The Cambria freeman. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1867-1938, 1888-11-09
"6ON GARCON. .

There Is little cornerin Southern Ita,y
where Already still fingers. Once was
IN tho habit of spending every spring
there, but shall never go again Yet IL
= To mo tho most beautiful place in the
world
One lands at the Marina and climbs the
hill winding mp, mp, up the long white
high road. which is like shelf along the
edge Of the cliff.
High above ones head hangs the noun
tail, leaning forward stark and grim: be-
low the wall OF the road the ground falls
sheer away to the sea. One sees nothing
but the great shining plain and the threat
ening mountain.
Round and round curves the road he
tween those two silent watching enemies,
till suddenly, without warning, one
roaches the plateau and comes out in n
land OF desire.
1t is only to climb wall and then to
walk onward without let OF hindrancs
through tho wheat fields under the olives.
where the young green wheat blades are
like swords for keenuess. and their color
strikes on the soul Ike n song too sweet
for words, and yet brave withal
And below the wheat on the lower ter
races are the boanfelds, sweat and heavy,
where n man may lie full length on the
short grass OF the thread-lilSe path, feel
winds over tho blossoms, DO conscious OF
nothing bnt the glory OF the wheat. the
hickerinS shades OF the gnarled olives In
the afternoon light, and II he lies still
enough the sound of the nightingale
learning is song.
And yet he may be sick at heart!
As lwho lay there the IivelongAp day,
neither reading nor thinking. nor CRATE
fui To God for His wind and His bean
fields, but with my fingers in my ears to
shut out the sound OF the nightingale
who sang loud, so loud!
For, instead OF the young spring tide,
saw nothing but woman, standing as
first / saw her, dressed In white from
head to foot, with bare arms and shout
ders, n wreath OF brown winter ivy round
her golden head and great garland OF II
on her gown
There she stood and looked me In the
eyes, with n straight grave glance.
Not the lcok she gave men AS n rule,
found that out soon enough, for II ever
there was = woman coquette. seduisante
(uy English i not good st best. it leaves
me always when talk of herr, it was she
-Suzon.
used TO watch her often as she talked
to men with that quick grace she had.
and being used 10 Rnalyzing faces-it is
my profession for that matter I who am
a dOctor-l saw that she, whom most
women hated for her lovers, whom most
men sdored and thought n soft warm
plaything, une, vraie femme, was in real
ity as cold a. u stone image.
IL WAS n very pretty play which went
on around her, with often n change in che
jeune premier, but she did not act in it
herself.
She piped carelessly and all her court
a. tsgatl : he neif hRr
weary.
am not very sure how l came to be so
friendly with her; 1 think she began
/ would net have presumed.
But we fell into a way OF walking ovor
thc hills together and sitting on the cliffs
in the noon days, looking ont over a sea
like che glory OF God for light and color,
talking Of many things sometimes, some
Times quite silent, lying in tho sun; I
with my hat over my eyes, drinking in
the scents Of the spring air, Just seeing
tho splender OF a bush OF yellow broom
standing out against violet sea; she
with her head flung buck on the short
dry grasses, often enough cigarette in
her mouth.
AS the days went by We grew quietly
nearer one another, insensibly, till one
morning 1 asked her something.
Tho fact was, all the place was ringing
with her doingS. The men with whom
she had amused herself for n time, not all
being gentlemen, handled her name in
the cafes without too much courtesy.
Aud the women had always hated her for
her beauty, her toilets, her artistic repu-
tation; young as she was, she had had
mention at the Salon.
So asked her IL it really amused her
sufficiently 10 be worth the price.
She shook her head.
When she was not painting she grew
horribly ennuyee; she must do some
thing. And then is was not all her fault,
she said.
1T is to great extent" 1 told her.
you lead men on horribly mot ne-ce
nest pas In peine-but most men). As
soon as they make love to you they dis
gust you, repel you; you fling them over
none too gently, and, well-enhn, they
talk"
She nodded. fancy she knew quite
well what sort OF reputation she had.
But presently she said with amusement:
80 you do rot care about me-yous'
81 like you so much that / do not like
them TO speak Of you as they do. You
are always bon garcon to me-" cried,
turning sharply on her; why cannot you
translate it literally and be a good boy
alwaysp Drop your coquetry, tzko life
frankly; you would do better"
She did not answer.
The sun was hot, she began to look
tired and said she had work to do, she
must 60 home. thought she did not
like what l had said. But / walked to
her villa with her, and as stood in the
logcia AID bade her good bye, she put her
hand into mine.
And something prompting me, said
very low:
BE good boyr'
She looked me in the face.
II will, she said, as though she were
making a vow.
And she did, know. for I never again
saw in her that light manner which had
nlway. disliked; never heard her talk
Ing to men as ! had heard hor often
enough.
And we were rather more together than
ever. She would not let me treat her as a
woman; indeed, she was the only woman
ever knew who was, a fond, bon gar
con-who knew the meaning OF cam
araderie.
But my relation TO her was getting all
pose. and knew II.
Mon camarsde, mon beau garcon, mon
ami" j said TO her, and in my soul L
called her Ma rose blonde, ma cherie.D
made up my mind to go away; 1t was
al could do. She knew nothing about
my wife, and OF course knew must tell
her.
So ono very windy unpleasant day, as
we were sitting in little sheltered cove
ca the shore, screwed my courage to
the sticking place" and told her must
= To Rome. =, "a
/ had had very tiresome letter and
VAS ont of turs, like the day, and did
cot 'sv ~ n'esly.
-.