THE WAFFLES.
The early part of the day had been brilliant and beautiful; then, March-like, it had changed about, gathered up a whole sky-full of clouds, and turned at last to snowing. The large feathery flakes were falling now, fast; melting as fast as they fell; making everything wet and chill, in the air and under the foot. Nettie had no overshoes; she was accustomed to get her feet wet very often, so that was nothing new. She hugged herself in her brown cloak, on which the beautiful snowflakes rested white a moment and then melted away, gradually wetting the covering of her arms and shoulders in a way that would reach through by and by. Nettie thought little of it. What was she thinking of? She was comforting herself with the thought of that strong and blessed Friend who has promised to be always with his servants; and remembering his promise—"they shall not be ashamed that wait for me." What did the snow and the wet matter to Nettie? Yet she looked too much like a snow-flake herself when she reached Mr. Jackson's store and went in. The white frosting had lodged all round her old black silk hood and even edged the shoulders of her brown cloak; and the white little face within looked just as pure.
Mr. Jackson looked at her with more than usual attention; and when Nettie asked him if he would let her have a shilling's worth of fine white sugar and cinnamon, and trust her till the next week for the money, he made not the slightest difficulty; but measured or weighed it out for her directly, and even said he would trust her for more than that. So Nettie thanked him, and went on to the less easy part of her errand. Her heart began to beat a little bit now.
The feathery snowflakes fell thicker and made everything wetter than ever; it was very raw and chill, and few people were abroad. Nettie went on, past the little bakewoman's house, and past all the thickly built part of the village. Then came houses more scattered; large handsome houses with beautiful gardens and grounds and handsome garden palings along the roadside. Past one or two of these, and then there was a space of wild ground; and here Mr. Jackson was putting up a new house for himself, and meant to have a fine place. The wild bushes grew in a thick hedge along by the fence, but over the tops of them Nettie could see the new timbers of the frame that the carpenters had been raising that day. She went on till she came to an opening in the hedge and fence as well, and then the new building was close before her. The men were at work yet, finishing their day's business; the sound of hammering rung sharp on all sides of the frame; some were up on ladders, some were below. Nettie walked slowly up and then round the place, searching for her father. At last she found him. He and Barry, who was learning his father's trade, were on the ground at one side of the frame, busy as bees. Talking was going on roundly too, as well as hammering, and Nettie drew near and stood a few minutes without any one noticing her. She was not in a hurry to interrupt the work nor to tell her errand; she waited.
Barry saw her first, but ungraciously would not speak to her nor for her. If she was there for anything, he said to himself, it was for some spoil-sport; and one pail of water a day was enough for him. Mr. Mathieson was looking the other way.
"I say, Mathieson," called one of the men from the inside of the frame, "I s'pose 'taint worth carrying any of this stuff—Jackson'll have enough without it?" The words were explained to Nettie's horror by a jug in the man's hands, which he lifted to his lips.
"Jackson will do something handsome in that way to-night," said Nettie's father; "or he'll not do as he's done by, such a confounded wet evening. But I've stood to my word, and I expect he'll stand to his'n."
"He gave his word there was to be oysters, warn't it?" called another man from the top of the ladder.
"Punch and oysters," said Mathieson, hammering away, "or I've raised the last frame I ever will raise, for him. I expect he'll stand it."
"Oysters aint much count," said another speaker. "I'd rather have a slice of good sweet pork any day."