Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1883-01-18
Little Pierre.

est streets of London, Pierre, n father
less French boy, sat humming by the
bedside of his sick mother. There was
no bread in the closet, and for a whole
day he had not tasted food. Yet he sat
humming to keep up his spirits. Still.
at times, he thought OF his loneliness
and hunger, and he could scarcely keep
the tears from his eyes; for he knew
nothing would be SO 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-one he had composed with
air and words; for the child was a
genius.
He went to the window, and looking
out saw a man putting up a great bill
with yellow letters, announcing that
Madame Malibran would sing that night
in public.
"Oh, if l could only go,'' thought lit
tie Pierre; and then pausing q moment
he clasped his hands; his eyes lighted
with q new hope. Running tothe little
stand he smoothed down his yellow
curls, and, taking from a little box
some old stained paper, gave n eager
glance at his mother, who slept, and
al speedy from the house.
"Who did you say was waiting for
me?' said the lady to her servant. I'm
already worn out with company
cit is only a very pretty little boy,
with yellow curls, who says il he can
only see You he is sure You will not be
sorry, and he will not keep you a
moment
''Oh! well, let him come,'' said the
beautiful singer, with n smile; Il can
never refuse children"
Little Pierre came in, his hat under
his arm, and in his hand a little roll of
paper. With manliness unusual for a
child, he walked straight to the lady,
and bowling said, 81 came to see YOU
because my mother is sick, and we are
too poor to get food or medicine. |
thought that prehaps, if you would only
sing my little song 1t some of your
grand concerts, may be some publisher
would buy it for a 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 little roll from bis hand and
lightly hummed the air.
did you compose it?h she asked
you Il child! And the words? Would
you like to come to my concerto she
asked, after a few minutes of thought.
"Oh, yes!!' and the boys eyes grew
bright with happiness; ''but | couldn't
leave my mother"
az will soud sDp,abnJ,- 10 +olyo o.o
Of your mother for the evening; and
here IS a crown with which you may 90
and get food and medicine. Here is
also Ii of my tickets; come to night,
that will admit you to a seat near
me-
Almost beside himself with JOY,
Pierre bought some oranges and many
q little luxury besides, and carried them
home to the poor invalid, telling her,
not without tears, of his good fortune.
Is y =
When evening came, and Pierre was
admitted to the concert hall, he felt
that never in his life had he been in so
grand Il place. The music, the myriad
lights, the flashing Of diamonds and
rustling of silk, bewildered his eyes and
brain.
At last She came, and the child sat
with his glance riycted upon her glor-
ious face. Could he believe that the
grand lady, all blazing with jewels. and
whom everybody seemed to worship,
would really sing his little song?
Breathless he waited-the band, the
whole band, struck up a little plaintive
melody; he knew it, and clapped his
hands for joy. And oh, how She sang
it! 1t was so simple, SO mournful, 50
soul-subduing-many a bright eyed
dimmed with tears, and naught could
be heard but the touching words of that
song-oh so touching.
Pierre walked home as if he were
moving on the air. What cared he for
money now? The greatest singer of
Ill Europe had sung his little song
and thousands had wept at his grief.
The rcXt day he was frightened at a
visit from Madame Malibran. She laid
her hand on his yellow curls, and turn
ing to the sick woman, said, ''Your
little boy. madam, has brought you a
fortune. | was offered this morning,
by Il publisher in London, three hum
dred pounds for his little song; and
after he has realized a certain amount
from the sale, little Pierre is to share
the profits. Madam, thank God that
your son has a gift from heaven
The noble-hearted singer and the poor
woman wept together. As to Pierre,
always mindful Of Him who watches
over the tiredand tempted he knelt down
by his mothers bedside, and uttered q
simple but eloquent prayer, asking
Gods blessing on the kind lady who
had deigned TO notice their ailliction.
The memory of that prayer made the
singer even more tender-hearted, and
She who was the idol of England's no.
bility went about doing good. And in
her early, happy death he who stood by
her bed, and smoothed her pillow and
lightened her last moments by his UNI
dying affection was little Pierre of
former days-now rich, accomplished,
and the most talented composer of the
day.
All honor to those great hearts who,
from their stations, send down boun-
ty 10 the widow and to the fatherless
child. AAacricdH Farmer.