A PICTURE OF POVERTY.
Madame Tube, the mother of Madelaine, was a great sufferer from
rheumatism. Severe pain had kept her awake almost the whole night; but
towards morning a heavy sleep gave her some relief, and prevented her
hearing the crowing of a cock in a neighboring yard, which usually
disturbed her: Madelaine, however, heard it well, and making as little
noise as possible, she rose from her miserable bed.
It was still quite dark in the little room, yet as Madelaine was very
tidy, she easily found her clothes, put them on quickly, and going very
gently into a narrow yard in front of this wretched room she washed her
face, hands, and neck, at the fountain. Perceiving on her return that
her mother still slept, she knelt down and repeated her morning prayer,
with great attention, then taking up the stocking she was knitting,
worked diligently at it until the daylight came feebly in at the little
window, when, putting her knitting aside, she lighted the fire in the
stove and began to prepare breakfast.
"The smoke suffocates me," said Madame Tube, as she awoke coughing.
"Good morning, dear mother," said Madelaine affectionately, "the wood is
damp and the stove full of cracks, but I will try if I cannot stop the
smoke." She then took some clay which she had ready wetted in a broken
cup, and endeavored to stop the large cracks in the stove, which was of
earthenware.
"Raise me a little," said the mother. Madelaine hastened to her--she put
her arms round the child's neck, who had to exert all her strength to
raise her. Madame Tube, whose constant suffering had made her fretful,
said, in a complaining tone, "Where does this terrible draught come
from, is the window open there?"
Madelaine examined it: "Ah," said she, "the rain has loosened the paper
I had pasted to the broken pane, I will cover it up." She then placed an
old oil painting against it, which looked as if it had often served the
same purpose.
"Is the coffee ready?" asked Madame Tube.
"Very soon," replied Madelaine: "only think, dear mother, I have had
some very good beef bones given to me, with which I can make you some
nice soup, and the cook at the hotel has promised to keep the
coffee-grounds for me every day, so we can have some _real_ coffee
this morning, instead of the carrot drink."
"But why are you going about without shoes," said her mother to
Madelaine, "you will take cold on the damp stones? Why do you not put on
your shoes, I say?"
"Do not be angry, dear mother, I must be careful--the soles are already
thin, _so_ thin--like paper."
"Alas! what will become of us?" said Madame Tube.
"Do not fret, dearest mother, I can already earn a little at good Master
Teuzer's, and besides, God who is so very good will not abandon us."
"It is true," replied the mother, "but we have waited long."
"When the need is greatest, help is nearest," rejoined Madelaine.
"Is Raphael not yet awake?" asked Madame Tube.
Something was at this moment heard to move in the dark-corner behind the
stove, and soon after a little boy, half-dressed, came out softly, and
feeling his way. Madelaine advanced towards him, and kissing him with
much affection, said, "Good morning, my Raphael."
The little boy returned her caress, and then asked anxiously, "What is
the matter with Jacot? he does not sing!"
"It is too dark still," said Madelaine, "he is not awake."
Madame Tube said, in a displeased voice, "Yes, yes, his bird makes him
forget every thing, even to say good morning to his mother."
"Do not be angry," answered the little boy as he approached the bed, "I
did not know that you were awake, dear mother, and I dreamed such a sad
dream--that some one had taken away our Jacot--and I was so _very_
unhappy, forgive me, dear mother"--and saying this, he kissed her
affectionately.
Meanwhile Madelaine had placed the mended cup and two others upon the
table--then taking from her basket a penny loaf, she said, smiling, "The
baker at the corner gave me that yesterday evening, because I helped his
Christine to sweep the shop. It is true it is rather stale, but we can
soon soften it in our coffee--and I have milk too, we want nothing but
sugar."
She drew the table close to her mother's bedside, and the little family
ate their poor breakfast with pleasure.
Take example from them ye rich ones of this world, who when you have
every luxury spread before you, are nevertheless often dissatisfied.
