down on either side the fire and began to
talk,--of politics, and of their work on which they were then engaged,
with their employers and their fellow-workmen; of the state of business
in the village, and profits and losses, and the success of particular
men in making money. They talked loudly and eagerly; and Nettie had to
go round and round them, to get to the fire for hot water and back to
the table to wash up the cups and plates. Her mother was helping at the
table, but to get round Mr. Lumber to the pot of hot water on the fire
every now and then, fell to Nettie's share. It was not a very nice
ending of her sweet Sabbath day, she thought. The dishes were done and
put away, and still the talk went on as hard as ever. It was sometimes
a pleasure to Nettie's father to hear her sing hymns of a Sunday
evening. Nettie watched for a chance, and the first time there was a
lull of the voices of the two men, she asked, softly, "Shall I sing,
father?" Mr. Mathieson hesitated, and then answered, "No, better not,
Nettie; Mr. Lumber might not find it amusing;" and the talk began again.
Nettie waited a little longer, feeling exceedingly tired; then she rose
and lit a candle.

"What are you doing, Nettie?" her mother said.

"I am going to bed, mother."

"You can't take a candle up there, child! the attic's all full of
things, and you'd certainly set us on fire."

"I'll take great care, mother."

"But you can't, child! The wind might blow the snuff of your candle
right into something that would be all a flame by the time you're
asleep. You must manage without a light somehow."

"But I can't see to find my way," said Nettie, who was secretly
trembling with fear.

"I'll light you then, for once, and you'll soon learn the way. Give me
the candle."

Nettie hushed the words that came crowding into her mouth, and clambered
up the steep stairs to the attic. Mrs. Mathieson followed her with the
candle till she got to the top, and there she held it till Nettie had
found her way to the other end where her bed was. Then she said
good-night and went down.

The little square shutter of the window was open, and a ray of moonlight
streamed in upon the bed. It was nicely made up; Nettie saw that her
mother had been there and had done that for her and wrought a little
more space and order among the things around the bed. But the moonlight
did not get in far enough to show much more. Just a little of this thing
and of that could be seen;