The Carpenters Daughter | Page 8

very pleasant and kind gentleman, named
Mr. Folke. Nettie loved him dearly; she would do anything that Mr.
Folke told her to do. Their teacher was very apt to give the children a
question to answer from the Bible; for which they had to look out texts
during the week. This week the question was, "Who are happy?" and
Nettie was very eager to know what answers the other girls would bring.
She was in good time, and sat resting and watching the boys and girls
and teachers as they came in, before the school began. She was first
there of all her class; and watching so eagerly to see those who were
coming, that she did not know Mr. Folke was near till he spoke to her.
Nettie started and turned.
"How do you do?" said her teacher, kindly. "Are you quite well, Nettie,
this morning?" For he thought she looked pale and tired. But her face
coloured with pleasure and a smile shone all over it, as she told him she
was very well.
"Have you found out who are the happy people, Nettie?"
"Yes, Mr. Folke; I have found a verse. But I knew before."
"I thought you did. Who are they, Nettie?"

"Those that love Jesus, sir."
"Ay. In the Christian armour, you know, the feet are 'shod with the
preparation of the Gospel of peace.' With the love of Jesus in our hearts,
our feet can go over very rough ways and hardly feel that they are
rough. Do you find it so?"
"O yes, sir!"
He said no more, for others of the class now came up; and Nettie
wondered how he knew, or if he knew, that she had a rough way to go
over. But his words were a help and comfort to her. So was the whole
lesson that day. The verses about the happy people were beautiful. The
seven girls who sat on one side of Nettie repeated the blessings told of
in the fifth chapter of Matthew, about the poor in spirit, the mourners,
the meek, those that hunger and thirst after righteousness, the merciful,
the pure in heart, and the peacemakers. Then came Nettie's verse. It
was this:
"Happy is he that hath the God of Jacob for his help, whose hope is in
the Lord his God."
The next girl gave the words of Jesus, "If ye know these things, happy
are ye if ye do them."
The last gave, "Blessed is he whose transgression is forgiven, whose
sin is covered."
Then came Mr. Folke's verse, and Nettie thought it was the most
beautiful of all. "Blessed are they that do his commandments, that they
may have right to the tree of life, and may enter in through the gates
into the city."
Then Mr. Folke talked about that city; its streets of gold, and the gates
of pearl, through which nothing that defileth can by any means enter.
He told how Jesus will make his people happy there; how they will be
with him, and all their tears wiped away. And Jesus will be their
Shepherd; his sheep will not wander from him anymore; "and they shall

see his face, and his name shall be in their foreheads." Nettie could
hardly keep from crying as Mr. Folke went on; she felt as if she was
half in heaven already, and it seemed very odd to cry for gladness; but
she could not help it. Then the school closed with singing the hymn,
"O how happy are they Who the Saviour obey, And have laid up their
treasures above."
From school they went to church, of course. A strange minister
preached that day, and Nettie could not understand him always; but the
words of the hymn and Mr. Folke's words ran in her head then, and she
was very happy all church time. And as she was walking home, still the
tune and the words ran in her ears,
"Jesus all the day long Is my joy and my song; O that all his salvation
might see!"
So, thinking busily, Nettie got home and ran up stairs. What a change!
It looked like a place very, very far from those gates of pearl.
Her mother sat on one side of the stove, not dressed for church, and
leaning her head on her hand. Mr. Mathieson was on the other side,
talking and angry. Barry stood back, playing ball by himself by
throwing it up and catching it again. The talk stopped at Nettie's
entrance. She threw off her bonnet and began to set the table, hoping
that would bring peace.
"Your father don't want any dinner," said Mrs. Mathieson.
"Yes I do!"--thundered her husband; "but I tell you I'll take anything
now; so leave your cooking till supper--when Lumber