treet back of Westminster; it went
by the name of Adam Street. It was very long and rambling, with broken
pavements, uneven roadways, and very tall, narrow, and dirty houses.

In a certain room on the fourth floor of one of the poorest of these
houses lay a boy of between ten and eleven years of age. He was quite
alone in the room, but that fact did not at all insure his being quiet.
All kinds of sounds came to him--sounds from the street, sounds from
below stairs, sounds from overhead. There were shrieking voices and ugly
laughter, and now and then there were shrill screams. The child was
accustomed to these things, however, and it is doubtful whether he heard
them.

He was a sad-looking little fellow, with that deadly white complexion
which children who never go into the fresh air possess. His face,
however, was neither discontented nor unhappy. He lay very still, with
patient eyes, quite touching in their absolute submission. Had any one
looked hard at little Giles they would have noticed something else on
his face--it was a listening look. The sounds all around did not
discompose him, for his eyes showed that he was waiting for something.
It came. Over and above the discord a Voice filled the air. Nine times
it repeated itself, slowly, solemnly, with deep vibrations. It was "Big
Ben" proclaiming the hour. The boy had heard the chimes which preceded
the hour; they were beautiful, of course, but it was the voice of Big
Ben himself that fascinated him.

"Ain't he a real beauty to-night?" thought the child. "How I wishes as
Sue 'ud hear him talk like that! Sometimes he's more weakly in his
throat, poor fellow! but to-night he's in grand voice."

The discord, which for one brief moment was interrupted for the child by
the beautiful, harmonious notes, continued in more deafening fashion
than ever. Children cried; women scolded; men cursed and swore. In the
midst of the din the room door was opened and a girl entered.

"Sue!" cried Giles.

"Yes," answered Sue, putting down her basket as she spoke. "I'm a bit
late; there wor a crowd in the street, and I went to hear him. He wor
grand."

"Oh, worn't he?" said Giles. "I never did know him to be in such
beautiful voice."

Sue came up and stared at the small boy. Her good-natured but somewhat
common type of face was a great contrast to his.

"Whatever are you talking about?" she said. "You didn't hear him; you
can't move, poor Giles!"

"But I did hear him," replied