The herald and mail. [volume] (Columbia, Tenn.) 1873-188?, 1874-09-18
By HORSLEY BROS. & FIGUERS,

erclses, so that hiJ arms seemed para
lyZed. Utterly worn ont, he laid aside
his violin, and leaned his weary head
against the window, when all of sud.
den he heard sharp cry. 1t was the
mother OF Gianetta who called to him.
Springing up with alacrity, he ran
across to his playmate's home. He
found the little girl lying on the bed
her form worn with raging fever, hei
breath coming hard and slow, and hel
bright eyes looking fixedly into space.
On recognizing her friend, she looked
at him with a supplicating glance. which
Nicoio readily interpreted. With tears
in his eyes, he ran swiftly for his dis.
carded instrument, crying as he went
back:
"My sweet little Gianetta, I will
play lullaby it will make you well
again !" He sat down by her bedside,
and forgetting his fatigue, played with
all the fervor of his soul his anguish,
his hope, his love, seemed to breathe
from the wondrous tones, and like the
voices of angels descending to earth,
they eased with sublime harmony the
pains of the sick child, who, at first,
had listened with wild, feverish eager.
ness, which gradually gave place to
calm repose. The restfnlness of her
soul was depicted upon her flushed
cheeks, her little hands were clasped
peacefully. as she murmured gentle
prayers for her faithful friend, who with
fearful eyes and nervous hands was try
ing to soothe the anguish of his own
breaking heart as well as the pains
which racked the form of his sweet lit
tie Gianetta. When he had finished
playing, she held out her thin, white
hand:
"Dear Nicolo," she said in a low.
broken voice, "I am going to leave
you. hear sweet angels calling me.
You can not follow me you must re-
main behind but far from this place,
you will become famous, all the world
will speak your name-oh, then, do not
forget your little Gianetta p Her
head sank back among the pillows, and
almost without a struggle the sweet
eyes closed forever
Nicolo remained gazing absently upon
her lovely face. Alas, for the first time
it was deaf to his tears and supplica
tions. Wild with grief, he wandered
about all day and the greater part of
bue ulSnbs WlGuOub dlul, "lbuOuJ any
thought save that of his utter lonell-
ness. He visited the water-side where
only few days ago they had been so
happy together he fingered in every
spot sacred to their mutual pleasures,
and when at late hour he returned to
his room, he shuddered at the awful
stiffness which reigned there. He look
ed across to Gianetta's home. The
window was open he could see the
child lying asleep in her narrow bed,
almost hidden by the profusion of wild
flowers which she had so loved while
upon earth. A priest was kneeling by
her side, his venerable head bowed and
his trembling lips murmuring prayers
for the repose of her soul. Nicolo
threw himself upon his knees "Fare.
well, farewell MY Joy, my love As
you have told me, am going far from
this place, where everything recalls my
cruel loss where I can find neither rest
nor forgetfulness, deserted as I am by
every creature !" At these words he
trembled- cold touched his
hand. 1t was the spiderl "Poor insect"
he cried "the only living thing left to
me Come, will play to you, for the
last time, the airs which my poor Clan
eta loved. I will play them as a re-
QUEEN for her soul I"
He took out his violin. The sweet,
sad strains of music flooded the air,
wandering out to the little dead child,
who seemed to smile at their message.
Even the flowers seemed to nod their
half-opened corollas, and the kneeling
priest paused in his devotions to listen
to the music's diviner power.
On the morrow the red rays of the
sun fell across a sleeping child, still
clasping his beloved instrument, on the
cords of which lay dead spider
The hero of this little romance is
Nicnln Pananini -Ihe ALHiale