bosom. Pisistratus, affected, and putting the question in Latin.--"Have
you a father?"

Savoyard with his face overcast.--"No, Eccellenza!" then pausing a
little, he says briskly, "Si, si!" and plays a solemn air on the hurdy-
gurdy--stops--rests one hand on the instrument, and raises the other to
heaven.

Pisistratus understands: the father is like the hurdygurdy, at once dead
and living. The mere form is a dead thing, but the music lives.
Pisistratus drops another small piece of silver on the ground, and turns
away.

God help and God bless thee, Savoyard! Thou hast done Pisistratus all
the good in the world. Thou hast corrected the hard wisdom of the young
gentleman in the velveteen jacket; Pisistratus is a better lad for
having stopped to listen to thee.

I regained the entrance to the churchyard, I looked back; there sat the
Savoyard still amidst men's graves, but under God's sky. He was still
looking at me wistfully; and when he caught my eye, he pressed his hand
to his heart and smiled. God help and God bless thee, young Savoyard!