The examiner. [volume] (Louisville, Ky.) 1847-1849, 1847-10-02

well pleased, and sometimes says, THAT is
pretty, Alessandro play it again" But
now comes the voice Of melting, mingGng
souls. That melody, so like the sunshine,
and rainbows, and birds wmbling after
summer shower, with rain-drops from the |
guitar at intervals, and all subsiding into
blissful, dreamy moonlight. Dora leans
forward, gazing earnestly in his face, and
with beaming, fearful eyes, exclaims, ''Oh,
that is very beautiful That is my tune"
"Ies, it is indeed thy tune" replied the
happy husband and when she had heard
IFS history, she knew why it seemed so like
echoes Of her own deepest heart.
Time has passed, and Alesandro sits by
Dora's bedside, their eyes looking into each
other through happy tears. Their love is
crowned with life's deepest, purest JOY, its
most heavenly emotion. Their united lives
have re-appeared in new existence; and
they feel that without this rich experience
the human heart can never know one-half
| its wealth of love. Long sat the father in
that happy stiffness, and wist not that an
gels near by smiled when he touched the
soft down of the infants arm. or twined its
little finger over his, and looked his joyful
tenderness into the mothers eyes. The
tear-dew glistened on those long dark firing
es, when he took up his guitar and played
the beloved tune. He had spoken no word
TO his child. These tones were the first
= sound with which he welcomed her into the
world.
A few months glide away, and the little
Fioretta knows the tune for herself. She
claps her hands and crows at the sight Of the
guitar, and all changing emotions show them
selves in her dark melancholy eyes, and on
her little remulous lips. Play not too sadly,
thou fond musician; for this little soul is q
portion Of thine own sensitive being, more
delicately tuned. All, see now the grieved
lip, and the eyes swimming in tears
Change, change, to gayer measure for the
little heart is swelling too big for its bosom
There now she laughs and crows again
Yet plaintive music is her choice, and es
pecially the beloved tune. As soon as she
t, can toddle across the room, she welcomes
Papa with a shout, and runs to bring the
guitar which Mother must help her carry,
lest she break it in her zeal. II father
mischievously tries other tunes than her ia
Is vorites, she shakes her little curly head, and
trots her feet impatiently. But when he
touches the first notes he ever played to her.
she smiles and listens seriously, as if she
heard her own being Prophesied in music
As she grows older, the little lady evince.
a taste right royal for she mus needs ca
her supper TO the accompaniment Of swes
sounds. 1t is beautiful to see her in he
night gown, seated demurely in her small
armchair, one little naked foot unconsci
ously beating time to the tune. But if III,
E music speaks too plaintively, the big tear
roll silently down, and the porrnger Of milk
all unheeded, pours its treasures on the floor
Then come smothering kisses from the hap
:. py father and mother, and love-clasping
!" with her little soft arms. As the three 81
thus entwined the musician saws playfully
.. "Ah, this is the perfect chord :"
d Three years pass away, and the scene i
Is changed. There is discord now wher
rs such sweet harmony prevailed. The ligh
ar of Dora's eyes is dim with weeping, ant
v Fioretta ''has caught the trick Of grief. ant
lie signs amid her playthings." Once, wher
g she had waited long for her beloved father
E. she ran to meet him with the guitar and b,
ID pushed her away, saying angrily, $50 t.
d. bed; why did your mother keep YOU up -
{, long p The sensitive little being, so east,
'. repulsed, went to her pillow in tears; ant
le after that she no more ran to meet hin
le with music in her hand, in her eye and il
b. her voice. flushed now is the beloved tune
lie To the unhappy wife it seems mockery tt
Of ask for it; and Alessandro seldom touche
d his guitar he says be is obliged to pla,
lie enough for his bread, without playing to hi.
d family at home. Al the glee-club the brigh
10 wine has tempted him, and he is slowly
.r burying heart and soul in the sepulchre of the
a body. Is there no way to save this beauti
1t fol son Of genius and feeling? Dora at frs
e pleads with him tenderly; but made ner
'e vous with anxiety and sorrow, she at las
r speaks words that would have seemed i'm
e possible to her, when she was so happy, seat
" en- in the rustic chair in the moonlighted gar
e den; and then comes the sharp sorrow, which
v a generous heart always feels when it has &c
# spoken to a cherished friend. In such mo
Y ments Of contrition, memory turns with fonc
II sadness to the beloved tune. Fioretta
d whose little fingers must stretch wide Il
! reach an octave, is taught to play it on the
# piano, while mother sings to her accompa
y niment, in their lonely hours. After such
e seasons, tenderer reception always greeted
the wayward husband but his eyes, dulled
: with dissipation, no longer perceived the deli
5 cate shadings of love in those home pictures
A once so dear to him. The child is afraid
e Of her father, and this vexes him; 80 a
t strangeness has grown up between the two
= playmates, and casts shadow over all their
$ attempts at Joy. One day, Alessandro
came home as twilight was passing into
5 evening, Fioretta had eaten her supper, and
sat on her mothers lap, chatting merrily !;
but the little clear voice hushed, as soon as
her fathers step was heard approaching
he entered with flushed cheek and unsteady
motions, and threw himself full length on
the sofa, grumbling that it was devilish dis.
NAL there. Dora answered hastily, "When
a man has made his house dismal. if he
don't like it, he had better stay where he
finds more pleasure. The next moment
she would have given worlds if she had not
spoken such words Her impulse was to
20 and fall on his neck, and ask forgiveness.
but he kicked over little Fioret.-'
with such violence that r. =,