The king gave her the petition, and she rapidly glanced through
the opening lines to get some idea of what it was about. As she
read, her eyes began to glisten and her breast to heave. "What is
the matter?" asked the king; "don't you know how to read?" "Oh,
yes, sire" she replied, addressing him with the title usually
applied to him; "I will now read it, if you please."
The two pages were about to leave the room. "Remain," said the
king. The little girl began to read the petition. It was from a
poor widow, whose only son had been drafted to serve in the army,
although his health was delicate and his pursuits had been such
as to unfit him for military life. His father had been killed in
battle, and the son had a strong desire to become a portrait
painter.
The writer told her story in a simple, concise manner, that
carried to the heart a belief of its truth: and Ernestine read it
with so much feeling, and with an articulation so just, in tones
so pure and distinct, that when she had finished, the king, into
whose eyes the tears had started, exclaimed, "Oh! now I
understand what it is all about; but I might never have known,
certainly I never should have felt, its meaning had I trusted to
these young gentlemen, whom I now dismiss from my service for one
year, advising them to occupy the time in learning to read.
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