or of the nineteenth century.

HOW GOOD FORTUNE CAME TO PIERRE

Many years ago, in a shabby room in one of the poorest streets of
London, a little golden-haired boy sat singing, in his sweet, childish
voice, by the bedside of his sick mother. Though faint from hunger and
oppressed with loneliness, he manfully forced back the tears that kept
welling up into his blue eyes, and, for his mother's sake, tried to
look bright and cheerful. But it was hard to be brave and strong while
his dear mother was suffering for lack of the delicacies which he
longed to provide for her, but could not. He had not tasted food all
day himself. How he could drive away the gaunt, hungry wolf, Famine,
that had come to take up its abode with them, was the thought that
haunted him as he tried to sing a little song he himself had composed.
He left his place by the invalid, who, lulled by his singing, had
fallen into a light sleep. As he looked listlessly out of the window,
he noticed a man putting up a large poster, which bore, in staring
yellow letters, the announcement that Madame M----, one of the greatest
singers that ever lived, was to sing in public that night.

"Oh, if I could only go!" thought little Pierre, his love of music for
the moment making him forgetful of aught else. Suddenly his face
brightened, and the light of a great resolve shone in his eyes. "I will
try it," he said to himself; and, running lightly to a little stand
that stood at the opposite end of the room, with trembling hands he
took from a tiny box a roll of paper. With a wistful, loving glance at
the sleeper, he stole from the room and hurried out into the street.

"Who did you say is waiting for me?" asked Madame M---- of her servant;
"I am already worn out with company."

"It is only a very pretty little boy with yellow curls, who said that
if he can just see you, he is sure you will not be sorry, and he will
not keep you a moment."

"Oh, well, let him come," said the great singer, with a kindly smile,
"I can never refuse children."

Timidly the child entered the luxurious apartment, and, bowing before
the beautiful, stately woman, he began rapidly, lest his courage should
fail him: "I came to see you because my mother is very sick, and we are
too poor to get food and medicine. I thought, perhaps, that if you
would sing my little song at some of your grand concerts, maybe some
publisher would buy it for a small sum, and so I could get food and
medicin