The Somerset press. [volume] (Somerset, Ohio) 1873-1977, 1874-09-04
VOLUME 2.


IL for his discarded instrument, crying
as he came back
"Mv sweet little Gianetta, | will play
lullyby; it will make you we'll again.
He sat down by her bedside, and forget
ting his fatigue, played with all the fer
vor of his soul: his anguish, his hope,
his love seemed 70 breathe from the
wondrous tones, and like the voices OF
angels descending to earth, they ceased
with their sublime harmony the pains OF
the sick child, who at first, had listened
with wild, feverish eagerness, which
gradually gave place to calm repo7e--
1 The restfulness of her soul was depicted
vnon her flushed cheeks, her little han1s
we're clasped peacefully, as she mnrmur-
ID gentle prayers for her faithful friend
| who with fearful eyes and nervous handF
was irving TO soothe the anguish oi ms
own breaking heart as we'll As the pains
which racked the form OF his sweet ilttie
,,;ane:,a. When he had finished play
ing. she held ont her thin, white hand
..Dear Nicolo," she SAID in a low bro
ken voice, 81 am going to leave YOU
near sweet angels calling me. lou can
not follow me; you must remain peh'''ui
/ ,ut far from this place, you VIII become
f,,,op- all the world will speak your
name-oh, then, do not forget your III
,Ia G;ape.,a ~ Her head sank back
among the pillows, and almost wlthou'
s,rugoIe the sweet eyes closed tor
/ everl
Nicolo remained gazing absently upon
her lovely face. Alas for the flrst time
it was deaf to his tears and suPplIca
lions. Wild with grief, he wandered
,bout all day and the greater part OF Inc
night. without aim, without any thongh'
save that of his utter loneliness. lie
visited the water-side where only 1e"
davs ago they had been so happy togeth
or. he fingered in every spot sacred ''
their mutual pleasures, and when al
late hour he returned to his room' III
sb,ddered at the awful stiffness whlcf
-e;oped there. He looked across to Glan
e,ta,s home. The window was open; III
couId see the child lying asleep IN ne
narrow bed. almost hiddsn by the proiu
sion of wild flowers which she had 50
loved while on earth. a priest wa
kneeling by her side, his "ener"ble hea'
boved and his trembling lips murmur
ing prayers for the repose OF her SOUL
. Nicolo threw himself upon his knees :
Farewell, farewell my joy, my love! A
Won have told me, am going far from
this place. where everything recalls m,
cruel loss; where can find neither res
n,r foreetfulness, deserted as | am D.
orerv creaturew At these words h
Notwithstanding cold touched hi
f hand. 1t was the spider! "Poor II
! sect ~ he cried; the only living thin
left to me! Come, will play to you, 70
tbe last time, the airs which poor Clan
eta loved. l will play them as r.
J ouiem for her soul"
, He took out his violin. The swee
sad strains of music flooded the air, war
dering out to the little dead child, VII
" seemed to smile at their message. Eve
.be flowers seemed to nod their half oper
ed corollas, and the kneeling priest pau
d cd in his devotions to listen to the mt
sic's diviner power.
On the morrow the red rays OF the Sn
rell across the sleeping child, still clasI
;nn b;s beloved instrument, on the coro
which lay a dead spider
The hero Of this 1t lie romance Is \
colo Paganini-Ffom The AId'"e j.
September.