The Arkansaw traveler., 1888-02-18

dII, lIOIu GuR lduu Juluk ulubC nave got my common sense and the capac- ity of keeping the money which make, also certain natural coldness of disposition, which those who only know me as a public character do not dream of All my earliest memories are very vague and indistinct. re- member tramping over France and Italy with a man and woman-they were Italian, believe-who beat me, and fiddle, which I loved passion ately, and which l cannot remember ever having been without. They are very shadowy presences now, and the name of the man I have forgotten. The woman, think, was called Mad dalena. l do not suppose they were related to me ill any way-anyhow, I hated them bitterly, and eventually, after worse beating than usual, ran away from them. I never cared for any one except my fiddle until knew Ninette. qey s,..-
 was very hungry and miserable indeed when that rencontre came about. I wonder sometimes what would have happened if Ninette had not come to the rescue at this partic- ular juncture. Would some other salvation have appeared, or would well, well, if one once begins wonder ing what would have happened if cer- tain accidents in ones life had not be- fallen one when they did, where will one come to a stop? Anyhow, when l had escaped from my taskmasters, a wretched, puny child of ten, under sized and shivering, clasping a cheap fiddle in my arms, lost in the huge labyrinth of Paris, without sou in my rags to save me from starvation 1 did meet Ninette, and that, after all, is the main point.
 It was at the close of my first day of independence, wretched Novem- Der evening, very much like ttis one. l had wandered about all day, but my efforts had not been rewarded with a single coin. My fiddle was old and warped, and injured by the rain; it's whining was even more repugnant to my own sensitive ear than to the cas- ual passerby. l was in despair. How l hated all the few well-dressed, well-to-do people who were out on the boulevard on that inclement night. l wandered up and down, hoping against hope, until I was too tired to stand, and then I crawled under the shelter of covered passage and flung myself down on the ground, to die, as l hoped, crying bitterly.
 The alley was dark and narrow, and did not see at first that it had an- other occupant. Presently hand was put out and touched me on the shoul- der.
 l started up in terror, though the touch was soft and need not have alarmed me. found it came from a little girl, for she was really about my own age, though then she seemed to me very big and protecting. But she was tall and strong for her age, and l, as have said, was weak and undersized.
 "Chut! little boy" said Ninette "what are you criying for?"
 And l told her my story, as clear as l could through my sobs, and soon a pair of small arms were thrown round my neck and a smooth face laid against my wet one caressingly, and l felt as if half my troubles were over.
 "Don't cry, little boy" said Ninette :. grandly: tT will take care of you. If you like, you shall live with me. We will make menage together What is your profession?"
 l showed her my fiddle, and the sight of it's condition caused fresh tears to flow.
 "Ah!" she said, with smile of ap- proval, "a violinist-good! l too, am an artiste. You ask my instrument La coild!"
 And she pointed to an object on the ground beside her, which had at first taken to be big box, and dimly hoped might contain eatables. My respect for my new friend suffered a little diminution. Already I felt in- stinctively that to play the fiddle, even though it is an old, a poor one is something above a mere organ grinder.
 But I did not express this feeling was not this little girl going to take me home with her? Would not she doubtless, give me something to eat! | My first impulse was an artistic one; that was of Italy. The conceal ment of it was due to the English side of me-the practical side.
 crept close to the little girl; she drew me to her protectingly.
 "What is thy name, p'tit?" she said
 "Anton," answered, for that was what the woman Maddalena had called me. Her husband, if he was her husband, never gave me any title except. when he was abusing me, and then my names were many and un- mentionable. Nowadays I am the Baron Antonio Antonelli, ot the Le- ls-t1 x<EI l. H.