Poems (Waldenburg)/Moral Tale

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A MORAL TALE. FRENCH OF ARNAL.
One day, when passing down the street,A little child I chanced to meet,With tearful eyes and looks of woe;"My little friend why weep you so?"I asked, and drew her near to me."I've lost my money, Sir," said she,And it I never more shall find,'Twas given me by my mother kind,A ten-sous piece, so bright and new;I can't but cry, what shall I do?"
"Cease weeping, little one, see, hereIs one that's just as good and clear;So wipe your eyes, and with these sousBuy sweets, or what your heart may choose.A smile like sunlight crossed her face,Yet still beneath it I could traceA look of sadness, so said I,"What ails you now, would you still cry?What further trouble do you hide?""But, Monsieur," low the child replied,"See, this is why I feel so sad,If I those other sous but had—That I have lost, why then, you seeHow glad with twenty sous I'd be!
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