Nannie turned to the 14th chapter of John, which she knew grannie loved to hear, and commenced reading.
While she is reading, let us go down the street to the lane—bordered with trees—walk up the narrow footpath, and over the stile just by the blackberry-bushes, across the field to the little marigolds, to the white cottage where Nannie lives. You can come to it by the street, if you choose, and you may come in under the great elm-tree, by the gate; but then the street is so dusty, and you miss seeing the little garden with its bright flowers; and the blossoms in the lane smell so sweetly, that it is quite worth while going that way. But here we are, before the door, on which we read, in bright letters, "Dr. Merry;" for Nannie's name is Nannie Merry, and Nannie's father is a doctor. He is doctor in a pleasant little town that is situated on the banks of a narrow river. I don't think you could find either the town or the river on your maps, if you should try; so there would be no use in telling you their names. It was a pleasant town, however, with its large elm-trees, and pretty white cottages, with here and there a large house, where the grandest people lived.
But Nannie's father was only a country doctor, and didn't live in a very large house. You can see for yourself that it is only a white cottage, with green blinds, and a long porch in front, covered with sweetbriar and honeysuckle. But the people that live in the house are quite as pleasant as the house itself, or even as the people that live in the large brick house. After Dr. Merry comes Mrs. Merry, or Nannie's mother, who is, like most mothers, very kind and good; then sister Mary, who is grown up, and Nannie thinks the best sister ever was; then Belle, who is very pretty, and about twelve years old; John and Charlie, who are, like most boys, great teasers, and Nannie sometimes thinks a good deal worse than most boys—but then, Charlie is only four years old, so there is some excuse for him. Lastly, we have Nannie herself, who is—well, we shall find out what she is before our story is finished. She is nine years old, "nearly ten," and would feel offended if we left that out. But here she comes from Grannie Burt's, so we must stop talking about her. She is coming by the lane just as we did, running at first, then a little slower, till at last she stops, for her sister Mary is weeding one of the pretty borders in the little garden.
"O Mary! grannie thinks just as you do about heaven; I don't think Mr. Brown knows so much about it as she does."
"Why not, Nannie?"
"Oh, because grannie is almost there, Mary,—she ought to know!"
"What makes you think grannie is almost there?"
"Why, she said so; and then she loves to hear about heaven, just as I did about home when I was at Aunt Sarah's."
"Do you like to hear about heaven, Nannie?"
"Sometimes," she answered, while with her little shoe she played with the pebbles.