Full text: A picture-book without pictures

CIFTH EVENING. 
«YESTERDAY, began the Moon, “I looked down 
upon the busy city of Paris; my gaze penetrated 
into the apartments of the Louvre. An old woman 
poorly dressed — for she belonged to the lower 
classes — followed one of the inferior servants 
into the large empty throne rooms; this was what 
she had long wished and determined, if possible. 
to see; and it had cost her many a little sacrifice 
and much urgent entreaty, before she succeeded 
in obtaining admittance. She folded her lean 
hands together, and looked round the room de- 
voutly, as if she were in a church. ‘It was 
here!’ she said ‘here!’ And she approached the 
throne, from which hur« rich velvet cover- 
ing bordered with a golden fringe. ‘Here!’ she
	        
Waiting...

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