Then she leaned her head upon his shoulder, and began to sing, but very softly, lest some one should hear. She sang of the blazing fire, of the candles burning, of the flowers, of the pictures, of the undressing, of the kisses, of the sleeping child, and then of other little children walking in the streets, led by beautiful ladies.
Then it seemed as if she herself were one of these little girls. In her dream, she, too, was dressed in gay clothes, warmed herself by glowing fires, or was led along sunny streets by a gentle lady: and all the while she seemed to keep on singing; and everybody—the loving mothers and the pretty children—sang with her, until the whole air was filled with music. Her little bird, too, seemed to be there, and was singing with the rest: he came and nestled in her bosom.
Then in this beautiful dream she found herself sitting alone, clothed in white garments, in the midst of a soft, silvery light. A river rolled at her feet, beyond which hung, like a veil, a thin, shining mist. It was from behind this mist that the light was shed about her. Still the music kept on, but far more loud and sweet. It came from beyond the river; and she heard a voice in the air, saying, “Come and sing with the angel-children.”
Then she arose, and stood gazing like a lost child, not knowing how to cross the stream. But instantly a smile spread over her face; for she saw standing near, upon a bridge of flowers, a lady, in whose face were exceeding beauty and sweetness. She stretched forth to Nora her hands, saying in gentlest tones, “Come this way, my darling.” And Nora trembled with joy, and smiled still more brightly; for the countenance of the lady was beaming with love, and the darling was in her eyes as she clasped to her bosom her own dear little child.
At early dawn a policeman found Paul lying in the straw asleep; and leaning upon his shoulder was the face of his little sister, stiff and cold in death. But the smile of joy was still there, and was witnessed by hundreds that day; for a great many people came to see the little frozen beggar-girl who had passed from her life of sorrow with so sweet a smile.
One of these persons, after hearing the policemen, beggar-woman, and others tell what they knew of Nora’s life, took one long look at her face as she lay there like a child smiling in its sleep; then went home and wrote the above story of the Little Beggar-Girl.
WIDE-AWAKE.
Da, da, da! Don’t sing “By-lo” anymore, nor rock harder, nor tuck in the blankets, nor cover my eyes up, nor pat, nor sh— me: it really makes me laugh; for I’m awake,—wide-awake! Shut up peepers? put my little heddy down?—not a bit. Go to s’eepy?—no, I’m going to waky: I am awaky; I see you; I see red curtains, see pictures, see great doggy.