The times. (Owosso, Mich.) 1882-1897, 1894-12-21

wings, harp or halo, lad about Is years
oiu' urcsscd unlike any ono in Nuremberg,
WIN dark blue brooches, IA short cloak ON
mis- shoulders and n little rcd cap on his
piack hair. He carried mu.acal instru-
ment and touched the strings as no glanced
up ut n house where light was cleaning.
The child did not understand the singer s
words, ana feeling sure that nc was using
the language Of heaven she threw herself
at his feet, claspcd her hands and raised
her eyes cntroatingly to his face.
Good angel, l pray thee" she cried,
"help me TO find my groschcn!"
"Thy groschcn, little ones What sayst
thouS" he answered, speaking with u
strange accent why dost thou call me
thy good nngel--me, n poor Italian sing
err"
rs that trucY" asked the child, still in
doubt.
Indeed, yes" hc answered. 81 saw u
light in this fine house and thought that
II l sang might be offered Il nights shell
ter, but nll seems TO be silent"
Every ono but the sick lady and her
servant has gone tO church., explained
the little girl, ana her nearer added;
"Vhen shall go there too And what
wilt thou dor"
At this question tho child, remembering
her loss, began TO cry again, and the lad
took her hand in his, and stroking it asked
gently:
"What is the trouble little one? Tell
me, and if l can help you 1 WILL" He
smiled cheorily as he spoke, and the child
answered.
II have lost my money, my groschen
We never have anything nice for supper
but because it is Christmas time my moth
or gave me tho money to buy sausage
and an apple pie, but l have dropped my
groschen in the snow. We have no more
and now Wo can have no Christmas sup
per-"
''Wherc did you drop ity" asked her lis
tener, and when she pointed to the spot
no knelt down and began turning over tho
snow, when he gave n cry of triumph and
held up q coin in his fingers.
"Oh, you must be an angel! cried the
little girl joyfully, and he added, with a
smile:
"A Florcntine angel, then. My name is
Maso Napone-remcmber it. Now, good
by. Go buy your supper"
Not until 1 have been to the midnight
mass, replied tho girl my mother is
ILL., so must go and pray for her. g."
"Then will go with You, said Maso,
taking her hand What is your name:'
christine Dachs. My mother is the
Widow Gudule."
Poor littlo thingl Do you remember
your father"
Perfectly. He used to hush me to sleep
by the fire every night, and sometimes l
seem to feel his arms round me still. All,
how well he loved mel'
"Your mother has to work."
YES; she does beautiful embroidery l
do little Of it, but have not learned to
work very we'll yet Pretty soon L shall
do 1t better, and then mamma can rest"
Il am all alone in the world" said the
youth when Christine stopped speaking.
II have no parents, no money, no home.
My fathers creditors took everything OK
cept my Lutte, SO 1 left Florence and now
1 earn n little money by singing in the
streets, but / often have to sleep in the
open air and without supper, but / am
very strong so | do not mind it, and
have many happy hours. Beautiful ladies
call mo into their houses to sing to their
guests, and then l am well treated and
well fed.
Tho little girl nodded approvingly, as ii
such conduct were the most natural in the
world, and ut that moment she and her
companion reached the door Of the church
AS they entered Maso dotted his hat rev.
ercntially, dipped his fingers into the holy
water fount and touched them to Chris
tines. Then the two children knelt down
In the shadow of u great pillar which rose to
tho high archcd roof. The whole congrc-
CATION joined in singing the carols, and
tho weak, broken voices Of the aged the
silyery ones of tho children, the sweet
tones of the maidons, the clear high notes
of the young men and the strong, deep
ones of their elders combined to produce
harmonies both powerful and sweet. Maso
could not keep silence Suddenly his
voice rose above tho rest, and it was so
full, so clear and so sweet that every one