The Burlington weekly hawk-eye. [volume] (Burlington, Iowa) 1857-1858, 1857-07-15

a. ~ ~ took In washing in the one room
lawn stairS but niver Bit would she let
~ child do Tor ITSELF bat waited on il like .
0lase, and only taught i tossing, - IL moth,
Or did before IT, she said end last yeaf Their
60 died. This poor creature took on 20 bad
that took her myself, only I'll be bringin'
her up differently, intirsly; IN teach her g
earn her bread, ct any rate, and % send
her out every day, to sing to the great folks
an makes her help me to carry around the
clothes, and that il al cir"
sit was very GOOD iay Bridget, to take
| the little orphan; you have saved her from
I'D iass yoa will be rewarded, you mar dc.
pend.
Bridget raised her eyebrows and dropped
. courtesy, while little Casta Diva, 40 Mr.
Patron then, and ever since has called her
hid her face in the bed and sobbed to hear
her own story related. The kind gentleman
looked at her tenderly and then continued:
Il have . plan for this poor child, which
will relieve you Of your charge, and repay
yOu Tor your goodness of heart. Good night
little one; I'll come tomorrow Dry your
tears, for will yet make you happy Here
Bridget i some money for you aud be sure
1 you do notsend her out to sing again.
have something bettsr for her to do
Bridget dropped another courtesy; and her
mouth opensd wide Or she was ali mysti6ed
and hswildered.
Al hour later and Mr. Patron is again
seated in On easy chair before his bright
| coal Ars, with his dressing gown once more
folded around him. The only difference is
that he smiles instead Of signing as he did
! before. H
"Ah, yes," be says, Il see my way clear.
can now without hesitation, call uTon Mad
anne Victor in her room 10 interest her about
my little Casta Diva win tell her the
story and engage her to cultivate tho voice
Of my protegc will zee her tomorrow
morning and perhaps she viii accompany
me to Bridgets lodging Not . very roman
tic walk 70 invite the lady of my heart to
share, but then the circumstances are pecul-
lar"
Now l think Of it. must ,engage of my
lsndlady the little bedroom next to mine
| ub for my own. will change her name to
Casta Diva Patron 1t sounds musical, and
she is musical herself If sweet Madame
Victor only secs in her what do, we shall
| be an amazing happy family i declare |
feel like a husband and father already
shall find enough to do with my money after
| all"
And so he goes to bed and dreams of his
future joys till he fairly laughs aloud in his
sleep. S
Now it is morning, and if you will pct
your head out Of your door you can see him
walking along the hall. He stops at s.
knocks gently; but the rich toned piano,
touched BY thrilling hand, does not allow
SO dove-like a tap to be heard. This time he
knocks louder, the music stops, and the door
is opened by beautiful woman, who smiling
" invites him to enter. Well, don't won
der he fell in love with her! They closed
the door. Lets you and 60 and peep at
the key-hole and hear what they have to say
III neve. tell will your Hark Well, alter
all can't tell what they said now. because |
promised wouldn't but Patron has staid in
there great while, and he don't ask her to
sing or play all the time.
Now the door opens again and they come
out together, he in his overcoat and hat, she
in her cloak and velvet bonnet He looks
very much excited, and she looks pale and
trembles SO she can hardly speak She
takes his offered arm, and goes down stairs
and out of the street door. do believe they
are going to Bridget's.
And so they are
Good Mr.. Patron walks slowly with the
sweet lady, for she has every reason to
tremble; she believes she is Lauretta' man.
ma; for she has been telling her friend how
her husband was kille, in a dreadful mob
one day, because he was great politician,
and when they had burned his house they
took and threw her into prison, where she re.
manned whole year, and only made her es-
cape when du ring the terrible trouble in tia
~, the prison doors were unbarred to all,
She sought trantically for her child, but
in vain; and believing that both Lanretta and
her nurse were crushed in the mob that xii
led her husband, she came to America to trv
to earn livelihood among the hospital
strangers by her fine musical education and
uncommon voice. ~,
Madame Victor believes that Lauretta is
her Child because their stories are so strong
" alike. Five years have prssed since she
left Italy, but she knows that her eyes wi
no, deceive her. Her baby's features are
indciibly engraved upon her heart.
Her kind friend supports her up five flights
OF stairs and she stops to take breath ana
to nerve herself Tor ether intense happiness
or disappo ntnent
They are about to enter the room, when
little voice greets her c,.rsssinging with won
derful power and expression an Italian mel
ody, whic. the lady herself used to sing in
her own sunny land She stops and
grasps the arm Of her friend
''Oh wait" she whispers, "let me try" with
great effort she continues and completes
the unfinished strain in voice that an an
gels might not exceed.
Ho opens the door.
Lauretta stands in the centre Of the floor
alone, pale and agitated her greateyes dilated
with emotion long repressed. Her mothers
voice has reached a spot in her little heart,
which vibrates on her memory like glimpse
of Heaven
Madame Victor sinks upon a chair, and
gazes long and earnestly upon the little mo-
tionless figure; then she reaches out her arms
and whispers "come here"
&. Lauretta slowly advances and when she
is close to the lady she nestled her head up
on her bosom, and draws a long deep sigh.
"Tell me your name, sweet one.
The lady presses the little form still clos
or
Darling, am your mother
~ know it, sighed the child
"You know it, my angel! /
ayes; have seen you in my dreams, and
always called you mother, and when you
sang Just now it brought itall back
Good Mr.. Patron went to the window and
wiped his eyes.
4 y X |
Once again we see him sitting in his easy
chair before the bright coal fire. BY his side |
sits beautiful lady-one hand lies in his,
and the other was tendcrly stroking his hair
but her eyes are resting upon the little fairy |
who sits at the piano, silently dreaming ov-
er some Of Handlers music which her papa |
has brought home to her.
The lady is his wife
The fairy is his ''Casta Diva"
While at the artists exhibition yester- |
day, our reporter was standing near Ste |
phenson's bust of "Ruth." A friend, point
ing to the yelled head of the Jewish maiden |
said, sit is not every girl that gets such !
beau as (Boaz) she did" The reporter med,
itafpd then smiled and i'm a+alv nronos-