The Carpenters Daughter | Page 5

the loaves in paper and measuring

out the milk. Nettie answered her mother was well.
"And you?" said the little woman, looking at her sideways. "Somebody
is tired this evening."
"Yes," said Nettie, brightly; "but I don't mind. One must be tired
sometimes. Thank you, ma'am."
The woman had put the loaves and the milk carefully in her arms and in
her hand, so that she could carry them, and looked after her as she went
up the street.
"One must be tired sometimes!" said she to herself, with a turn of her
capable little head. "I should like to hear her say 'One must be rested
sometimes;' but I do not hear that."
So perhaps Nettie thought, as she went homeward. It would have been
very natural. Now the sun was down, the bright gleam was off the
village; the soft shades of evening were gathering and lights twinkled
in windows. Nettie walked very slowly, her arms full of the bread.
Perhaps she wished her Saturday's work was all done, like other
people's. All I can tell you is, that as she went along through the quiet
deserted street, all alone, she broke out softly singing to herself the
words,
"No need of the sun in that day Which never is followed by night."
And that when she got home she ran up stairs quite briskly, and came
in with a very placid face; and told her mother she had had a pleasant
walk--which was perfectly true.
"I'm glad, dear," said her mother, with a sigh. "What made it pleasant?"
"Why, mother," said Nettie, "Jesus was with me all the way."
"God bless you, child!" said her mother; "you are the very rose of my
heart!"
There was only time for this little dialogue, for which Mr. Mathieson's

slumbers had given a chance. But then Barry entered, and noisily
claimed Nettie's promise. And without a cloud crossing her sweet brow,
she made the cakes, and baked them on the stove, and served Barry
until he had enough; nor ever said how weary she was of being on her
feet. There were some cakes left, and Mrs. Mathieson saw to it that
Nettie sat down and ate them; and then sent her off to bed without
suffering her to do anything more; though Nettie pleaded to be allowed
to clear away the dishes. Mrs. Mathieson did that; and then sat down to
make darns and patches on various articles of clothing, till the old clock
of the church on the hill tolled out solemnly the hour of twelve all over
the village.
CHAPTER II.
SUNDAY'S REST.
Nettie's room was the only room on that floor besides her mother's and
Barry's. It was at the back of the house, with a pleasant look-out over
the trees and bushes between it and the spring. Over these the view
went to distant hills and fields, that always looked pretty in all sorts of
lights, Nettie thought. Besides that, it was a clean, neat little room; bare
to be sure, without even Barry's strip of rag carpet; but on a little black
table lay Nettie's Bible and Sunday-school books; and each window
had a chair; and a chest of drawers held all her little wardrobe and a
great deal of room to spare besides; and the cot-bed in one corner was
nicely made up. It was a very comfortable-looking room to Nettie.
"So this is the last night I shall sleep here!" she thought as she went in.
"To-morrow I must go up to the attic. Well,--I can pray there just the
same; and God will be with me there just the same."
It was a comfort; but it was the only one Nettie could think of in
connexion with her removal. The attic was no room, but only a little
garret used as a lumber place; not boarded up, nor plastered at all;
nothing but the beams and the side-boarding for the walls, and nothing
but the rafters and the shingles between it and the sky. Besides which,
it was full of lumber of one sort and another. How Nettie was to move

up there the next day, being Sunday, she could not imagine; but she
was so tired that as soon as her head touched her pillow she fell fast
asleep, and forgot to think about it.
The next thing was the bright morning light rousing her, and the joyful
thought that it was Sunday morning. A beautiful day it was. The eastern
light was shining over upon Nettie's distant hills, with all sorts of fresh
lovely colours and promise of what the coming hours would bring.
Nettie looked at them lovingly, for she was very fond of them and had
a great many thoughts about those hills. "As the mountains are round
about Jerusalem,