Page 788 - vanity-fair

to the sweep, gave him her mite too. All the bells of Sabbath
were ringing, and she followed them until she came to the
Foundling Church, into which she went. There she sat in a
place whence she could see the head of the boy under his
father’s tombstone. Many hundred fresh children’s voices
rose up there and sang hymns to the Father Beneficent, and
little George’s soul thrilled with delight at the burst of glo-
rious psalmody. His mother could not see him for awhile,
through the mist that dimmed her eyes.

788 Vanity Fair