Illustration: THE PALACE IN BERLIN.]

"Frederick loved everything that was French in art. The French
expression is seen on everything at Sans-Souci. The approach to the
palace is by an avenue through gardens laid out in the Louis Quatorze
style, with alleys, hedges, statues, and fountains.

"The famous palace stands on the top flight of a series of broad
terraces, fronted with glass. Beneath these terraces grow vines,
olives, and orange-trees. In the rear of the palace is a colonnade.
There Frederick used to pace to and fro in the sunshine, when failing
health and old age admonished him that death was near. As his
religious hopes were few, his reflections must have been rather lonely
when death's winter came stealing on.

[Illustration: GROTTO.]

"The room where Frederick studied, and the adjoining apartment where
he died, are shown. The former contains a library consisting wholly of
books in French.

"We returned to Hamburg.

"We were in old Danish territory already. We stopped but one night at
Hamburg on our return; then we made our way to the steamer which was
to take us to the Denmark of to-day, Copenhagen."

* * * * *

Among the stories on the Hamburg Night was one by a music-loving
student of Yule, which he called

THE CITY OF HANDEL'S YOUTH.

The composer of the "Messiah," George Frederick Handel, was born at
Halle, Germany, Feb. 23, 1685. He sang before he could talk plainly.
His father, a physician, was alarmed, for he had a poor opinion of
music and musicians. As the child grew, nature asserted that he
would be a musician; the father declared he should be a lawyer.

Little George was kept from the public school, because the gamut was
there taught. He might go to no place where music would be heard,
and no musical instrument was permitted in the house.

But nature, aided by the wiser mother, triumphed. In those days
musical nuns played upon a dumb spinet, that they might not disturb
the quiet of their convents. It was a sort of piano, and the strings
were muffled with cloth. One of these spinets was smuggled into the
garret of Dr. Handel's house. At night, George would steal up to the
attic and practise upon it. But not a tinkle could the watchful
father hear. Before the child was seven years of age he had taught
himself to play upon the dumb instrument.

One day Dr. Handel started to visit a son in the service of a German