s, when despair haunted him like a shadow from
which there seemed no means of escape. His sole earnings had been the
pence flung to him from the windows as he stood singing in the
snow-covered streets, either alone or in the company of other youths
as destitute as himself. But now spring had come; the glorious sun had
chased away the snow and the biting frost, and the poor chorister felt
its genial rays quickening the life-blood in his veins, and awakening
his cramped muscles to action. It is only the pinched and starved
human beings of this great Northern Hemisphere who really know what a
beneficent food-giver is the sun.

One morning, as Haydn stood idly wondering what he should do next, a
procession of men and women, headed by several priests, passed by,
bound for the shrine of the Virgin at Mariazell. Struck with an idea,
Haydn joined the cavalcade, and on reaching the church in which the
pilgrims were to assemble, he sought out the choirmaster, and, telling
him how and where he had been trained, begged for employment. With a
contemptuous glance at the ex-chorister's ragged clothing, however,
the master bade him begone, saying 'that he had had enough of lazy
rascals such as he coming from Vienna to seek for work.' The tears
started to the lad's eyes as he turned away. Would nobody hold out a
helping hand? He had been speculating upon this opportunity as he
trudged along the road until it seemed almost a certainty; and must
this cup, too, be dashed from his lips?

A few minutes later he perceived the choristers entering the church by
a side-door, and, emboldened by hunger, he slipped in amongst them,
donned a surplice, and took his place in the stalls. Finding himself
next to the principal soloist, he requested that he might be allowed
to share the latter's copy. The request was indignantly refused, but
Haydn, who knew the service almost by heart, resolved to await his
opportunity. When the moment arrived for the singing of the solo, he
snatched the copy from the chorister's hands, and, lifting up his
voice, sang the part with such exquisite finish and beauty of
expression as to electrify the rest of the choir and excite the
admiration of the master.

At the conclusion of the service Haydn was sent for by the
choirmaster, who, after expressing his regret for his former
abruptness, asked him to stay with them until the following day. Poor
starving Haydn was only too glad to accept the invitation, and when
the morr