Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1891-10-31
GIOVANNI and THE OTHER.
By FRANCES H0DasoH BURNETT,
Aathm Il little Land Fsmtlasy!s
Copyrighted, 1851. BY the sutAor.l
CHAPTER I.

owes, ana roses ana nenotropee grew In
tumbling masses over the stone. 1t was on an
elevation, and below it one could see the prom
enade by the sea and the great lake-like sapphire
blue expanse of the Mediterranean.
There were palm trees and flowers bordering
the promenade, and even in the winter there
were numbers Of children walking about with
baskets full of violets and narcissus and ane-
mones, which they ran after the pedestrians
with in the hope of selling.
The sun seemed always shining and the air
soft there, and there were always flowers, for
the little town was pretty, quaint one on the
Riviera. 1t was called San Reno, and in the
winter was always full of foreigners who came
to see the sun when it seemed finally to have
left England or to escape from wind and cold
when they were delicate.
Most of them-the forestieri-were more or
less delicate. Some of them had thin, pale
faces and coughed and walked slowly; some
of them we're pulled about in invalid chairs,
and often one saw one in deep mourning, and
might guess either that some one belonging to
them had come to the south to get well and
bad died in the midst Of the flowers and palms
and orange trees, or, having lost some one
they loved in some other place, had come to try
to bear the shock OF their grief in the land
where the sunshine might help them a little.
But whatever had happened to bring them,
whether they were well or i'll, or burdened
with sorrow. they were pleased with two things.
They were always pleased with the flowers, and
carried them about in bunches and if any one
played the guitar and mandolin and sang well
they were pleased and gave money to the play
ers and singers.
SO there were many flower sellers in the
streets and many flower shops in the town,
and there were many people who wandered
about with mandolins aud guitars playing be-
fore the hotels, aud generally having with them
some one who could either sing sweetly or who
tried to. In the latter case sometimes they got
money to induce them to 60 away-to the mex
hotel, at least.
Giovanni was one of those who, fortunately,
could sing, and q man went with him who
played the harp.
He was an Italian boy about fourteen years
old He was strong and plump and well built
and had darked-eyed, merry, pretty face and
a gay, bright smile. 1t was rather a lovable
face, and when money was thrown to him from
the balconies and he ran and picked it up, pull
ing off his cap and saving: Giraffe, Signora,"
or ''Signorina" or ''Signore," as the case might
be, his quick little bow was often returned by a
nod.
They had SO much money, these forestieri,
Giovanni thought they might we'll be good
natured. Think what lives they must have
these people who We're rich enough to travel
away from unpleasant weather and who lived
in the great gay hotels, eating wonderful things
three times day, waited upon by dozens of
servants and with an imposing concierge in
uniform and gold buttons, who appeared on
the broad white marble hower-bordered en-
trance steps and calling up a waiting carriage
with a majestic wave OF the hand and loud
"Avante,' carried out to it wraps and cushions
and held the door open while the signoras en-
tered, touching his goid-banded cap gracefully
they drove away. All. what Life it must
be, to be sure.
But though he was only little peasant
Giovanni knew that fortune had not been so
1Yl ind s.,h frar IIa had l,,a 4
had had luck with it ever since the man with
the harp had proposed that he should go and
sing with him before the hotels and villas.
Giovanni had share of the money. and he
was comfortably fed and given warm clothes,
even to the extent of having a scarf to wrap
around his throat on chilly nights for fear he
should catch cold and become hoarse. The
man with the harp knew he was worth some
thing.
He had full, sweet strong voice, and he
sang his songs OF the people with a melodious
freshness. He had little repertoire of his
own, and was not reduced to singing santa
Lucia" as often as many OF the street trouba-
dours. There was little song OF a reproachful
lover who rather embarrassingly recalls the
past to his unkind fair one. ''When / am far
away" he says, ''you will remember the kisses
you have given me-yes, you will remember
them, DC.
And Giovanni used to stand with his hands on
his hips and pour forth these repeoaches in his
clear, full boyish voice, looking SO happy and
young and content that it was very charming
And then there was Ale Carolie' and the
Ritirata, and the gayest one OF ALL q rafting
little one about tine Bersagliere-the dashing
sharpshooters who went double quick"
through lie in their picturesque cfoaks and
broad-brimmed hats on one side, with the
great piumes Of cocks feathers sweeping their
shoulders
1.-THE Bersagiiere have feathers on their hats,
he sings in Neapolitan dialect. Here many lit
tie capons and hens have to be destroyed to
provide all this beauty. Love the Bersagliere
love them"they are the saviors OF your coun-
try"-and all SO gayly and with such swing to
the air that one could imagine Bersagliere
hearing him would rush forward and shower
upon him unlimited sOldi.
The morning my story begins was a perfect
one. 1t was in January, but San Reno was
flooded with brilliant sunshine, the Mediter-
ranean was like great sapphire. the air was as
soft as II it had been May. Giovanni was in
joyous humor-but then he usually was-as he
and the man with the harp mounted the long
flight OF stone steps which led into the hotel
garden.
u wonder how much We shall get?' he said
to his companion. The Strand Hotel des
Anglais has not been SO full this month" That
was the name Of the hotel they were going to
sing and play before.
The man with the harp plantedit in good posi-
ton before the long flight OF broad white marble
entrance steps. There were big pots OF palms
and azaleas and Towering plants Of various
sorts on each side of the steps all the way up to
the glass door, which one OF the servants always
stood behind, ready to open.
Giovanni took his usual boyish pose with his
hands on his hips and began to sing. He sang
the song OF the reproachful lover and the Bella
Sarrentina, and in the middle Of the last he
heard o window open This was q sound always
to be noted, because it meant that some one
was coming out onto the balcony to listen and
would probably throw him some money. But
he was artist enough not to look up until his
song was flushed. Even if money was thrown
he did not move until his song was over. Then
he used to run and pick it up, lifting his cap in
recognition.
When he had finished La Belle Sarrentina he
glanced over the front of the hotel. There
were several balconies which belonged to the
larger apartments. to the people who had
suites Of two or three rooms and private salons.
At the end of one Of these q lady was standing
resting her forehead ON her hand a. she looked
down at him.
Giovanni saw that she was one Of the fores-
teri who were in deep mourning. She was all
black but that she had blonde hair which the
morning sun was shining on. There was some-
thing sad and fstigued about her attitude, and
as he looked up she touched her eyes lightly
with the finger OF the hand that shaded them.
With the other hand she made motion to
Giovanni. She held tiny white package in it.
1t was some money folded in q piece of paper
90 that 1t could be easily seen and found where
she threw it
:. Giovanni went aad stood under her balcony