The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1866-05-12
THE BROKEN CUP.
FROM THE GERMAN OF szCHoKKE.
MARIETTA.

NAPoULE, it is true, is only very lit
tie place on the Bay of Cannes; yet it is
pretty well known through all Provence.
1t lies in the shade of lofty evergreen
palms, and darker orange trees; but
that alone would not make it renowned.
Still they say that there are grown the
most luscious grapes, the sweetest roses,
and the handsomest girls. l don't know
but ii is so in the meantime | believe
it most readily. Pity that Napoulc is so
small, and cannot produce more luscious
grapes, fragrant roses, and handsome
maidens; especially as we might then
have some of them transplanted to our
own country.
AS, ever since the foundation of Ma
poule, all the Napoulese women have
been beauties, 50 the little Marietta was
a wonder of wonders, rs the chronicles of
the place declare. She was called the
title Marietta; yet she was not smaller
than girl of seventeen or thcreabOuts
ought to be, seeing that her forehead just
reached up to the lips Of a grown man.
The chronicles aforesaid had very good
ground for speaking of Marietta. l, had
l stood in the shoes of the chronicler,
would have done the same. For Mari
eta, who until lately had lived with her
mother Manon at Avignon, when she
came back to her birthplace quite upset
the whole village. Verify, not the
houses, but the people and their heads /;
and not the heads Of all the people, but
of those particularly whose heads and
hearts are always in great danger when
in the neighborhood of two bright eyes.
know very well that such position is
no joke.
Mother Manon would have done much
better if she had remained at Avignon.
But she had been left a small Inherit
ance, by which she received Mt Napoulc
an estate consisting of some vinC-hills,
and house that lay in the shadow of Il
rock, between certain olive trees and
African acacias. This is Il kind of thing
which no unprovided widow ever re-
jects; and accordingly, in her own cs-
timation, she was as rich and happy as
though she We're the Countess of Prov
ence, or something like it.
So much the worse was it for the good
people of Napoule, They never suspect
ed their misfortune, not having read in
Homer how II single pretty woman had
filled all Greece and Lesser Asia with
discord and war.
HOW THE MISFORTUNE CAME ABOUT.
MARIETTA had scarcely been fourteen
days in the house, between the olive
trees and the African acacias, before
every young man of Napoule knew
that she lived there, and that there lived
not, in all Provence, a more charming
girl than the one in that house.
Went she through the village,
sweeping lightly along like dressed
up angel, her frock, with its pale green
bodice, and orange-leaves and rose-buds
upon the bosom of it, fluttering in the
breeze, and flowers and ribbons waving
about the straw bonnet, which shaded
her beautiful features; yes, then the
grave old men spake out, and the young
ones were struck dumb. And every
where, to the right and left, little win
dows and doors were opened with ga
good-morning," or ga good-evening,
Marietta" as it might be, while she
nodded to the right and left with pleas
ant smile.
If Marietta walked into the church
all hearts (that is, of the young people,
forgot Heaven; all eyes turned from