The Carpenters Daughter

The Carpenter's Daughter, by

Anna Bartlett Warner and Susan Bogert Warner This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
Title: The Carpenter's Daughter
Author: Anna Bartlett Warner Susan Bogert Warner
Release Date: July 13, 2007 [EBook #22061]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
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[Illustration: NETTIE COMFORTS HER MOTHER.]

THE
CARPENTER'S DAUGHTER.
"Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of God."
BY THE AUTHORS OF "THE WIDE, WIDE WORLD," ETC. ETC.
WITH COLOURED FRONTISPIECE.
LONDON: GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS, THE BROADWAY, LUDGATE.

BY THE AUTHORS OF "THE WIDE, WIDE WORLD."
Price ONE SHILLING each, with coloured Frontispiece THE TWO SCHOOLGIRLS. THE CARPENTER'S DAUGHTER. THE PRINCE IN DISGUISE. GERTRUDE AND HER BIBLE. MARTHA AND RACHEL. THE WIDOW AND HER DAUGHTER. THE LITTLE BLACK HEN. THE ROSE IN THE DESERT.

GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS.
London: Savill, Edwards & Co., Printers, Chandos Street.

CONTENTS.
CHAP. PAGE
I. SATURDAY EVENING'S WORK 1
II. SUNDAY'S REST 20
III. NETTIE'S GARRET 55
IV. THE BROWN CLOAK IN NOVEMBER 69
V. THE NEW BLANKET 82
VI. THE HOUSE-RAISING 97
VII. THE WAFFLES 112
VIII. THE GOLDEN CITY 135

THE CARPENTER'S DAUGHTER.
CHAPTER I.
SATURDAY EVENING'S WORK.
Down in a little hollow, with the sides grown full of wild thorn, alder bushes, and stunted cedars, ran the stream of a clear spring. It ran over a bed of pebbly stones, showing every one as if there had been no water there, so clear it was; and it ran with a sweet soft murmur or gurgle over the stones, as if singing to itself and the bushes as it ran.
On one side of the little stream a worn foot path took its course among the bushes; and down this path one summer's afternoon came a woman and a girl. They had pails to fill at the spring; the woman had a large wooden one, and the girl a light tin pail; and they drew the water with a little tin dipper, for it was not deep enough to let a pail be used for that. The pails were filled in silence, only the spring always was singing; and the woman and the girl turned and went up the path again. After getting up the bank, which was only a few feet, the path still went gently rising through a wild bit of ground, full of trees and low bushes; and not far off, through the trees, there came a gleam of bright light from the window of a house, on which the setting sun was shining. Half way to the house the girl and the woman stopped to rest; for water is heavy, and the tin pail which was so light before it was filled, had made the little girl's figure bend over to one side like a willow branch all the way from the spring. They stopped to rest, and even the woman had a very weary, jaded look.
"I feel as if I shall give up, some of these days," she exclaimed.
"O no, mother!" the little girl answered, cheerfully. She was panting, with her hand on her side, and her face had a quiet, very sober look; only at those words a little pleasant smile broke over it.
"I shall," said the woman. "One can't stand everything,--for ever."
The little girl had not got over panting yet, but standing there she struck up the sweet air and words,--
"'There is rest for the weary, There is rest for the weary, There is rest for the weary, There is rest for you.'"
"Yes, in the grave!" said the woman, bitterly. "There's no rest short of that,--for mind or body."
"O yes, mother dear. 'For we which have believed do enter into rest.' Jesus don't make us wait."
"I believe you eat the Bible and sleep on the Bible," said the woman, with a faint smile, taking at the same time a corner of her apron to wipe away a stray tear which had gathered in her eye. "I am glad it rests you, Nettie."
"And you, mother."
"Sometimes," Mrs. Mathieson answered, with a sigh. "But there's your father going to bring home a boarder, Nettie."
"A boarder, mother!--What for?"
"Heaven knows!--if it isn't to break my back, and my heart together. I thought I had enough to manage before, but here's this man coming, and I've got to get everything ready for him by to-morrow night."
"Who is it, mother?"
"It's one of your father's friends; so it's no good," said Mrs. Mathieson.
"But where can he sleep?" Nettie asked, after a moment of thinking. Her mother paused.
"There's no room but yours he can have.