ct DEAN'S illustrate /artlpg %mfa. THE LITTLE BEGGAR. LONDON : DEAN & SON, 11, Ludgate Hill. 12 V mm XAA/UW u w THE LITTLE BEGGAR. It was the morning of a New Year, that had just set in, golden and beautiful. The air was cold, though not piercing. There was a little girl— a child of poverty, on that New Year's morning- walking in the streets with the gay crowd that swept past her. Her little feet had THE LITTLE BEGGAR. 3 grown so numb, encased only in thin shoes, that she could but with difficulty move one before the other. Poor Mary Gray was a little beggar ! Just like the old year was the new year to her. The change of the year brought no change of her condition with it. She was poor, her mother was a widow and an invalid, and the child was a poor beggar ! Little Mary, at times, breathed her hot breath upon her blue and benumbed fin- gers, and stamped her tiny feet with all the force left in them, and then big tears stood trembling in her large blue eyes for a moment, and rolled slowly down her purple cheeks as if they would freeze to them. She had left her mother in bed, sick, exhausted, and famishing! What wonder that she cried, even though those hot tears only dripped on the cold pave- ment ! She would have turned back to go home had she not thought again of her poor mother ; and she w r ent on, though where to go she knew not. A little boy — a bright looking fellow — 4 THE LITTLE BEGGAR. chanced to pass her as she walked and wept and sobbed. He caught the glitter of those tears in the sunshine, and the sight smote his heart. He stopped sud- denly before Mary, and asked the cause cf the tears. She could make no reply, her heart was too full. " Has anybody hurt you?" asked the feeling little fellow, " or have you lost your way ?" he inquired. " No," answered the child. " What is the matter, then V he asked " Mother is poor and sick, and I am cold and hungry. We have nothing to eat. Our room is quite cold, and there are no coals left, Oh ! you do not know all." " But I urill," replied the manly boy, " Where do you live ?" " Will you go home with me?" asked Mary, her face brightening. "Yes, let me go with you," said he; " show me the way." Through street, lane, and alley, she guided him. They reached the door of the hovel. The cold breath of the wind THE LITTLE BEGGAR. 5 whistled in the cracks and crevices, as if inviting them in. They entered. A sick woman feebly raised her head from the pillow, and gave her a sweet smile. "Mary have you come?' she faintly said.