The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1885-10-28

warmth, a goddess bathed in luminous
atmosphere, with shadow of lick, palm,
and orange groves cast athwart her dra-
peries. and the peaks of Vesuvius and
Monte St. Angelo in the background.
The vision intoxicated him as he passed
by the ancient Via Latina through the
Campagna Fclice, and thence onward to
Naples. He pressed forward eagerly to
the goal. Modern competition did not
dismay, but oh he must learn if ancient
art had traced on marble and fresco of
temple and bath the image he sought.
He gained the museum, oblivious to out
ward event, going and coming in the
cool halls, enriched with Pompeiian urn,
candelabra, bronze, the light cleaning
on crystal and gem, Roman expresses
gazing down cynicslly on Ereid and
Venus. The artist found a stick of
chocolate in his pocket, and ate it while
studying the figures of sarcophagus.
He would have worked on had the Gus
todians dropped about him, for the
town was already plague strick-
en-. Artists have wrought thus
in siege and famine. Naples, spent with
fierce summer heat, stung by sudden
storms, charged with hail. enervated by
tropical showers arousing sickly emana-
tions from the soul, must keep the fiesta
of the Riedegrotta, with jingle of tam
bazza, swapping of castagnettes, and the
partaking of red peppers, fried in oil,
macaroni, rizza, salad and fruit. How
to live without the red tomato sauce2
How to Danish the fig, ripening in luscious
abundance for the good Of man, noursh-
ment of the Roman athlete? The city,
pouting at municipal authority, had
stretched forth her hand and plucked
the fruit. When Roger Hale gained the
town and fastened to the museum, cry
had arisen in the crowded streets, where
the idler paused, staggered, fell, while
his comrades fed.
Roger Hale emerged on thoroughfares
rapidly thinning of frequenters, and
closing shops. He had come hither to
seek a siren, basking on golden sands,
and found the charnel house. The doom
of fear was written on all faces. Death
met him on every side, wrapped in scanty
rags in the hovel and scaling the palace
alike. Old age shriveled before it; the
warm current of the youth was stilled.
The population surged, like restless
tide, dazed, frantic, or fleeing before the
thunderbolt falling in their midst, as
the citizens of Pompeii once fed from
the lava torrent. After revelry came re-
pentance.
Roger Hale decided to return to Rome
by the next trair. He went out into the
streets. A procession hemmed him
against wall; girls, old men. children
swept past with a startled rush of feet
and rags. A boy fell forward on his
knees, the old water vender at the cor.
ner threw up her arms, as if stricken
by an invisible missile. Beyond a crowd of
gamblers fell into an ecstacy because the
lucky numbers had turned up for
Naples in the lottery. A band of
youths begged aims of the artist, who
waved them off and returned to his
hotel. How wretched and somber was
the scene. Rain fell heavily, and the
wind, cold as November, agitated the
sea, hurting back noxious vapors at the
town. Neapolitan malice circumvented
Roger Hale. The boys prepared the
crowd for him.
"See The foreigner comes this way.
He is the wizard, the poisoner, who
brought the pest to Naples. He scat.
ters a powder from his pocket on the
air, in the salt, on our food. He helps
the accursed doctors with his spells"
The idle listened, the turbulent
paused and scowled. As the artist
passed the altar improvised before a
long-concealed strike at San Gennaro,
aud the door of the adjacent pork
hutobar tba lattar opranu ont and saize6
him by the collar.
81 will teach you, wretch, to tamper
with my wares so that nobody will buy
them" sh 0uted the butcher. The artist
believed his hour had come, and the in
luriated man was about to kill him for
some imaginary wrong. To expostulate
would be to add fuel to the flames.
More than once a complete limpness of
demeanor had saved him from serious
disaster. Suddenly the butcher snatched
up the sausage cake on the bsnch, brushed
by the strangers sleeve. thrust the deli
cacy into his hand. and Kissed: "Eat it
or will strangle your
"Willingly," said Roger Hale. "Your
is excellent" The butcher
growled; the crowd watched to see the
foreigner drop dead; girl laughed; an
old woman croaked, "He can eat it, but
another would die"
The mirth changed to groans and cries.
A chorus of female voices expressed a
desire to have the skin of Roger Hale.
Two guards attempted TO force their way
to his rescue. The artist flung the sau-
sage into the butchers face. and with an
agile bound cleared the space behind
the altar, gained the corner and vaulted
into . carriage He was saved. The
of the vehicle made way for
him, too much astonished for words.
"Lord That butcher nearly did for
me-"
"You speak EnglishY" demanded the
new conner. Have you met Roger
Hale at Naplesl"
Rapid ex planation ensued. John Leg
gat has just arrived. The artist learned
of his brothers death with contrihon.
He confessed that he did not ALWAYS read