To fairer dawning than ours has known--
A fountain of light forever flowing
Forth from the great white throne.

[Illustration: {Tim gazes at the goods in the confectioner's window}]

TIM, THE MATCH BOY.

Tim had been standing for a long while gazing in at the confectioner's
window. The evening was drawing in, and ever since morning a thick,
unbroken cloud had covered the narrow strips of sky lying along the
line of roofs on each side of the streets, while every now and then
there came down driving showers of rain, wetting him to the skin.

Not that it took much rain to wet Tim to the skin. The three pieces of
clothing which formed his dress were all in tatters. His shirt, which
looked as if it never could have been whole and white, had more than
half the sleeves torn away, and fell open in front for want of a
collar, to say nothing of a button and button-hole. The old jacket he
wore over it had never had any sleeves at all, but consisted of a
front of calf-skin, with all the hair worn away, and a back made with
the idea that it would be hidden from sight by a coat, of coarse
yellow linen, now fallen into lamentable holes. His trousers were
fringed by long wear, and did not reach to his ankles, which were blue
with cold, and bare, like his feet, that had been splashing along the
muddy streets all day, until they were pretty nearly the same color as
the pavement. His head was covered only by his thick, matted hair,
which protected him, far better than his ragged clothes, from the rain
and wind, and made him sometimes dimly envious of the dogs that were
so far better off, in point of covering, than himself. His hands were
tucked, for warmth, in the holes where his pockets should have been;
but they had been worn out long ago, and now he had not even
accommodation for any little bit of string, or morsel of coal, he
might come across in the street.

It was by no means Tim's habit to stand and stare in at the windows of
cake shops. Now and then he glanced at them, and thought how very rich
and happy those people must be who lived upon such dainty food. But he
was, generally, too busy in earning his own food--by selling
matches--to leave him much time for lingering about such tempting
places. As for buying his dinner, when he had one, he looked out for
the dried-fish stalls, where he could get a slice of brown fish ready
cooked, and carry it off to some doorstep, where he could dine upon it
heart