The Carpenters Daughter | Page 8

you quite well, Nettie, this morning?" For he thought she looked pale and tired. But her face coloured with pleasure and a smile shone all over it, as she told him she was very well.
"Have you found out who are the happy people, Nettie?"
"Yes, Mr. Folke; I have found a verse. But I knew before."
"I thought you did. Who are they, Nettie?"
"Those that love Jesus, sir."
"Ay. In the Christian armour, you know, the feet are 'shod with the preparation of the Gospel of peace.' With the love of Jesus in our hearts, our feet can go over very rough ways and hardly feel that they are rough. Do you find it so?"
"O yes, sir!"
He said no more, for others of the class now came up; and Nettie wondered how he knew, or if he knew, that she had a rough way to go over. But his words were a help and comfort to her. So was the whole lesson that day. The verses about the happy people were beautiful. The seven girls who sat on one side of Nettie repeated the blessings told of in the fifth chapter of Matthew, about the poor in spirit, the mourners, the meek, those that hunger and thirst after righteousness, the merciful, the pure in heart, and the peacemakers. Then came Nettie's verse. It was this:
"Happy is he that hath the God of Jacob for his help, whose hope is in the Lord his God."
The next girl gave the words of Jesus, "If ye know these things, happy are ye if ye do them."
The last gave, "Blessed is he whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered."
Then came Mr. Folke's verse, and Nettie thought it was the most beautiful of all. "Blessed are they that do his commandments, that they may have right to the tree of life, and may enter in through the gates into the city."
Then Mr. Folke talked about that city; its streets of gold, and the gates of pearl, through which nothing that defileth can by any means enter. He told how Jesus will make his people happy there; how they will be with him, and all their tears wiped away. And Jesus will be their Shepherd; his sheep will not wander from him anymore; "and they shall see his face, and his name shall be in their foreheads." Nettie could hardly keep from crying as Mr. Folke went on; she felt as if she was half in heaven already, and it seemed very odd to cry for gladness; but she could not help it. Then the school closed with singing the hymn,
"O how happy are they Who the Saviour obey, And have laid up their treasures above."
From school they went to church, of course. A strange minister preached that day, and Nettie could not understand him always; but the words of the hymn and Mr. Folke's words ran in her head then, and she was very happy all church time. And as she was walking home, still the tune and the words ran in her ears,
"Jesus all the day long Is my joy and my song; O that all his salvation might see!"
So, thinking busily, Nettie got home and ran up stairs. What a change! It looked like a place very, very far from those gates of pearl.
Her mother sat on one side of the stove, not dressed for church, and leaning her head on her hand. Mr. Mathieson was on the other side, talking and angry. Barry stood back, playing ball by himself by throwing it up and catching it again. The talk stopped at Nettie's entrance. She threw off her bonnet and began to set the table, hoping that would bring peace.
"Your father don't want any dinner," said Mrs. Mathieson.
"Yes I do!"--thundered her husband; "but I tell you I'll take anything now; so leave your cooking till supper--when Lumber will be here. Go on, child! and get your work done."
There were no preparations for dinner, and Nettie was at a loss; and did not like to say anything for fear of bringing on a storm. Her mother looked both weary and out of temper. The kettle was boiling,--the only thing about the room that had a pleasant seeming.
"Will you have a cup of tea, father?" said Nettie.
"Anything you like--yes, a cup of tea will do; and hark'ye, child, I want a good stout supper got this afternoon. Your mother don't choose to hear me. Mr. Lumber is coming, and I want a good supper to make him think he's got to the right place. Do you hear, Nettie?"
"Yes, father."
Nettie went on to do the best she could. She warmed the remains of last night's porridge and gave it to Barry with treacle, to keep him quiet. Meanwhile she had made the tea, and toasted a slice of