The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1894-02-25


comprising his faithful wife, his son,
Master Weighton Stipples, destined for
the ministry without consultation with
the latter, his two daughters, Venetia
and Olive and their maid Rose-safely
within the huge omnibus gondola which
was to convey them to their lodgings,
midway between the Rio and St. Mark S
on the Grand canal, he sat down beside
his wife, who had limp way of closing
her eyes and opening her viniagrette in
the face of unusual incidents of travel,
as sternly as a mute parlor clock.
ssMy dream is at last realized" sighed
Venetia Stipples, crossing her hands and
rolling her eyes in sentimental exaltation.
'sOh, bother your dream" replied
Olive Stipples, with a mingled snort and
giggle my! Those gondoliers' tees
spread just like andiron claws. Sis, just
look Ones making eyes at you, as sure's
I'm aliven'
INJURED VeneJia. Don't mind it, Olive
dear Think of the rapture of this balmy
air, this Zephrus breeze, these hyaline
waters, this tender, melting sky, these
STORED associations. To think / am at
last in Venice-Brlde of the Sea! oh, L
Just can't find words for utteranceW
Don't try;" said Olive with another
spiteful little giggle, cut short by the
lurching of the gondola, terminating her
laughter in pretty OUGHT" while Mas
ter Burr Weighton Stipples glowered as
though no hap or scene should be permitted
10 take his luminous intellect unawares ;
Mrs. Stipples groaned softly and pressed
the viniagrette more closely to her red
deuing nose; Mr.. Stipples compressed his
lips more tightly; Rose gave timid little
cTlU II Ilpnn1G
and Dennis Mccain, ever ready for war
upon the male Italian of any age or sta
ton, half rising and introducing his pug
nacious intentions with, BY tn hve
Grasses !" began sundry violent head
jerkings at the grinning gondoliers, which
would have been followed by more than
menace had not MIR. Stipples at that mo-
ment roared out:
'.McCann set down."
81 set. sor;" returned Dennis nimbly
but holly, 'thlt if had thin two dagos on
land, fur tn wink o. me eye, sor, I'd
tache them a chune not Vaynayshun,
aythur!"
''Oh, Lord, yes so you would. Behave
yourself, or I'll discharge you this min
ute!'
''Divil hap'orth I'd be carin' thin, no.
tice an wages an all, if had it fair out
wild tn shamers they are. Hoo! ye
molaSseS- skinned mayhem
"Mirandy, Mirandy! groaned Mr.
Stipples TO his apparently somnolent wife,
that fellow'll git us all in some Internal
dungeon yit At Bolony, he sassed the
urch-keeper and got yanked in. Tween
tv-five dollars for that scrape. AT Parry
the gensdarmy didn't suit him. COUNSEL
general and forty dollars there. At
Gibraltar the sunset salute shot all
the clothes often him. $40 more there.
81. 4
pus and racket and buyin' him out the
clutches of one-hoss guv'ments; and here
.ve are, not fairly inside them pesky Ven
nus bitches, another row on, and all of US
likely to get stabbed with stilletters or
Shit with daggers afore we kin get under
shelter. If this is doin' Urup with vally,
then Dennis McCann's dom the doin
and Saltwater Stipples dom the vally.
Fudge on Urup ennyhow! Wish we wus
to hum !"
'EOh, Saltwater" plaintively re-
turned poor little Mrs. Stipples, do re-
member we're finishing Burr and the
girlsl"
".Finishin'p I should think So
They're finishin' us, Mirandy. l didn't
need any finishin' TO make my money
You didn't need any inishin' to git your
goodness. Rose didn't need any finishin'
to tend to her work. Dennis didn't
need Any fnishin' to drive my best
coal wagon on the East Side, New York
city. Vene got too much finishin' at Vas
sar. And that boy of ours ought to be
shovelin' coal, stead Of studyin' for the
ministry"
Don't Saltwater; don t."
"That there Olive of ours and me and
you, Mirandy, and Rose, and she's Irish.
are the only ont and out. up and up, all
round Americans in the huh lott"
Oh, Saltwater! Do think of New
York society,""
Il am thinkin' of it," he retorted, CIV
ing the gondola fOndo a vicious lab with
his heels, "and hateit, bag and baggage
No comfort in it. Lord I'd give half Pm
worth TO never seen it; and if this
Eieh art moonin'," here Mr.. Stippes
stole furtive glance at Nenetia, lost in
her gentle rapJures and rhapsodies,
land these theology cantrips," here he
scowled at Master Burr Weighton Slip
pies, who sat cutching his kodak and
moody lunching of his cane land this
coal-cart vany business don't let up
pretty soon, Ill-I'n put Veneta in a
nunnery, Burr in asylum, pitch Dennis
Mccain into Venus ditch. and start
for hum-By thunder, if l dontw
1t was with such mingled and diverse
emotions that the Stipples family and
their attendants glided with the yellow
Gcif . VI bilG d1bCIlOOu lld!lGu sun along
the Grand Canal, coming at last to one of
those decaying palaces whose sepulchral
interiors, separated into damp and mourn
full apartments, are leased at fabulous
prices to adventurous tourists, while their
decaying nOblemen owners are struggling
with the problems of Italian taxation,
cocoons and sour wine between the great
Venetian plain and the misty Alps beyond.
An imposing house it had been in its
day, with huge columns, wondrously
carved spandres and vOlutes, with bal
comics filmy as lace but now like dirty
fiecks Of foam across its dlngy facade ;
with massive crumbling stairs leading
from the water edge to the shadowy en-
trance, forest like in multifoils of dingy
marble and handwrought iron and brass,
in ancient torch holders of bellying Gu
pids, strange screens with emaciated
satyrs and much other dead-age demonol-
ogy peering from bronze and brass and
stone.
But there was a true Venetian welcome
awaiting them at Casa PatriOe. A half
dozen ancient gransieri, those crab
catchers' Of Venice, who scent ones COM
inc from afar and, boat hooks in hand.
wait with extended palms and hideous
smiles to draw your craft TO the traghetto
or gondola landing, and fight like beasts
for the coppers you ling to them, were
bechoning and grimacing on the stairs
A score Of pOverini or GodfOrsakens, Of
all ages and conditions, ucked their heads