Frostburg mining journal. [volume] (Frostburg, Md.) 1871-1913, 1895-08-31
THE ICONOCLAST.

Young Mr. Broughton was, unawares
and gradually, in process of evolution
from the journalist to the newspaper
man. 1t took all sorts of rubs and sur
prises and facers and disillusions to form
him. That morning he was hurrying
through Printing House square on an
assignment, when he noticed before him
q woman carrying on her head tray of
plaster images and walking with the
stately gait and even poise of the south
Italian. She was small, brown. She
wore gown of blue cotton, woolen
shawl, plaided in olive and yellow, and
a red kerchief on her head. These glar-
ing colors, however, made her Il picture.
To observe her Broughton passed by her
and then looked back.
She regarded him calmly. Buy
lit San Samuelo says-a his grafton,
signor!"
Broughton had no particular use for
praying Samuel, but he had various the
ories about our adopted citizens and
might have acquired something i'll the
plaster cast line if at that moment
broad shouldered fellow had not come
and jostled the little woman so roughly
and went running to the sidewalk 1t
was the end of the world for that popu-
lation of craven images. They fell in
heap of indistinguishable fragments,
mingling their dust in complete de-
mocracy of saints, politicians, lambs,
the three graces, and even q model of
beautiful foot labeled Trilby. Little
Samuel was past praying for, but he was
no more thoroughly pulverized than the
bust of Napoleon. Young Mr.. Brough-
ton felt stirring within him an essay on
the frailty of mundane things. Then the
air was torn with the lamentations of
the woman
80 Madonnal" Next she denounced
the cause of the disaster, who was NOV
ing away. "Head of big, you area!
Why-a you hit-a me? What ever done
at youa? You breaka my image-I not
eat-a more!' she ratified her finger nails
along her front teeth to indicate the
hunger which would be the consequence
of the breaking of her stock in trade.
Meanwhile two bootblacks had seized
the man by the elbows, and turning him
around ran him back face to face with
the woman. She stood wringing her
hands and wailing. "What ruin! Poor-a
me!''
The aggressor was evidently also an
Italian.
Soy! one of the bootblacks said.
"Youse has gotter reach down inter yer
clothes an square up wild de dago loidy."
"He's bloomin dago hisself," COM
mented the other boy.
Broughton had been painfully COM
posing few phrases of such colloquial
Italian as his Harvard studies of Dante
had rendered possible to him, and now
uttered them in stiff and toneless ac-
cent In effect, he said that it was nee
essary to pay the compatriot for that
which was broken.
81 only got a ten cent-a, signor, said
the offender, handing the coin to the
woman. He was permitted to go in
peace.
"Ten- "a cent Madonna mial For SO
mooch image!" sobbed she.
So Broughton put 81 into his own hat
and passed it around among the throng
that had been attracted by the noise.
When he gave the collection to the wom-
an, she wiped her eyes, kissed his hands
with many benedictions, and went her
way.
Broughton's assignment had taken
him in the direction of Mulberry bend.
AS he returned through that quarter he
saw a hundred yards in front of him q
woman with a tray Of images on her
head. He quickened his pace and soon
was near her. It was the same italian /;
she had replenished her tray with more
saints and heroes and graces. $50 it is, I"
mused young Mr.. Broughton-whos still
trailed clouds of the glory of journalism
THAT i'll this world no one is indis-
pensable One perishes, another replaces
him !''
Just then, staggering around a cor
ner, appeared the former breaker of
images, and again, as if ON purpose, he
swung his arm rudely against the wom-