The Anti-Slavery Alphabet
Listen, little children, all, Listen to our earnest call: You are very young, 'tis true, But there's much that you can do. Even you can plead with men That they buy not slaves again, And that those they have may be Quickly set at liberty. They may hearken what _you_ say, Though from _us_ they turn away. Sometimes, when from school you walk, You can with your playmates talk, Tell them of the slave child's fate, Motherless and desolate. And you can refuse to take Candy, sweetmeat, pie or cake, Saying "no"--unless 'tis free-- "The slave shall not work for me." Thus, dear little children, each May some useful lesson teach;
Andrea turned and drew back under his chair the foot that had been
seeking that of the fair Marianna, fixing his eyes on her while
listening to Gambara.
"I was born at Cremona, the son of an instrument maker, a fairly good
performer and an even better composer," the musician began. "Thus at
an early age I had mastered the laws of musical construction in its
twofold aspects, the material and the spiritual; and as an inquisitive
child I observed many things which subsequently recurred to the mind
of the full-grown man.
"The French turned us out of our own home--my father and me. We were
ruined by the war. Thus, at the age of ten I entered on the wandering
life to which most men have been condemned whose brains were busy with
innovations, whether in art, science, or politics. Fate, or the
instincts of their mind which cannot fit into the compartments where
the trading class sit, providentially guides them to the spots where
they may find teaching. Led by my passion for music I wandered
throughout Italy from theatre to theatre, living on very little, as
men can live there. Sometimes I played the bass in an orchestra,
sometimes I was on the boards in the chorus, sometimes under them with
the carpenters. Thus I learned every kind of musical effect, studying
the tones of instruments and of the human voice, wherein they differed
and how they harmonized, listening to the score and applying the rules
Listen, little children, all, Listen to our earnest call: You are very young, 'tis true, But there's much that you can do. Even you can plead with men That they buy not slaves again, And that those they have may be Quickly set at liberty. They may hearken what _you_ say, Though from _us_ they turn away. Sometimes, when from school you walk, You can with your playmates talk, Tell them of the slave child's fate, Motherless and desolate. And you can refuse to take Candy, sweetmeat, pie or cake, Saying "no"--unless 'tis free-- "The slave shall not work for me." Thus, dear little children, each May some useful lesson teach;