The weekly Ottumwa courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1857-1872, 1859-10-27
PcrilsO Del Vaga.

Near wretched farmhouse, in the shal-
ow of clump of olive trees, naked and
beautiful infant lay asleep. with the fingers
OF one tiny hand entangled in the hair of a
goat, who slept also by the side Of her foster
child. Nature is kind to her Italian pro-
geny, and with the bright sun, the soft
sumner air, and the four-footcd companion.
who was both foSter-mother and playmate,
the little Piero throve as few children do
within gilded walls and beneath silLen cur
tains. His father, Giovanni BuonaccorSo
was soldie. IN the service or Charles VIII
king of France, He was brave man. but
careless about the end of life, so its conrSe
was eleeful. He gambled away his patri-
mony without regret, aud having lost his
wife OF the plague, he deemed It unwisc to
mourn for her. Neither was he favorably
inclined toward parental cares and labors so
leaving his baby boy in the hut we have
mentioned, he went to 1gIe the fair Bo,og-
nese under the long colonnades of their noble
city. Kindred natures readily discover each
other, and the dashng lancer sooa found
fair widow who had recently been bereft of
her whole family by the fearful epidemic, vet
who was, like himself. accessible to consola-
ion. In short time the two plighted their
faith at the altar, and for few months the
neglected Picro, called Perino by wav OF
nom de caresse, revelled in the delights OF
home. Restless of habit, and necessitous
from waste, however, Giovanni wearied of
repose, and placing his boy in the care OF
some Florentine relatives, ne set out for
France. Pierino was scarcely beyond in
fancy, when his kindred, unable or unwil-
ling to support him, apprenticed him to the
apothecary of the Pinadoro Pima d ORC, from
the gilded lir co he which was his sign).-
Looked at from without, this splendid cone
seemed to illuminate all within the shop. The
nice marble shelves, also, with their rows of
variously colored liquids, appealed not un-
pleasantly to his youthful fancy, while the
unceasing din of the heavy mortar reminded
him the sounds ofifastal preparations, and
certain sweet cakes with which they were in
separably connected. But once installed as
waiter to the establishment, everything was
changed. Gone the long lounges under the
magnificent towers Of the 7srzo Cerchio: van
ished the delicious dreams in the Santa Ma.
riu da Fiore, where Arnolfo, and Giotto,
and Brunelleschi smiled upon him from their
work, and where the sunlight, streaming
through the stained glass Of Gambassi, the
world-renowned master of his art, awakened
within him vague but enhancing sensations.
His little bare feet, pattered, indeed, at all
hours along the narrow streets, but they no
longer stopped before Ghiberti's incompara-
BILE gates, nor did he even dare to. step with
in the Santo Spirito, to kiss the lovely Christ
with the beautiful goldfnch in his hand, so
beautiful and so lfe-like, that it seemed
ready to sing. He pined visibly, until Andrea
de Ceri, happening to perceive it, inquired
the cause of his master.
Il am as much in the dark as yourself"
replied the apothecary. 81 give him enough
to eat, time to sleep, and sometimes take
turn at the mortar myself, when the other
boys are busy, so that he may not be over
worked"
Perhaps It's the mind, neighbor, the
mind. Would you be willing 10 give him
up if he likes my trade best ?"
ITO be sure, Andrea. I didn't take the
poor child to make money by him; but the
fathers dead, you know, and the relations,
why they're well enough, but they haven't
your heart, that is all. Pierino! pierino! I"
A pair Of sweet, sad eyes looked out from
behind screen.
"Pierino," said Andrea. "We'll drop the
~ u 1tlG eosior Perino would Won like to 90