“Susan had made a light blaze, and then she and the cobbler admired and turned and almost smelt of the fish, for joy.
“‘And shall we have one for supper, father?’
“‘Yes dear—You have some coals and I’ll get the fish ready right off. Has mother had all she wanted to-day?’
“‘Yes, father—Mrs. Lucy sent her some soup, and she had plenty. And I saved the bread from dinner, father, isn’t it good; and there’s more porridge too.’
“What a bed of coals Sue had made, by the time her father came back with the fish, nicely cleaned and washed. She put it down, and then the two sat over it in the firelight and watched it broil. It was done as nicely as a fish could be done; and Susan fetched the plates, and the salt, and the bread; and then the cobbler gave thanks to God for their supper. And then the two made such a meal! there wasn’t a bone of that fish but was clean picked, nor a grain of salt but what did duty on a sweet morsel. There was not a scrap of bread left from that supper; and I was as glad as anything of my tough nature can be, to know that there were several more fish beside the one eaten. Sue cleared away the things when they had done, ran up to see if her mother was comfortable, and soon ran down again. Her step had changed too.
“‘Now darling,’ said her father, ‘come and let us have our talk by this good firelight.’
“She came to his arms and kissed him; and his arms were wrapped round her, and she sat on his knee.
“‘It’s one good thing, you haven’t lights to work, so we can talk,’ said Sue, stroking his face. ‘If you had, we couldn’t.’
“‘Maybe we would,’ said the cobbler. ‘Let us talk to-night of the things we have to be thankful for.’
“‘There’s a great many of them, father,’ said Sue, with her twilight voice.
“‘The first thing is, that we know we have a Friend in heaven; and that we do love and trust him.’
“‘O father!’ said Sue,—‘if you begin with that, all the other things will not seem anything at all.’
“‘That’s true,’ said Mr. Peg. ‘Well, Sue, let’s have ’em all. You begin.’
“‘I don’t know what to begin with,’ said Sue, looking into the fire.
“‘I have you,’ said her father, softly kissing her.
“‘O father!—and I have you;—but now you are taking the next best things.’
“‘I shouldn’t care for all the rest without this one,’ said the cobbler;—‘nor I shouldn’t mind anything but for this,’ he added, in a somewhat changed tone.