear. 'For we which have believed do enter into rest.' +The Lord 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 won't 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 steps which led to their part of the house. The ground +floor was occupied by somebody else. A little entry-way 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 won't 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 bed-room. 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 bed-clothes 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 tails, 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 she 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 she 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 feelings, that she began softly +to sing to herself,-- + + "'There is rest for the weary.'" + +"Hallo!" 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 won't have time to fly it now, Barry; supper will be ready in two +minutes." + +"What have 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 give 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-bye, 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 confoundedly +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 sun-beams, 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 side-walks, 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 shabby, 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 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. + +"Oh, 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." + +"Hurrah!" 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." + +"Oh, 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 farther 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, but rather slowly. + +"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." + +"Oh 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 hands, 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 upstairs quite briskly, and came in +with a very placid face, and told her mother she had had a pleasant +walk--which was perfectly true. + +"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 +more 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 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._ + + "This is the day which the Lord hath made; we will rejoice + and be glad in it."--_Psalm_ cxviii, 24. + + +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 +connection 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 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 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 her 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 night-gown; 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 room 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 do it," she thought. It nerved her little +arm, and one thought of her invisible Protector nerved her heart, which +had sunk at first coming up. Softly she moved and began her operations, +lest her mother downstairs 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 and +turned over and 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 expected 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 thought 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 pleasant time when she went to enjoy them all together. It +was only a little way she had to go, for the road where Mrs. Mathieson +lived, after running down a little farther 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 she watched 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 who 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 rough ways and hardly feel that they are +rough. Do you find it so?" + +"Oh 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 St. 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 Netty 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 any more; "and they shall +see His face, and His name shall be in their foreheads." + +From school they went to church, of course. A strange clergyman 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 upstairs. 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 not 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 ate it with an +eagerness which let Nettie know she must make another slice as fast as +possible. + +"Hallo! 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 upstairs, and the red bedstead to bring down." + +"No, mother," said Nettie, gently, "all my things are upstairs 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-bye if she has a little rest. Do you think you would mind helping +me put up this bedstead?" + +"Well, here goes!" returned 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 +to 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, won't 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, won't 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.'" + +"Oh, 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, Jane?" + +Jane 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, Jane; 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 +list," said one of the class. + +"You won't 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 Jane. + +"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, people's 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. + +"Hallo, cakes!--hallo, 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 bidden; 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 downstairs, Nettie +and her mother looked at each other. + +"There's only one left, mother," said Nettie. + +"And he has certainly eaten 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 lighted 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 would 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 moon-beams 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 week-days +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-bye, 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, and 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. + + "O day of rest and gladness! + O day of joy and light! + O balm of care and sadness, + Most beautiful, most bright! + On thee the high and lowly, + Through ages join'd in tune, + Sing, Holy, Holy, Holy, + To the great God Triune." + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +_NETTIE'S GARRET._ + + "I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me."--_Psalm_ xxiii. 4. + + +Nettie's attic grew to be a very pleasant 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. + +The 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 on 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 was 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 the 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," said she, 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 or 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. + +"Don't that chapter comfort you, mother?" she whispered. + +"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." + +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 now not 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. 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 began to suspect 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. 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 won't 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. + +"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 on 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. Ain't 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 within 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. + +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 in +the 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 work 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 or 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._ + + "How long, O Lord?"--_Rev._ vi. 10. + + +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. + +"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. + +"Somebody's got to go to Mr. Jackson's, but you ain't fit, child; you +ate next to nothing 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 wrapt 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. + +"What do you want?" said Mr. Jackson, rather curtly, when Nettie's turn +came to be served, 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 Madame 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 Madame 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 +Madame 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. Madame 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 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, Madame 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 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. + + "Scarce discerning aught before us, + On our weary way we go; + But one guiding star is o'er us, + Beaming forth the way to show. + + "Watch we, pray we, that we sink not, + Journeying on while yet we can; + At a moment when we think not + We shall meet the Son of Man." + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +_THE NEW BLANKET._ + + "Lift up your hands in the sanctuary, and bless the Lord." + _Ps._ cxxxiv. 2. + + +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 seemed 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 wainscoat 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's. +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 all tears from their eyes." + +"His servants shall serve Him,"--thought Nettie; "and mother 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 the 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 won't 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 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 +ain't 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," said Mrs. Mathieson. + +"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 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 at a quarter after ten; will you be ready then?" + +"Ready for what?" said Mr. Mathieson. + +"For my New Year's gift," said Nettie. "You know you promised I should +go to church with you." + +"Did I? And ain't you going to take the blanket for your New Year's +gift, 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! 