Reporter and farmer. [volume] (Webster, Day County, Dakota [S.D.]) 188?-1946, 1895-05-23

~ clean. AZ safe. WhT should rhe-E
BE- azy pne5D1lee against ftF Surely IL
IL better ID gige the geznzins Of what
we bored Cor prssezded 10 1re 20
cleansing fire and pure air than lay
them E . cod TaEfr Of stone or down,
dgwn In tie met and eilnETng earth.
For lozthly things are hidden deep in
the EVu5d-rhflgE s0zI and al unnaDe-
abe-30rz wO-Us-siEy creatures
viii blind eyeS and useless w0ngs-
abOrrsons and 6~efCrniries % the insect
tribe born 0e yCEsS Egus v spor-crea-
lures tie very sight Of which w0ul
6raFe y0u- ~ delicate w0r-sr, into q ~
Of hyk.s-is- AID woui provoke eTeo
yOI - strong rHaE, 20 q khUdder Of
repulssOn But there In g worse thing
tkaa these merely physical horrors
Which come Of Sc-4zi8ed Christian bur
kai-thzr Is, 1hs terrible uncertainty.
What IL after we have lowered the
narrow strong box containing cur
dear deceased relation into it's vault
" hollow In the gT0uDd-whzr. If al
ter we hare worn q seeDly garb OF
O and tortured our faces into the
fitting expression Of gentle and patient
r1elancholy-what, / SAP, IL after all
the reasonable precaution 10 inquire
safety, they would actually prove in
SUFFICIENT What-If the prison TO
which we have consigned the deeply
regretted one should not have such
close doors as we f0ndly imagined?
What IL the stout coffin should be
wrenched apart by fierce and frenzied
fBgersi What. IL our late dear friend
should not be dead, but should, like
Lazarus Of old, come forth 4 challenge
our affection apew7 Should we not
grieye sorely that we had failed To
ayaIl ourselves % she secure and cias-
steal method Of c~renaationI Especially
IL we had benefited by worldly goods
or money left to US by the 30 deserved
~ hmented. For we are ~self-deceiving
hypOcrites-few OF Us are really sorry
for the dead-few Of us remember
them with any real tenderness Dr. af-
fectiOn. And yet God knows! they
may need more pity than we dream OF.
But Iet me to my task. i, Fabio Ro-
mani, lately deceased am about TO
chronicle the events OF one short year
"a year In which IA compressed the
agony OF a long and tortured lifetime.
One little year,-one sharp thrust from
the dagger Of time! II pierced my heart
the wound still gapes and bieeds.
and every drop of blood Is tainted as n
falls!
One suffering common TO many, /
have never known, that is-poverty. /
was born rich. When my father,
Count Fillppo Romani, died, leaving
me. then a Lad OF seventeen, sole heir
to his enormous possessions sole head
Of his powerful h~ouse-tbere were
mauy candid friends who, with their
usual Kindness, prophesied the worst
things OF my future. Nay, there were
even some who looked forward to my
physical and mental destruction with a
certain degree OF malignant expecta-
ton and-thcy were estimable persons
too. They were respectfully connected,
their words carried weight-and for a
time was ar object OF their malicious
ly pious fears. l was destined, ac-
cording TO their calculations, TO be a
gambler, a spendthrift, a drunkard, an
incurable roue, OF the most abandoned
character. Yet, strange TO say, I be-
came none Of these. Though a Neapo-
Titan, with all the fiery passions and
hot blood OF my race, i had an innate
scorn for the contemplate vices and
low desires OF the unthiBking vulgar.
Gambling seemed TO me a delirious
folly-drink, a destroyer of health and
~reason-and iicentious extravaganza
an outrage on the poor. i chose my
w way Of life-a middle course be-
tween simplicity and luxury-a judi
ciousm ingling Of home-like peace with
the gaity of sympathetic Intercourse
nm even tenor of intelligent existence
which neither exhausted the mind nor
injured the body.
Idwelt In my fathers Villa NINA
ture palace OF white marble, situated
on n wooded height overlooking the
Bay OF Naples. My pleasure grounds
were fringed with fragrant groves of
orange and myrtle, where hundreds OF
full-voiced nightingales warbled their
love melodies to the golden moon.
Sparkling fountains rose and fell in
huge stone basins carved with many a
quaint design, and their cool murmur-
ous splash refreshed the burning ST.
lence OF the hottest summer air. In
this retreat / lived Mt peace for some
happy years, surrounded by books and
pictures, and visited frequently by
frlends-young men whose tastes were
more OF less like my own, and who
were capable OF equally approaching
the merits Of an antique volume, or the
flavor OF a rare vintage.
or women / saw little or nothing.
Truth to tell, instinctiveiy avoided
them. Parents with manageable
daughters invited me frequently to
their houses, but these invitations I
generally refused. My best books
warned me against feminine society
and believed and accepted the warn
ing. This tendency OF mine exposed
ME to the ridicule Of those among my
companions who were amorously In
clined. but their gay jests at what they
termed my weakness" never affected
me. / trusted In friendship rather
than love. and had a friend-one for
whom at that time would gladly have
laid down my life--one who inspired
me with the most profound attach
ment. He. Guido Ferrari, also Joined
occasionally with others In the good