Litchfield enquirer., 1880-01-22
WHOLE NO. 2798

ing of condemning the innocent dumb beasts that have done no harm, and only ask to live in peace thelr simple humble lives
 That IS the way we wiseacres have of pre- venting dogs from going mad" said the un- derlng with grin. ...
 Gualdro did not heed; he had fallen on his knees by Drummer. Drummer was throttling himself in his frantic joy with efforts to get free to join his maste
 "And to think he has fought the Austrians!" said Guadro with sob in his throat.
 He was an old soldier, land not much given to passionate emotion at any time, but with his hands holding the dogs head to his breast he kissed him, he wept over him, he clung to him, he swOre bitter furious oaths that surely would be pardoned like the oath of Uncle To by, were there any angels in creation to hear.
 But the man behind him shook him by the shoulder and forced him up. Come away if you would not ruin me and yourself, and get Isthe dog killed too," he said, not unkindly, but dragging him upward. ''If Mastino should find us here he will put me out of the gates forever, and shoot your poor beast or have him poisoned. Come"
 Wait quietly, my bambino; wait in patience, my comrade, my good, dear friend, my old Tamburinoi" murmured Gualdro in passionate fondness to the dog who crouched down obedient to his bidding but shivered in his chains and moaned, while his four-footed | companions in captivity howled in chorus with him, choked wailing howl, for they were half -strangled by their letters.
 Gualdro got out into the light of day once more, how he never knew, and staggered into the street.
 'And to think he has fought the Austri- ans!' he sad, with curse in his throat.
 "Go and get the money," whispered the un- derling who had befriended hlm. 'They will not let him out, but perhaps they will let hIm live"
 ''Live in that hole choked like thatl"
 "It is the way we cure mad dogs, said the other man, with sardonic grin.
 "But he is not mad ]"
 "But he will be mad. A few days of dark ness and chains will do it then we can kill him, or send him to the doctors to cut up; that is our way" Gualdro groaned aloud.
 70 devils lncarnate !" he yelled. And the dog went through Solferino and Magenta, and was wounded at CustOzza, and fought Austri- ans tooth and claw-fought them himsef!"
 We've had heroes enough" said the man, with grin. "We want money now. Go find the money. Then perhaps you can get him perhaps"
 Gualdro went home-his head swam, bis limbs shook he was old and he had eaten nothing. He went home to his own old quar- ters, where the law had cut down his jessa- mine tree, and had taken the bed from under l his wife, the law of the land he had fought to free. He gathered the people about him on the rough yellow shores by the river where Drummer had used to sit and watch the out spread linen; only the very poor people, the men filling the carts with sand, the men dip | ping their huge square nets in the water, the women washing clothes in the stream, the chii- | dren playing under the sunburnt river wall.
 They all came round him as ne staggered into the midst of them, his grey hair stream l ing back, his bronZed face looking black and ashen gray for they saw that something grave had befalen him, and the Italians are quick in sympathy, if they be not strong in ! action.
 In bitter words he told his tale l And he fought the Austrians !" he cried when he had told it. ''Tooth and claw he fought them; he has the marks of their powder and ball on him still; he was a small thing at Solferino, but never did he finch he has been | braver than men, and truer he fought the Austrians, and he lies in chains. It is vile le-vile-chaned there, and in the dark ! creature that has no sin and all over the land there goes the murderer or the robber, free to murder or rob again ! 1: is vile-vile-vIle! And in few days he will be mad or dead. l For how can find the money they ask? 1 would sell the medals they gave me-aye, I would sell them for the dog But they would | put me in prison for that. What can l do? | What can do?"
 You shall have all the money we havel" | the people cried. "You are an old soldier, and were a brave one. You shall have all the pence we can get. Yes the law is vile. There is the freedom you fought for, poor soul! But that was no fault of yours, no | fault at all"
 | Then quickly vieing one with another, they poured out all they had, diving in ragged | tronser pockets and under rough, torn skirts to find the little they all were worth | Close listed these people are and very mar row in means and Stenterelo is their type on the popular stage yet they can be capable of | noble and generous moments. This was one. | They were only poor boatmen and fishermen, washerwomen and strawplaters, and beggars some of them, yet there was not one that did not give; scores of battered copper pieces and here and there crumpled note of fifty cen times, and one little tiny chid,a brown, curly. dirty cherub, like Del SartOs children, ran into the house and brought out whole bright ceutme bit that had been given her to buy bunch of cherries. "Take for poor To-to!" she cried. ''Take my money, too, for To-to!" Then Gualdro broke down and hid hls face | in his hands, Alas the money, when count ed only camc up to fifteen francs; there was not altogether forty people there on that sun- burnt shore, and most of those who had given l would be pinched of wine or of tobacco for the rest of the week themselves. It was only fif- teen francs, when all was said and done that could be, and the little crowd stood wistfully eyeing the heap of metal, with the little shin- ing one centime bit lying uppermost. ''Perhaps they would let me have him for that ?" said Gualdro with doubt, and yet with hope in his mind.
 ''Surely they would, if you said you would l pay all the rest. Every one knows you are an honest man," said one of the fresh water fish, ermen.
 r Gualdro sighed wearily; he doubted wheth- CT that was enough.
 1 II will try" he said, while the tears fell | down his face. "The saints and Our Lady | reward you; you have been very good to me-" Then he turned to return to where the dog was, not waiting to take bit or drop.
 Bring Toto back" piped the little child who had given her centime-piece. Gualdro stopped, kissed her, and went. When he reached the slaughter-house and asked for the officer who had the keys of life and death for the poor four-footed prisoners, | they took him once more before the man whom the populace called Il Mastino. The old sol- dier held out to him, trembling, the fifteen l francs, the coppers filling his quivering hands, My neighbors have helped me-" he said. l ''I could not get any more. It isffteen francs. | Would you take it and let me have him? l will work day and night to pay the rest; will 70 without bread. Oh for the love of God, do let me have him, the poor, poor innocent thingw
 The man whom they called Il Mastino swore fierce oath, and yelled to him, Out of the place, you beggar. If you say one word more, will blow the brains out of your dog, and if one shot does not do for him he shall have 1 two: he shall have three! 1 am the master here.''
 Then he had Gualdro put out of the gates. The old mau, stood in te blazing sun, mute | and blind as statue IS. No hope was left him; nothing but a blank despair A lady passed by half anhour later and saw 1 him still there. She was stranger in the city, but she was struck by the strange look of the old soldier, standing in the sun, his eyes fixed