Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1857-07-16
ST CLAIRSVILLE OHIO, THURSDAY, JULY l6 1857


about nv little Casta Diva. | will tell her
the story and engage her to cultivate the
voice of my little protege. Twill see her
tomorrow morning and perhaps she will ac
company me to Bridget's lodging. Not
very romantic walk TO invite the ledy of my
heart to share, but then the circumstances
are peculiar.
'Now think of it, must engage of my
landl1dy the little bedroom neyt 20 mine.
I am determined to adopt that singing cheru6
for my own. | viii change her name to
Casta Diva Patron. 1t sounds Land
she is musical herself If sweet Madame
Victor only sees in her what do, we shall
be an amazing happy family. declare |
feel like husband and father already. /
sh u find.enough to do with my money aft
er sll.'
And so he goes to bed and dreams OF his
future joysAti Il he fairly laughs aloud in hiss
seep. ~
Now it is morning, and if5vou will put
your head out of your door you can see hin
walking along the hall. He stops ats
knocks gently; but rich toned piano, touch
ed bv a thrilling hand, does not nilow so
dove like q tap to be heard. This time he
knocks louder, the music stops.and the door
is opened by beautiful woman, who snlil-
ingy invites him to enter. Well, L don't
wonder he fellrin love with her. They
closed ;he deor. Lat's you and | 60 and
peep at The key-hoe and hear what they
have to say. I'll a yer tell-wll youl Ha-k!
Well, after all caE'tt tell what they said
nov, because Promis d | wouldn't; but
Patron has staid in there great wh he, aud
he don't ask her to sing or play all the tma-
Now the door opens again aud they come
oUt together; he in his overcOat and hat;
she in her cloak and velvet bonnet. He
looks verv much excited, and she looks pale
and trembIes so she can hardly speak. She
takes .is offered arm, and goes down stars
aGd cut OF The street door. do believe thsy
are g ing to Brdget's.
! And So they are
| Good MI. Patron walks slowly with the
sweet lady, for she has every reason to
trembe: she believes she is Lauretla's
mamma: for she has been tie ling her friend
! how her husband was killed in dreadful
mob one day, because he was great poll
tician, aud when they burned MS house they
/ took and threw her into prison, where she
remained whole year, and only made her
escape when during the terrible trouble in
! Italy, the prison doors were unbarred 10
all.
| She sought frantcally for her child, but
in vain; end believing that both Laure ia
ana her nurse were crushed in The mob that
killed her husband, she came TO America
10 try to earn livelihood among the hospta-
Bile strangers by her musical education and
uncommon voice.
| Madame Victor believes that Lauretta
is her child, because their stories are so
strongly alike. Five yea ars have passed since
/ she left Italy; she knows that her eyes viii
not deceive her-Her baby's features are IN
deiibly engraved upon her heart.
-; y a. 7Einds friend .so,sPoris hsr9ila Ers
| fightcfsstairs, and she stops to tske osearh
and nerve herself either tor intense happl-
ness or disappointment.
| Fiiey are about 10 enter the room when
little voice greets her ears, singing with
wonderful power aid expression, an Italian
me Iody, which the lady herself used TO sing
in her OWN sunny land: She steps and
grasps thegarm Other friend.
"Oh, wait" she whispers, ''let me Try"
with great effort, she continues and COM
pletes tie strain in voice that angels might
not exceed.
lie open, the door.
Lauresra slands in the centre Of the floor
alone, pale and agtatsd, her great ewes di-
lated with emotion long repress d. Her
mothers voice had reached spot in her
little heart, wh,ch vibrate on her memory
like u glimpse OF Heaven.
Madame Y ctor sinks upon Il chair, and
guzes long and earnestly upon the little
motionless figure; tEen she stretches aut
her arms and whispers, 'come here
Lauretta slowly advances, and when she
is close to the lady she nestled herhead upon
her bosom. aud draws long deep sigh.
Tel me your name sweet one
The lad presses the little form still elo-
ser.
Daring, am your mother!'
i bhON II, sIsHS" the 1H!iu'
You know it, my ange!' %
'Yes; have seen You in my dreams, and
always called you mother and when you
sang Iust now it brought it ali back!
Go3d Mr.. Patron went to the window
and wipe his eyes.
x
Once again we see him sitting ia his
easy chair before the bright coal fire. By
his side sits beautiful ady-one hand lies
in his, and the other was tenderly s,rokirg
his hair, but her eyes are resting uPon the
little fairy who SITS 1t the piano, silently
dreaming over some of Handel's music
wbich her. papa las brought home 20 her.
The lady is his wile.
>'fhe fairy is his asta Diva