Madelaine, joyous from the consciousness of having done her duty, amused
even her suffering mother by her prattle. Thus the time passed quickly
by, when suddenly a beautiful canary, yellow as gold, roused himself in
his narrow cage and sent forth a loud and melodious song.
"Jacot, my Jacot!" cried Raphael, delighted.
His mother said, "The bird recalls us to our duty,--_he_ praises
his Creator before he breakfasts"--and with a weak and trembling voice
she began, "May my first thoughts on this day be of praise to thee, O
Lord!" Kneeling down, the two children joined her as she repeated her
morning prayer, with deep devotion.
At last it grew light in the little room. Madelaine took a needle and
thread and began to mend her frock. Raphael felt about for a heap of
little pieces of silk, which he began to unravel. Both children were
silent, for their mother had taken up a book. After about an hour thus
spent, a loud knocking was heard at the door, and almost before
Madelaine could say "Come in," the door opened and a man entered, who
was so much surprised at the darkness of the room, that at first he
could see nothing. Looking quite embarrassed, he asked, "Is it here that
Madame Tube lives?"
"Ah, it is good Mr. Teuzer, mother, who has come to see us," said
Madelaine, joyously.
Madame Tube tried, but in vain, to rise to salute him. As for Raphael,
he ran to hide behind the stove.
"Well," said Master Teuzer to Madelaine, "I thought you were very ill,
for I have not seen you these four days. Where have you been?"
Madelaine looked quite astonished, and said, "I have been at your house,
sir, and told your apprentice to excuse me to you, because my mother had
a fresh attack of rheumatism, and could not spare me."
"What a naughty boy, he has never told me one word of it. When I go home
I will punish him severely. This then is your mother? She suffers from
rheumatism, you say? Sad malady! but this room is a perfect dungeon,
enough to kill a strong man. Poor people! The stove smokes,
too--wretched stove that it is, made before the flood, I should think. I
must speak to the landlord; it is inexcusable to let such a hole for any
one to live in."
Whilst examining the stove, Master Teuzer had almost fallen over
Raphael, who was sitting behind it unravelling some pieces of silk:
"What!" he exclaimed, "some one else? My little fellow, you will lose
your sight in this Egyptian darkness."
Madelaine sighed, and Madame Tube said in a voice of deep grief, "He has
lost it already."
Teuzer started! "Bl--blind, did you say?" he stammered, and quite
shocked, he led the poor boy to the light--"Look at me, my child," he
said.
"I cannot see you," spoke Raphael, softly as he turned his blind eyes
towards Teuzer.
There is something very touching in such a look. Teuzer was deeply
moved, and turned away as if to examine the stove but in reality to hide
the tears which filled his eyes--"What a misfortune," he said at last,
"and you have not told me of this, Madelaine. Has he been long blind?"
"Since his second year," replied Madame Tube.
"How did it happen?" asked Teuzer.
"We do not know; we perceived it when too late to have anything done;
and in a short time he became quite blind."
"My boy," inquired Teuzer, "do you remember anything of the brightness
of the sun, the blue of the sky, or the face of thy mother?"
Raphael shook his head slowly, and with a pensive air.
"You know nothing, then, of the beauty of the spring--the colors of the
flowers--the whiteness of the snow--the--?"
Here the mother made a sign to Master Teuzer, who, seeing the boy look
very sorrowful, ceased his lamentations, and said, "What is there, then,
that gives you pleasure, my poor boy?"
Raphael's face brightened up, as he answered,--"Oh! I am very happy when
my mother is pleased with me--when Madelaine caresses me--and when I
hear my Jacot sing."
Teuzer reflected a moment--"You are happier, although blind, than
thousands who possess all their faculties. You can hear the kind and
gentle voices of your mother and sister--can tell them of your wants and
sorrows--sure of finding affection and sympathy in their hearts. Compare
yourself, then, my boy with those less happy than yourself; but above
all, raise your heart to Him who has promised to be a Father of the
fatherless, for he will never forsake you." Thus saying, he slipped some
money into Raphael's hand, and took leave of the poor family, who
blessed this benevolent man.