Masquerader's Charity

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It was the night of a masque ball at one of the foreign embassies and everybody that was anybody was invited. The fantastically dressed guests drive up, one after the other, mount the marble steps, and pass into the brilliantly lighted hall. No one has time to stop for a moment and offer a word of comfort or a few pennies to the half-starved little flower girl who stands at the entrance offering her wares for sale. Nobody but a big, burly policeman, who pushes her back roughly, telling her that she must not annoy the guests. The poor little mite, seeing now that there is no chance of getting a few pennies, hides her pinched face in her arm and weeps as if her little heart would break. One of the guests, a rich banker, whose carriage has to wait in line, notices the little girl, and going over to her questions her, but her wan face and ragged dress tell the tale; so young, and still already called upon to take up the struggle against want and poverty. Taking the little one gently by the arm, he conducts her to a nearby shop, where he procures food. A queer pair indeed they make as they pass on arm-in-arm, he in his satin and bells and she in her rags. On the way she tells of the little sick brother at home with no food and no one to care for him. When they leave the shop, therefore, she takes her kind friend to the poorest of attic rooms. In one corner is a little heap of old rags which the banker finds to be the little sick brother. The little sister arouses the poor weak boy, and telling him of their good fortune, helps him over to the improvised table, on which the kind gentleman is arranging the food. The little tots eat ravenously while their benefactor stands by with tears in his eyes, but at the same time wearing a smile on his lips, as he has already made up his mind to adopt the pretty little couple for his own. He therefore takes them to his magnificent home and hides them in a wardrobe while he goes in search of his wife. He tells the latter of his night's adventure, and opening wide the wardrobe door lets her see for herself. She does not hesitate for a moment, but clasping the little waifs in her big motherly arms, takes them to her heart at once.