The Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1868-1895, 1877-06-27
ANGELA'S PRAYER.
BY LYNN WOOD.

1t is night in the streets of fair Italian
city, and the lonely queen of light is passing
gently as a pure and sorrowful lady over
the sleeping needless children of the south,
casting veil of obscurity over all that is
unlovely, and arraying in snowy vesture the
tall shafts and broad walls of marble that
rise here and there, quivering and spectral,
from q bed of darkness.
The great bell of the cathedral sounds
forth one solemn quayering note into the
still blue night. The sick and the watchful
mark the iron tones and pine at the leaden
feet of Time. Sweet sleep, the boon so free
ly bestowed on the thousands around, is
not for them. Tagging lovers, homeward
returning, chide the changing voice which
records the swift passing of those precious
scanty hours, fieeting as minutes, to their
charmed hearts.
At the base of broad fight of white steps
young man stands, holding in parting
embrace beautiful girl, whose
dark, upturned eyes receive in languld &C
.quiessence the passionate gaze of her sup
porter. Again and again he presses her to
his bosom, ere, with a sudden effort she
springs from his arms. and tripping lightly
up the steps is lost from his transfixed gaze
in the darkness of the portico. The clos
ing of heavy door disturbs for a moment
the sleeping echoes, and the young man
turns upon his heel and PAGES slowly down
the narrow street, casting many backward
glance at the massive, insensible walls which
so effectually guard his priceless jewel. This
street led into a wide piazza, on one side OF
which rose the noble, pillared facade
of the beautiful theater. One hour
since the piazza swarmed with
poured into IT, like tumbling waters, from
the enormous building Sna ches of melo-
and Hoafinp nSfS of Phprncoa rise
and again into the clear, night air, inter
mingled with bursts of merry and mischiev-
Gus laughter and the continuous buzz of
many wagging tongues. Now solemn silence
reigns, and the great theater sleeps, wrapped
about in a broad cloak of shadow. Now
methinks might the fairy world have dis
ported itself in May dances, fearless of hui
man interlopers. about the glorious statue
of Apollo, which graced the center
of the piazza, bathed in the fullest
splendor of the moonlight. Answering
beams appeared to stream from the
kingly countenance of the god, lending to il
a semblance of life that was at once beauti-
full and fearful. In such guise did it present
itself to the pale slender girl who crouched
scarcely perceptible, at its feet The poor
upturned face which Beauty bad passed by
wore an expression of utter detection most
mournful to behold The grinding hand of
poverty had no part in this as her rich
though quiet attire testified She rises, and
fixing her gaze upon the statue. says in low,
mourning tones:
"KnoweSt thou not that | am Angela
poor silly Angela. thou beauteous one
that thou lookest with such gracious eyes
upon me2 Other men may look and
smile and Jest with me, poor silly Angela
as with one who is without the pale of
womanhood And why? Because am not
handsome as my sister Sylvia. Because
can not charm them with sweet songs as she
does. Because l can not smile and jest and
laugh as she does. Yet am not woman2
o thou beautious one? Could not love as
other maidens lover Ay, thou knowesti
From henceforth / am thnei Thou art not
light and scornful with me like TO other men,
or to my sister Sylvia. Thou wilt love the
poor Outcast Angela whom they despise."
AS the sad girl spoke these words she flung
her arms about the feet of the god and knelt
there in prostration.
"Long have 1 prayed the Blessed Virgin
for the power to sing even as my sister Syl-
via sings; but she hears me not. Thou-thou
canst bestow that gift! Thou shalt, or / will
never rise again."
Now did the dark italian eyes lose their
languor and blaze with the intensity of the
passion which wrung her slender frame and
caused her to tremble from head to foot.
Was it not sufficient to animate even the
cold marble? What is it she hears that
causes her to rise with a wild articulation,
and clasp her hands upon her bosom with a
fervid violence that bruises the tender
fesh2
The strains of a love-ditty, sung in a high
tenor voice by some one at no great distance
warned Angela to forsake her shride and
fee Scarcely, however, had she departed
six PAGES from the statue when. in her heed
less haste, she fell into the arms of the man
whom she would escape.
We'll, my. pretty night-bird, hast thou
found a nest?'
30 Antonio, Is il thouP
Angela What Angelal' exclaimed in
his turn the gay Antonio, as he Withdrew
his arms from the trembling girl SIS IL
we'll DONE" be continued, in reprovine
tones, ''for young girl TO wander at large
these dangerous hours OF night7'
Nay, dear Antonio. fear not for me. Who
will modest the poor Angela?' and she
laughed a low secret laugh. give thee
good night, dear Antonio" Like a shadow
the girl fitted noselessly across the piazza
and was lost in the darkness of a marrow
street.
Signor Antonio conceived extremely vel
of himself as be lounged Enormously in the
impresario's chair. Had not the great signol
departed for England that foggy home o.
wealth, and did not Antonio reign in hi
stead7 Therefore in every sip of his matu
final chocolate he sucked satisfaction, and il
every Whit OF his cigarette blew blessings OF
that careless, light hearted Italian world
with whom he so sympathized, who &C
guessed 50 heartily in hlm, their iliustriou
first tenor.
Leisurely and daintily he looked through
his correspondence. making here and ther'
careless note for the guidance of his writer
At length, over blank sheet, the dehcat
white hand had fingered, and with many I
hasfv erasure and many a commemorative