o sweep the shop. It is true it is rather stale, but we can
soon soften it in our coffee--and I have milk too, we want nothing but
sugar."

She drew the table close to her mother's bedside, and the little family
ate their poor breakfast with pleasure.

Take example from them ye rich ones of this world, who when you have
every luxury spread before you, are nevertheless often dissatisfied.

Madelaine, joyous from the consciousness of having done her duty, amused
even her suffering mother by her prattle. Thus the time passed quickly
by, when suddenly a beautiful canary, yellow as gold, roused himself in
his narrow cage and sent forth a loud and melodious song.

"Jacot, my Jacot!" cried Raphael, delighted.

His mother said, "The bird recalls us to our duty,--_he_ praises
his Creator before he breakfasts"--and with a weak and trembling voice
she began, "May my first thoughts on this day be of praise to thee, O
Lord!" Kneeling down, the two children joined her as she repeated her
morning prayer, with deep devotion.

At last it grew light in the little room. Madelaine took a needle and
thread and began to mend her frock. Raphael felt about for a heap of
little pieces of silk, which he began to unravel. Both children were
silent, for their mother had taken up a book. After about an hour thus
spent, a loud knocking was heard at the door, and almost before
Madelaine could say "Come in," the door opened and a man entered, who
was so much surprised at the darkness of the room, that at first he
could see nothing. Looking quite embarrassed, he asked, "Is it here that
Madame Tube lives?"

"Ah, it is good Mr. Teuzer, mother, who has come to see us," said
Madelaine, joyously.

Madame Tube tried, but in vain, to rise to salute him. As for Raphael,
he ran to hide behind the stove.

"Well," said Master Teuzer to Madelaine, "I thought you were very ill,
for I have not seen you these four days. Where have you been?"

Madelaine looked quite astonished, and said, "I have been at your house,
sir, and told your apprentice to excuse me to you, because my mother had
a fresh attack of rheumatism, and could not spare me."

"What a naughty boy, he has never told me one word of it. When I go home
I will punish him severely. This then is your mother? She suffers from
rheumatism, you say? Sad malady! but this room is a perfect dungeon,
enough to kill a strong man. Poor people! The stove smokes,
too--wretched stove that it is, made before th