The Manitowoc tribune. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1866-1878, 1869-08-19
THE TRIBUNE.
The Little Favor

side of his sick mother. There was M
Dread IN the closet, and for the whole day
he had not tasted food. Yet be sat hum
ming to keep up his spirits. Still at time:
he thought OF his loneliness and hungre.
aud he could scarcely keep the tears froul
h. eyes, for he knew nothing would be SC
grateful to his poor invalid mother as a
good sweet orange, and yet he had not a
penny In the world.
The little song he was singing was his
own-oDe he composed with air and
words-for the child was genius, and a
tervent worshiper 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 moth
er see, but rising, hurried to the window,
and there watched man putting up a
great bill with yellow letters announcing
that Madame Nj, then fayorite
cantatrice, would sing that night at the
Temple.
''Oh, if [ could go thought the little
Pierre and then, pausing moment, he
clasped his hands, his eyes lighted with
unwonted fire. and running to the little
stand, he smoothed down his yellow curs.
and taking from little box some old
stained papers, gave one eager glance at
his mother, who slept, and ran speedily
from the house.
''Who did you say is waiting for me p
said Madame Nj, TO her servant.
l am already worn out wit company.
1t is only very pretty little boy with
yellow curls, who says if he can only see
You he is sure you will not be sorry, and
he won't keep you a moment.
ooh, we'll, let him come said the
beautiful SINCE smileing, L can never
refuse children.
Little Pierre came in, his hat under his
arm, and in his hand little roll of paper
With manliness unusual to a child, he
walked straight to Madame Nj,
and bowling said. 81 came to see you be-
cause my mother is very sick, and we are
too poor to get food and medicine. L
thought that perhaps, if you would only
sing my little song at some 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
seat-very tall and stately she was; she
took the roll from his hand, and lightly
hummed the air.
did you compose it?" she asked j;
you, a child? Wonderful genius.
Would you like to come to my concert?
she asked, after few moments Of
thought.
ooh, yes,'' and the boys blue eyes
grew liquid with hap, iness-'but [
couldn leave my mother.
81 will send somebody to take care of
your mother for the evening, and here Is
crown with which do you go and get
food aud medicine. Here Is also one of
my tickets. Come to-nig ht-that will
admit you to a seat near me my good
little fellow, your mother has treasure
In you"
Almost beside himself with joy. 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 Pierre been in
such grand place. The music clashing
and rolling, the myriad lights. the beauty,
the flashing of diamonds and rushing of
silks, bewildered his eyes and brain. At
last she came-and the child sat with his
Could he believe that the grand lady,
all blazing with jewels, and whom every
body seemed to worship, would really
oli8 Ills IItlC SUE III SttIiiCSS ilG W dib-
ed the band, the whole band, struck up
a little plaintive melody: be knew it,
and clapped his hands for joy And oh,
how she sung it. 1t was so simple, so
mournful, so soul subduing-many a
bright eye dimmed with tears. and
naught could but the touching words of
that little song-oh 50 touching
Pierre walked home as if he were moy-
ing on air. What cared he for money
now? The greatest prima donna in all
Europe had sung his little song. and
thousands had wept at his grief.
The next day he was frightened at a
visit from Madame Nj. She laid
her hand on his yellow curls, and turning
to the sick woman said. ~ our little
boy, madame, has brought you a for
tune. | was Offer ed this morning, by the
best publisher ia London, three hundred
pounds for his. little song aud after he
has realized cetain amount from the
sale, little Pierre here Is to share the
profits. Madame, thank God that your
son has gift from Heaven.
The noble hearted singer and the poor
woman wept together. As to Pierre, al
ways mindful of Him who watches over
the tired and tempted, he knelt down by
his mother bedside, and uttered q sim
pie prayer. asking God Blessing on that
kind lady who dad deigncd tonotice then
afflic;ion.
And the memory of that prayer made
the singer even more tender heart ed, and
she who was the idol of England nobility,
like the worlds great aster, went about
doug good And in her early, happy
death, when the grave-damps gathered
over her brow, aud her eyes grew dim
he who stood by her bed, his bright face
clothed in the mourning Of signs and
tears, and smoothed her pillow, and ligh
tened her last moments by his undyIng
affection, was the little Pierre of former
days-now rich and accomplished, ans
the most talented composer of the day