Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1891-11-14

The other mother felt the wild thing SWELL
ing In her own breast and tearing it. Great
drops rushed up and swept down her face, and
she put out her hand and laid it on the peas
"-know you cannot help it," she said.
They were the tho first simple words that
came to her. Somehow it seemed merely
human that there should be in that moment no
barrier between them. They were not signora
and peasant-foresticri and Italian women of
the People-they we're only two mothers who
had lost the blood of their hearts.
The woman raised her poor face, wet, lined,
desperate.
Their eyes looked into each other.
The other mothers face was wet too. and
suddenly she, too, leaned against the wall
Your boy died." size said. "liine is dead,
Yes" said Lisa, hoarsely, and looking at the
pale face and black draperies. "I have heard
them speak OF you. But you-you are rich
eignora, and he, your son. he wanted nothing"
And she bowed her head again.
"He-he wanted life," whispered the lady in
black, ''and 1 could not give it him. She
pressed her hand on her breast 81 could not
BUY 1t or beg it, or search it on my hands and
knees or work for it like a servant, as il had
never been lady at all. No one could sell it
or give II to memo one in all the great. pow
erful, wonderful world where the wise men
know SO much. had always given him every-
thing-he thought l could give him anything
else-but could not give him that. and he
was - young, and it seemed 30 beautiful to
him,-and he wanted it!' And ehe bowed her
head, too.
it." A -'' NY 0o' uio NOT want
'Try-try to be comforted that he was not
forced to bear it, }" said the other. "But ali
poor man!-God help you'll he did not
He wanted it once" cried the peasant. che
-fxu,
all the voice-the beautiful silver voice that
broke his heart-was false and deserted him
that tricked him and left him to die"
Poor boy! poor boy ~ wept the woman near
ner. And the peasant knew that the tears were
for the young dead she had never seen.
He always sang" she went on. '.When he
was tiny thing with round checks and big.
black eyes-so pretty that the forestieri stared
at him and gave him soldi for his good looks
and his long eyeashes-even then he could
sing He used to 10y and make sounds like the
birds, and If he heard an air in the street he
would try to repeat it and then clasp his little
hands and laugh for pleasure when he had
made 1t right. And l proud of it and
boosted OF him to the neighbors and made him
sing for them. He was like a little bird; he
put his head on one side like one when
he sat on my knee and sang, looking
from under his lashes. They were SO long as
that'-measuring her fingers-''and he had
curls like Gesu Bambino, and soft cheeks and
nSteQ-
ing for music in the air-such as we could not
hear And was proud and let him sing.
ought to have put my hand over his little red
mouth and killed it then-then-that voice of
silver and gold that was such a traitor and a
false friend"
But you loved it and we're happy" said her
nearer. II know. l have one boy left; he
sings"
THE saints give to him that it may not end
In grief" said Lisa. 1--WE poor peasants-poor
enough-when he was old enough to 60 into
the streets. it was fine thing for us that he
could 60 and sing. He was SO handsome and
bis voice was such a wonder that the forestieri
liked him. They gave him money and were
always praising and petting him. There
was no other boy who lived like him.
1t was almost if he had been a
real signorino, though he lived here in the
Cltta Vecchla. If he did not sing one dav be-
fore hotel or villa the next time they would
ask why he had not come. If he had been
only like other boys and cared for nothing
but the praise and the money it would
have been all right. But he was not like
that He had strange feelings about his music
and he was always finding something to read
about singing and great singers. 1 loved him
and he loved me, and 1 listened with all NV
heart when he talked. but l did not quite |
understand He knew did not, but still hes
loved me, and always told his thoughts to me- |
He loved his voice; it was his treasure, and he |
wanted his life to be all music. He was willing |
to work all day and ali night if he nigh. sing
well in the end. And they told him-the |
forestieri who knew about voices. and Maestro |
Mecneri-that ne might some day be great
"He might have been" said the listener.
xeS,t4now that is true. He might have
been-and-" She hesitated a moment
with parted lips-a strange light of thought
though she did not finish
HE used to come here and lean against the |
wall at sunset" said Lisa. He would look |
out over the sea to the Madonna della Guarda. |
and 1t would seem as if he were in a dream |
W hen he came in to eat il would seem as If he |
had just wakered with a smile on his lips 1t |
was then thnt he was seeing his visions of what |
he would do when he was young man. and the I
whole world loved him because his voice was of |
silver and gOld''
moment. resting her forehead on her hand.
Then she began:
II do not know how it first changed" she |
said. Maestro Mecheri thought that he was |
not really strong. though he looked so-and he |
caught cold and sang when he should not. One |
DAY he came in to me with strange look on his |
lace. He told that he had tried to sing but he |
could not. His voice had sounded as if it were |
the voice of another. He tried to be patient at |
hrst. he waited two days and then went out |
again. But he could not make the right sounds |
1t was like that many times-that he tried to |
90 "hN sun ~ Scehicu W w uOSOOu Maestro
Aecheri said he did not wait long enough and |
perhaps his voice had already began
10 change-or perhaps i. was that his
nalady had even then struck him.
One night when came in 1 found him sitting
alone. His face was white and his forehead
was damp with sweat. He was hoarse when he
poke. He said, L cannot sing, cannot sing
have lost it. l tried to console him, but it
seemed us if he could not hear what was say
ng. He had been to one of the villas where
he people had always praised him and they had
not opened the window or sent him money
And as he had been going away wondering and
leavy hearted. a servant had seen him and said:
Was it You singing? No one knew it was YOU
They thought it was u stranger. 1t did not
sound like your voice. What is wrong?'
After that it seemed as if he grew desperate
N spite of his hoarseness he would try and
ing alone. He would shut himself up and ex-
,rclse his voice. He said that il he worked
steadily it might come back. He began to
cough and became thin and he could not sleep
It night, but he could not give up.
''Once when he exercising heard sud-
ienly that he had stopped and I went quietly
md stole glance ut him through the door.
heavy sobs. dared not speak to him. He
vas my son and he loved me, but there were
lines when he felt he was far beyond me in
ome strange way-and l was only a peasant
woman. But he loved me-he loved me. NV
leart was warm to him and 80 faithful Scusi,
'ignora am telling you a long story"
Tell 1t to me-tell it" said the lady in black
1T will ease your heart to speak. Sometimes