Fifth Evening"Yesterday," began the Moon, "I looked down upon the
turmoil of Paris. My eye penetrated into an apartment of the
Louvre. An old grandmother, poorly clad—she belonged to the working
class—was following one of the under-servants into the great empty
throne-room, for this was the apartment she wanted to see—that she
was resolved to see; it had cost her many a little sacrifice, and
many a coaxing word, to penetrate thus far. She folded her thin
hands, and looked round with an air of reverence, as if she had
been in a church.
"'Here it was!' she said, 'here!' and she approached the
throne, from which hung the rich velvet fringed with gold lace.
'There,' she exclaimed, 'there!' and she knelt and kissed the
purple carpet. I think she was actually weeping.
"'But it was n