1886.




+THE COMING OF THE PRINCE+




THE COMING OF THE PRINCE


I

"Whirr-r-r! whirr-r-r! whirr-r-r!" said the wind, and it tore through the
streets of the city that Christmas eve, turning umbrellas inside out,
driving the snow in fitful gusts before it, creaking the rusty signs and
shutters, and playing every kind of rude prank it could think of.

"How cold your breath is to-night!" said Barbara, with a shiver, as she
drew her tattered little shawl the closer around her benumbed body.

"Whirr-r-r! whirr-r-r! whirr-r-r!" answered the wind; "but why are you out
in this storm? You should be at home by the warm fire."

"I have no home," said Barbara; and then she sighed bitterly, and
something like a tiny pearl came in the corner of one of her sad blue
eyes.