COVENT GARDEN.






THE GIANT HANDS.


Poor lit-tle Wil-lie re-turn-ed from the for-est la-den with as much
wood as his fee-ble strength could bear. He was hun-gry and wea-ry, and
had a great sor-row at his heart, for he had lost his fa-ther in the
ear-ly spring, leav-ing his mo-ther to toil for a scant live-li-hood to
sup-port her-self and him.

He threw the wood up-on the cin-ders on the hearth, and quick-ly rais-ed
a cheer-ful blaze, at which he warm-ed his na-ked, swol-len feet, as he
watch-ed the smoke ma-king its fan-tas-tic ed-dies up the wide chim-ney,
and a-midst the raf-ters of the low roof. He heav-ed a deep sigh; for he
saw no pot up-on the fire, which ought to have been bub-bling up with
their fru-gal din-ner: but, a-las! they had none.

"This must not be any long-er," thought he, "for I am get-ting ve-ry big
and strong, and have a pair of hands that ought not to be i-dle. As my
poor mo-ther gets weak-er, I should work for her; and as I grow in-to a
man, she should not work any more, but sit by the fire and get the
din-ner rea-dy, which I shall then be a-ble to la-bour for."

[Illustration: MEETING THE HANDS.]