Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1861-02-15

were to De two OF his fellow dodgers. 1he
third was already there, and sound asleep,
with bis face to the wall They scarcely
looked at the third. They were all anx-
ious to rise at day break, having all agreed
to walk together over the Wengern Al p as
far as Lauterbrunnen. So my brother and
the two youths exchanged brief good
night, and before many minutes, were all
as far away in the land of dreams as theig
unknown companion.
My brother slept profoundly-so pro-
foundly that, being reused in the morning
by a Glamour of merry voices, he sat up
dreamingly in his rugs and wondered where
be was.
od-day, Signor, cried Battisto. Here
is fellow-traveler going the same way as
Christien Baumann, native of Kander-
steg. musical box maker by trade, stands
five feet eleven in his shoes, and is at mon-
sieur's service to command, said the sleep
er of the night before.
He was as fine young fellow as one
would wish to see. Light and strong, and
well proportioned, with curling brown hair
and bright. honest eyes that seemed to
dance at every word he uttered.
Good-morning, said my brother. You
were asleep last night when We came up
Asleep! I should think so, after being
all day in the fair, and walking from Mey-
rlngen the evening before What cap
ital fair it was!
Capital, indeed, said Battisto. We sold
canoes and mosaics yesterday for nearly
fifty francs.
Oh, you sell canoes, and mosaics, you
two. Show me your canoes, and | will
show you my musical boxes, | have such
pretty ones, with colored views of Geneva
and Chillon on the lids, playing two, four
or even eight tunes Bah! l will give you
a concert
And with this be unstrapped his pack
displayed his little boxes on the table, and
wound them up, one after the other, to the
delight of the Italians.
helped to make them all myself, every
one, sad he proudly. Is it not pretty mu-
sic? I sometimes set one of them when |
go to bed at night, fall asleep listening
to it. ] am sure then to haye pleasant
dreams But let me see your canoes. =
Perhaps | may buy one for Marie if they
are not TOO dear. Marie is my sweetheart
and we are to be married next week.
Next week exclaimed Stefano That
is very soon. Battisto has sweetheart
also, up at Impruneta: But they will have
to wait long time before they can buy
the ring.
Battisto blushed like a girl.
Hush, brother said he. Show your
canoes to Christien, and give your tongue
holiday.
But Christien was not to be put off.
What is her name? said he Tush
Battisto you must tell me her name Is
she pretty? Is she dark or fair. Do you
often see her when you are at home? Is
she very fond of you? Is she as foud Of
you as Marie is of ne?
Nay, how should know that? asked the
sober Battisto. She loves me, aid l love
her
And her name?
Margherita.
A charming name And she is herself as
pretty as her name, I'll engage. D d you
say she was fair?
said nothing about it one way or the
other, said Battisto, unlocking green box
clamped with iron, and taking out tray af-
ter tray of his pretty wares There =
Those pictures all inlaid in little bits are
Roman mosaics-thcse flowers on back
ground are Florentine. The ground is Of
hard, dark stone, and the flowers are made
Of thin slices of jasper, onyx. cornelian, and
so forth. Those forget-me-nots, for in
stance, are bits of turquoise. and that pop
py is cut from coral.
l like those Roman ones the best, said
Christien. What place is that with all the
arches?
This is the Coliseum, and the one next
to it is ST. Peter S. But we Florentines
care little for the Roman work. 1t is not
half so fine or so valuable as ours. The
RomaEs make their mosaics of composition.
Composition or no, like the little land
scapes best, said Christien. There is a
lovely one. with pointed building, and a
tree, and mountains at the back. How l
should like that one for Marie
You may have it for eight francs, re-
piled Battisto; we sold two Of them yes
terday for ten each. 1t represents the
tomb Of Castius, near Rome.
A tomb. echoed Christien, considerably
dismayed Diable! That would be dis
NAL present to ones bride.
She would never guess that it was a
tomb if you did not tell her.
Christien shook his head.
That would be next door to deeeiyine
her, said be.
Nay, interposed my brother, the owner
of that tonb has been dead this eighteen
or nineteen hundred years. One almost
forgets that be was ever buried in it.
Eighteen or nineteen hundred years?-
Then he was heathen?
Undoubtedly, if by that you mean that
be lived before Christ,
Christien' face lighted up.
Q that settles the question, said he. pull
ing out his little canvas purse, and paying
his money down at once A heathen' S
tomb Is as good as no tomb at all. I'll
have it made into brock for her, at IN
terlaken, Tell me, Battisto, what you'll
take home to Italy for Margherita?
Battisto laughed, and cbinked his eight
francs That depends on trade, said be
if we make good profits between this and