My Master. 75
that I achieved the grand independence of a room
to myself. I had long wished for a room in which
I could study as I pleased, undisturbed ; but I never
saw my way to it, until one day, as I was in the loft
above Monna’s stall pitching down a bundle of hay
for her, it struck me how stupid I was never to have
thought of this room before. It only wanted glass
in the window, and a little patching to the roof, to
make it snug and weathertight. The floor, to be
sure, was rather uneven, but it would hold a bed-
stead and chair without their coming through ; and,
as Nance never would climb the short ladder that
formed its only approach, I should be safe enough
from interruption; in short, it was delightful. I
was so anxious for it that, instead of running open-
mouthed to my father about it, I was scized with a
fit of prudence, and waited, watching for a good
opportunity. It soon came. The weather was
warm, and my father complained of the heat and
closeness of our house at night.

“You would do better, father, if you were to get
rid of me,” I said.

“Ay, no doubt,” returned my father, with a
queer half-smile ; “but how is that to be done 2”

“Why, the hayloft would do to sleep in very
well, this weather. I should not mind it, if there
was a bit of glass in the window.”