was plain that Josef's singing could not compete with it. His soprano
showed signs of breaking, and gradually the principal solo parts,
which had always fallen to him, were given to the new chorister. On
a special church day, when there was more elaborate music, the "Salve
Regina," which had always been given to Josef, was sung so beautifully
by the little brother, that the Emperor and Empress were delighted,
and they presented the young singer with twenty ducats.

Poor Josef! He realized that his place was virtually taken by the
brother he had welcomed so joyously only a short time before. No one
was to blame of course; it was one of those things that could not be
avoided. But what actually caused him to leave St. Stephen's was a
boyish prank played on one of the choir boys, who sat in front of
him. Taking up a new pair of shears lying near, he snipped off, in a
mischievous moment, the boy's pigtail. For this jest he was punished
and then dismissed from the school. He could hardly realize it, in his
first dazed, angry condition. Not to enjoy the busy life any more, not
to see Michael and the others and have a comfortable home and sing
in the Cathedral. How he lived after that he hardly knew. But several
miserable days went by. One rainy night a young man whom he had known
before, came upon him near the Cathedral, and was struck by his
white, pinched face. He asked where the boy was living. "Nowhere--I am
starving," was the reply. Honest Franz Spangler was touched at once.

"We can't stand here in the rain," he said. "You know I haven't a
palace to offer, but you are welcome to share my poor place for one
night anyway. Then we shall see."

It was indeed a poor garret where the Spanglers lived, but the
cheerful fire and warm bread and milk were luxuries to the starving