It was now in the latter part of December--two days more and comes the
season of "Merry Christmas." Ellen thought of the dreary prospect before
her. As she was thinking over her condition, and how she should manage
affairs so as to make home comfortable, the door opened, and in came
Edward earlier than usual, a sober man. With a grateful heart Ellen sat
about preparing the supper, and made all the evening as pleasant as she
could for him.
The next morning earlier than usual Edward was preparing to go out. The
weather was bitter cold, and the wood pile was very low. She did not
like to ask Edward to split some wood the evening before, as she did
not wish to vex him. Of late he had harshly refused her simple requests.
She, however, ventured this morning to ask him to split a few logs, and
he replied:
"Why did you not ask me when you saw me doing nothing all last evening?
You must get along the best way you can until night. I have engaged to
work for Squire Davis, and I shall be late unless I go at once."
"To work! Have you?" said Ellen, in a pleased and grateful tone.
"Yes; so don't detain me. I am to have a dollar and a half a day as long
as I choose to work."
"How very fortunate!" said Ellen.
After he was gone, Ellen busied herself in making things comfortable for
the children. It was market day, and she must carry her heavy basket to
the village for the different families who depended upon her for their
supply of fresh butter and eggs. A year ago she had a neat little-wagon
and a good horse to drive. There was something in the mind of Ellen,
what it was she could not tell, a kind of sad presentiment of something,
as she was preparing to go to market. I shall tell you in the next story
what it was. You will see that Ellen was very kind to her husband, and
tried every way to make him happy.