en 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."

"Father," said Nettie. She had come close up to him, but she trembled.
What possible chance could she have?

"Hollo!" said Mr. Mathieson, turning suddenly. "Nettie!--what's to pay,
girl?"

He spoke roughly, and Nettie saw that his face was red. She trembled all
over, but she spoke as bravely as she could.

"Father, I am come to invite you home to supper to-night. Mother and I
have a particular reason to want to see you. Will you come?"

"Come where?" said Mr. Mathieson, but half understanding her.

"Come home to tea, father. I came to ask you. Mother has made something
you like."

"I'm busy, child. Go home. I'm going to supper at Jackson's. Go home."
He turned to his hammering again. But Nettie stood still in the snow
and waited.

"Father--" she said, after a minute, coming yet closer and speaking more
low.

"What? Aint you gone?" exclaimed Mr. Mathieson.

"Father," said Nettie, softly, "mother has made waffles for you,--and
you used to like them so much, she says; and th