Harper's New Monthly Magazine, No. XXIII.—April, 1852.—Vol. IV.

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Harper's New Monthly Magazine, No. XXIII.—April, 1852.—Vol. IV. None

RODOLPHUS. – A FRANCONIA STORY

BY JACOB ABBOTT

CHAPTER II

I.В THE SNOW-SHOES

As soon as Martha had gone, Ellen began to make such preparations as she thought necessary for the night. She placed the furniture of the room in order. She brought in some wood from the back room and laid it down very gently by the side of the fire, so as to have a sufficient supply of fuel at hand. She also brought the water pail and put it under the seat of the settle, in order that the water might not freeze, and by means of a long-handled tin dipper she filled the tea kettle full, in order that there might be an ample supply of hot water, should any occasion occur requiring any. She then brought a small blanket and held it to the fire, and when it was very thoroughly warm, she put it very gently under the counterpane, around her aunt's feet, fearing that her feet might be cold. In fact they were very cold. Ellen extinguished the lamp, too, and put it away upon her table near the window, lest the light of it should shine upon her aunt's eyes and disturb her sleep. The light of the fire was sufficient to illuminate the room. The light of the fire, too, seemed more cheerful to Ellen than that of the lamp. It flashed brightly upon the walls and ceiling, and diffused a broad and genial glow all over the floor.

Ellen made all these arrangements in the most quiet and noiseless manner possible. During all the time her aunt lay silent and motionless, as if in a profound slumber.

After Ellen had extinguished the lamp, she paused a moment, looking around the room to see if there was any thing which she had forgotten. She could not think of any thing else to do, and so she concluded to sit down and watch by her aunt until Martha should return.

She took a cushion from a great rocking chair which stood in a corner of the room, and put it down upon the bear skin rug. She then sat down upon the cushion and laid her head upon the pillow by the side of her aunt. She then gently took her aunt's hand and laid it upon her cheek, in the position in which her aunt herself had placed it, when Ellen had laid her head down there before. She looked timidly into her aunt's face as she did this, to see whether any signs that she was awake could be observed. The eyes of the patient opened a very little, and a faint smile lighted up her pale features for a moment, and Ellen thought that she could perceive a gentle pressure upon her cheek from her aunt's hand. In a moment, however, both the hand and the face returned to their state of repose, as before.

Ellen remained quiet in this position a few minutes, looking into the fire, and wondering when Martha would come back, when she felt something gently touching her upon the shoulder. She looked round and found that it was Lutie climbing up upon her. Lutie had jumped up from the floor to the couch, and had crept along to where Ellen was lying, and was now cautiously stepping over upon her.

"Ah, Lutie," said she. "Is it you? It is time for you to go to bed."

Lutie's bed was out in the back room. There was no door leading from the room where Ellen was, directly into the back room. It was necessary to go into a sort of entry first, and from this entry into the back room by a separate door. All this may be clearly understood by referring to the plan.

It happened, however, that there was an old window in the partition between the great room and the back room. The reason why this window was in the partition was this. The house was first built without any back room, and then the window on that side looked out upon the yard. When at last the back room was built, the window was rendered useless, but it was not closed up. There was a curtain over it, and this curtain was always left drawn. The back room was used for storage of various things, and for rough and heavy work on extraordinary occasions.

Lutie's bed was in a box in a corner of this room. The place is