HATTY'S PEACEFUL HOME.
NOW, let us follow Hatty as she ran gayly up the narrow lane toward her
humble home. The brook, she loved so well, tumbled on over the stones
and pebbles at her side, dancing and sparkling in the sunlight, as happy
as she.
"Oh, how pretty these everlastings are!" she said to herself, stopping
to take a nearer view of the late fall flowers; and there's dear Esther
sitting at her sewing.
"Am I late?" she asked, running into their one room, which served for
parlor, sitting-room and kitchen.
"Oh, no, dear!"
There was an affectionate kiss between the two sisters, and then Hatty,
after hanging up her school hat and sack, laid some fresh sticks into
the stove, filled the tea-kettle, and put some potatoes already washed
into the oven to bake. Then she proceeded to lay on a cloth very coarse,
but white as snow; and to set out the common plates they used, her
tongue running merrily all the while.
"Oh, Esther! I wish you could see Montworth Falls. The water foams, and
dashes, and sparkles so beautifully, I stood a moment to look at it; and
then I had to run to catch the girls."
Esther smiled; a patient, calm face hers was, almost always lighted
with that trusting, placid smile.
"I can see it," she answered, "almost as well as if I were there. You
are my eyes, you know."
"Oh, sister!" Hatty went on, after bringing from the cellar a dish of
cold meat and a plate of large cucumber pickles, "the girls are going
nutting. Do you suppose I could go? Ethel Frost says chestnuts and
shagbarks are ever so thick. There's one reason, specially, why I want
to go to-day."
Esther quite laughed this time.
"You know I tell you everything," Hatty went on, her face growing a
little anxious. "Sallie Munson is in trouble. I want to make her feel
better; and I guess I can."
"Well, my dear peace-maker, you can go as well as not. You know uncle
Oliver likes nuts in winter. They remind him of old times. You'd better
carry them up stairs and dry them, and then give him a pleasant
surprise."
"So I will!"
Hatty peeped into the oven to see how the potatoes were coming on,
singing a line of her favorite hymn:--
"Oh how happy are they
Who their Saviour obey,
And have laid up their treasure above,
No tongue can express,
The sweet comfort and peace,
Of a soul in its earliest love."
Just as the tea was drawn (uncle Oliver was as set in his way as an old
smoker, and declared that he couldn't live without tea with every meal),
the old man made his appearance. He was bent a good deal with
rheumatism; his face was wrinkled, and his hair grew low down on his
forehead. His shaggy eyebrows nearly met over his nose, and his deep
grey eyes looked cold to a stranger, but, notwithstanding all this, his
nieces loved him. Years ago when his only sister, who was their mother,
died, he promised her, that as well as he knew how, he would be a father
to her daughters; and faithfully had he kept his word.
He had only a little money; but that little was freely given for their
necessities. When they first came to live with him, people called him
hard and crusty, an odd stick; but Esther and Hatty had crept into his
heart and made it soft and tender.
For their mother's sake he had allowed Hatty to attend church and
Sabbath school; and in this way a blessing had come home to all of them.
Hatty was not only eyes to her deformed sister, and described to her the
beauties of nature which she seldom saw herself, but she was ears to
both of them. Every word she could remember of the Sunday teachings was
stored to be repeated at home; and thus both the old man and his
deformed niece had learned to love the sacred truths of the Bible.
Indeed a blessed peace had settled on the whole household, a peace and
contentment at which many of their neighbors wondered.
When Hatty heard her uncle's step, she ran to the door to welcome him.
If he had been the handsomest man in America, she couldn't have looked
more lovingly in his face. She playfully took off his hat, hung it on
its hook, and then seated him at the table.
"Come, Esther," she exclaimed, "dinner's ready; and here's your chair."
It was no wonder uncle Oliver smiled as he watched her flitting about,
first to lay Esther's work on a small table away from harm, then to push
up her chair before her plate, snatching a kiss for her pains, and last
seating herself demurely while the old man said grace. It was no wonder
at all that he asked God to bless every one of them, and continue life
and health to the child who was the joy of their hearts as well as the
delight of their eyes.
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