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.
