The Hillsdale standard. [volume] (Hillsdale, Mich.) 1851-1909, 1861-01-29
NO. "a.
The Young Musician and hi, Sick Mother.

The Young Musician and his Sick Mother.
The following passage in the life of an Eng.
lish composer, copied from tho Olive Banch,
will thrill the heart Of many n other who
will read it here no doubt for the first time.
Little Pierre sat humming by the bed side
IF his sick mother. There was no bread in
tie closet, and for the whole day he had not
tasted food. Yet lie sat bummiDg to keep up
his spirits. Still ut timos he thought Of bis
loneliness and hunger, and he could scarcely
keep the tears from his eyes, for he knew no.
thing would be so grateful to his poor invalid
mothor as good sweet orange, and yet he
had not penny in the world. The little
song he was singing was his own-one he
composed with air and words; for tho child
wac a genius, and fervcnt worshipper at the
shrine Of music. AS the tears would roll
down his cheeks, and his voice would falter at
the sad, sad thoughts he did not dare to let,
his sick mother see. but hastily raising he hur-
ricd to the window, aud there watched man
putting up great bill with yellow letters,
announcing that Madame NJ, then a
favorito cantatricc, would sing that night at
tho Temple "Oh, if could go!' thought
little Pierre; and then pausng a moment, he
clasped his hands; his eyes lighted with un-
wonted fro, and running to the little stand
he smoothed down his yellow curls, and tax.
ing from little box some old stained paper,
gave ono eager look at his mother who sept.
and rsn speedily from the house. Who did
you say was waiting for m,f' said Madame
M-to her servant, am already worn
out with yellow curls, who says if he can only
see YOU, he is sure you will not be- sorry, AMI
he wont keep ycu II moment" "Oh, well.
let him come" said the beautiful singer with
a smile, 81 can never refuse children :" Little
Pierre came in, his hat in ono hand. and in
his other hand little roll Of paper. With
manliness unusual for a child he walked
straight to Madame M--,and bowinc
said, 81 came to sec you because my mother
is yery sick, and VIC are too poor 10 get food
and medicine. | thought that perhaps il
you would only sing my little song at somc
OF your grand concerts, may be some publisher
would buy it for small sum, and so | could
get food and medicine for my mother" The
beautiful woman rose from her scat-very tall
and stately she was sho took the little roll
from his hand and lightly hummcd the air.
"Did you compose it" she asked, "you, n
child| And the worls--wonderful little gen
ius Would You like 10 come to my concorti
she asked, otter few moment houglt.--
"Oh, yes and the boys blue eyes grew IL
quid with happiness, ''but couldn't leave
my mother" IL will send somebody to take
care of your mother for the evening, and hero
is crown with which DO you 90 and get food
aud medicine. Here is also one Of my tickets
como tonight, that will admit you to scat
near me; my good little fellow. Your mother
has a treasure in you Almost beside him.
self with You Pierre bought some oranges, and
many little luxury besides, and carried
them home to the poor invalid, telling her,
not without tears, of his good fortune.
~
Never in his life had Pienc been in sucl,
a grand place. The music, clashing and roll
ing the mayria1 lights, the beauty, the fash.
ing dI.monds and rustling Of silks, bowildcr.
ed his eyes and brain. At last she came and
the child sat with bis glance rivitcd upon her
glorious face. Could he believe that grand
lady, all blazing with jewels, and who every
body seemed to worship, would really sing
his little songG Brcathless he waited the
band, the whole band stuck up little plain
tive melody; be knew it, and clapped his
hands for JOY. Aud oh, how she sung it! 1t
was SO simple, so mouinful, so soul subduinc
nough could be heard but the touching
words Of that little song--ob, how touching.
Pierre walked home as if he were moving on
the air What cared he for money now p
Tho greatest prima donna in al Europe has
sung his little song, and thousands had wept
at his Gri {. The next day he was frightened
at visit from Madame NJ -. Sic laii
her har ds on his yellow curls, and turning to
tho sick woman said: "Iom little boy,
madame, has brought you fortune. l was
offered this morning, by the best publishers
in London, three hundred pounds for his lit.
tie song; and after ho has realized certain
amount for the sale, little Pierre, here, is to
share the profits. Madame thank God that
your son as a gift from heaven" The noble
hearted singer a1d the poor woman wcpt TO.
gether. As to Pierre, always mindful Of
Him who watches ever the tired and tempted,
be knelt down by his mothers bedside, and
uttered simple but eloquent prayer, asking
Gods blessing on the kind lady who had
dcigncl 10 notice their affection. And the
memory of that prayer made the singer even
moro tender hearted; and she who was tho
idol of Eugland's nobility, like the worlds
great Master, ent about doing good. And
in h.r early happy death, when the graro
dalnps gathered over her brow, and her eyes
grew dim, he who stood by her bed bis bright
face clothed in mourning of sighs and tears
aud smoothcd her pillow, and lighted her last
10y his undyug af ction, WAS the
little Pierre of former days-now rich, &C.
co plshej, aud tho most talented composer
Of the day. All honor to those great hearts,
who, from their high stations, send down
u 4 i
AS Quo NRcuy.- The State Of SoIll Car.
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