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 were 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. + + "Well I know thy troubles, + O My servant true! + Thou art very weary-- + I was weary too: + But that toil shall make thee + Some day all Mine own; + And the end of sorrow + Shall be near My throne!" + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +_THE HOUSE-RAISING._[1] + + "In your patience possess ye your souls."--_Luke_ xxi. 19. + + +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. + + Footnote 1: A festival common in America on the completion of a + house. + +One morning Nettie 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 won't 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 towards 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? O 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 spilt 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." + +"Why did you make me do it, then?" said he angrily. "You got it your own +way this time. But never mind; I'll be even 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 smelt sweet with +the opening buds. + +"There's that house-raising to-morrow, Nettie," said Mrs. Mathieson; +"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 ill--or anything to keep him away. They make such a time after +a house-raising." + +"Oh, 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[2], 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. + + Footnote 2: _Waffles_, a species of sweet cake used on such + festivals in America. + +"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." + +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 Madame 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 won't 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 ain't fit for you to go, +Nettie." + +"I don't mind," said Nettie. "Maybe 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, her mother 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. + + "Lord, Thy children guide and keep, + As with feeble steps they press + On the pathway rough and steep, + Through this weary wilderness. + Holy JESU, day by day + Lead us in the narrow way. + + "There are stony ways to tread; + Give the strength we sorely lack. + There are tangled paths to thread; + Light us, lest we miss the track. + Holy JESU, day by day + Lead us in the narrow way." + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +_THE WAFFLES._ + + "My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways + my ways," saith the Lord.--_Isaiah_ lv. 8. + + +The early part of the day had been brilliant and beautiful; then, +March-like, it had changed about, gathered up a whole skyful 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 snow-flakes +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-bye. 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 frost 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 bake-woman'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 palings along +the road-side. 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 rang sharp +on all sides of the frame; some were up on the 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 'tain't 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 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 ain't 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? + +"Holloa!" said Mr. Mathieson, turning suddenly. "Nettie!--what's the +matter, girl?" + +He spoke roughly, and Nettie saw that his face was red. She trembled all +over, but 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! ain't 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. Won't 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; but 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, which was half a blow. "Go home!" he +repeated--"go home and mind your own 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; but +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 +ill. 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 +on her road till she neared the shop of Madame 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. Madame 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 laid 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. 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 failed to trust fully the Lord's +promises. She fully 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 Madame 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. "Oh, 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." + +Madame 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. Madame 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 ill." + +"Ill!" exclaimed the man. "Nettie!--Where is she?" + +"She is here. Hush! you must not say nothing to her, but she is very +ill. 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 +ill," said the Frenchwoman, anxiously. + +"Where is she?" repeated Mr. Mathieson, with a tone and look which made +Madame 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 Madame 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 to 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 +wet counterpane which was round her. + +"What is the matter?" faltered Mrs. Mathieson. + +"Nothing much, mother," said Nettie, quietly; "only I was a little ill. +Won't 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, +won't 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 +bed-side, 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. +Auguste'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 it 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. Auguste'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. + +He was as good as his word, and at night brought home some oysters, to +tempt Nettie's appetite; but it was much more to her that he stayed +quietly at home, and never made a move towards going out. Eating was not +in Nettie's line just now; the kind little 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._ + + "Blessed are the peacemakers."--_Matt._ v. 9. + + +Several days went on. She did not feel ill, 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 upon +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 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 +shoulders and met his eyes, + +"If you would come to Jesus, father!" + +"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! + +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, 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 for 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 heavenly 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 bed-side 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.' Oh, 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. + +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. + +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 hill 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. + +Ashamed of her giving way, Mrs. Mathieson checked herself 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 ate 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; then drew her 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 past--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 won't 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 a 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. + +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. When the reading ceased, and 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 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. + + "There's a rest for little children. + Above the bright blue sky, + Who love the blessed Saviour, + And to His Father cry, + A rest from every trouble, + From sin and danger free, + There every little pilgrim + Shall rest eternally. + + "There's a home for little children, + Above the bright blue sky, + Where JESUS reigns in glory, + A home of peace and joy; + No home on earth is like it, + Nor can with it compare, + For every one is happy, + Nor can be happier there. + + "There are crowns for little children, + Above the bright blue sky; + And all who look to JESUS + Shall wear them by-and-bye, + Yea, crowns of brightest glory, + Which He shall sure bestow + On all who love the Saviour + And walk with Him below." + + + + +TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE + +Hyphenation is inconsistent, and some of the punctuation is non-standard. +The helpful French lady appears as Madame Auguste in the narrative, +but as Mrs. August when she is addressed in English. One instance of +Mathison was changed to match all the Mathiesons. + +One additional change was made to the text: + + "That would make the fire worse," said one of girls. + now reads: + "That would make the fire worse," said one of the girls. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Little Nettie, by +Susan Bogert Warner and Anna Bartlett Warner + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LITTLE NETTIE *** + +***** This file should be named 35983.txt or 35983.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/5/9/8/35983/ + +Produced by Delphine Lettau and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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