ery
heavy for him, and he had to stop every now and then to rest for a
minute. At length he reached a nice-looking house, standing in a very
pretty garden. The flower-beds in front of the house were filled with
the early spring flowers; snowdrops, crocuses, violets, and hepaticas
were in full bloom.

Before this house Christie began to play. He could hardly have told you
why he chose it; perhaps he had no reason for doing so, except that it
had such a pretty garden in front, and Christie always loved flowers.
His mother had once bought him a penny bunch of spring flowers, which,
after living for many days in a broken bottle, Christie had pressed in
an old spelling-book, and through all his troubles he had never parted
with them.

And thus, before the house with the pretty garden, Christie began to
play. He had not turned the handle of the organ three times, before two
merry little faces appeared at a window at the top of the house, and
watched him with lively interest. They put their heads out of the window
as far as the protecting bars would allow them, and Christie could hear
all they said.

"Look at him," said a little girl, who seemed to be about five years
old; "doesn't he turn it nicely, Charlie?"

"Yes, he does," said Charlie, "and what a pretty tune he's playing!"

"Yes," said the little girl, "it's so cheerful. Isn't it, nurse?" she
added, turning round to the girl who was holding her by the waist, to
prevent her falling out of the window. Mabel had heard her papa make a
similar remark to her mamma the night before, when she had been playing
a piece of music to him for the first time, and she therefore thought it
was the correct way to express her admiration of Christie's tune.

But the tune happened to be "Poor Mary Ann," the words of which the
nurse knows very well indeed. And as Mary Ann was nurse's own name, she
had grown quite sentimental whilst Christie was playing it, and had been
wondering whether John Brown, the grocer's young man, who had promised
to be faithful to her for ever and ever more, would ever behave to her
as poor Mary Ann's lover did, and leave her to die forlorn. Thus she
could not quite agree with Miss Mabel's remark, that "Poor Mary Ann" was
so cheerful, and she seemed rather relieved when the tune changed to
"Rule Britannia." But when "Rule Britannia" was finished, and the organ
began "Home, sweet Home," the children fairly screamed with delight; for
their mother had often sung