Pierre weekly free press. (Pierre, S.D.) 1889-19??, 1895-06-13

gave him the appearance of
one who had long wandered in a
labyrinth of friyhtful visions from
which there WAS no escape but self
murder.
Your hand, my SOM" resumed the
king. i'll tone of soldier-likc au-
thority.
Very slowly-vcry rcluctantly-;ls
as though he were forced to the action
by some strange magnetic influence
which lie had no power to withstand.
he looscned his right arm from the
dead form it claspcd so pertinuciously
and stretched forth the hand as COM
manded. Iiumbert caught it firmly
within his own and held it fast: then
looking the poor fellow full in the face
he SAID with grave steadiucss and
simplicity:
There is no death in love. my
fricnd!'
The young mans eyes met his-his
set mouth softencd-nnd wrestling his
hand Eissionatcly from that of tx.
king. he broke into a passion of Weep
ing. Humbcrt at once placed Il pro
tccting arm around him. and with the
assistance of one of his attendants
raised him from the bed and led him
YIN ..'''>'iiSiA '"d!, us IaSSlNplV
obcdient as Il child. though sobbn.
convulsivcly as he went. The rush of
tears had saved his reason and most
probably his life. a murmur of en-
thusiastic applause greeted the king
as he passed through the little ihrong
OF persons WHO had witnessed wlG,r
had taken place. Acknowledging il
with IL quiet. unaffected bow. lie left
~ Si,r a..
morti who Still waited outside that
they were now free to perforlv their
melancholy otiioB. l[Ic Then went on
his way attended by more heartfelt
blessings and praises than ever fell
to the lot of the proudrst conuucror
returning with the spells of II hundred
battles. looked after his rctreating
figure till could see it no mcse felt
that had grown stronger for the
mere presence of hcro-a man who
indeed WAS every inch Il king"
am IL roNaliSt--yes. Governed by such
Il sovereign. few men of calm reason
would be otherwise. But royalst
though am. ] would assist in bring
ing about the dethroncmcnt and death
of mean tylant. were he crowned
king Il hundred times over! Few mon
alchS are like Ilnmbert of Italy. Even
now my heart warns when think of
him; in all the distraction of my suf-
fcringS. his figure stands out like n
supreme embodied Benclicent Force
surrounded by clear light OF unset
fish gcodncss-a light in which Italia
suns her fair face and smiles again
With tho old sweet smile of her happi-
est days of high achievemcnt-,.nyS i'm
which her children We're great. simply
because they were earnest. The fault
of all modern labor lies in the fact
tllat there is no heart in anything we
do: we seldom love our work for
works Slke--we perform il solely for
what we can get by it. Therein lies
the secret of failure. Friends will
scarcely serve each other unless they
can also serve II cir own interests:
true. there are exceptions TO this rule.
but they are deemed fools for their
pains.
AS soon as the king disappeared
also left the scene oil the foregoing in
cident. had fancy to visit the
little restaurant where had been
taken i'll, and after some trouble /
found it, The door stood open. saw
the fat landlord. Pietro, polishing ms
glasses as though he had never left
OFF: and there III the same corner was
the very wooden bench on which |
had lain-wllcre had. as was ycncr-
ally supposed. died. l stepped in.
The landlord looked up and babe me
good-day. returned his snlutntion.
and ordered some coffee and rolls of
bread. Seating myself carelessly mt
one OF the little tables | turned over
the newspaper. while lie hustled about
in haste to serve me. AS he busted
and rubbed up a cup and saucer for
my use he said briskly:
You have had IL long voyage.
AMIGO? And successful fishing:"
For a moment | was confused and
knew not what to answer. but gather
ing my wits together | smiled and an
swered readily in the affirmative:
And YOU. l said gaily. How goes
the cllolel:l?"
The landlord shook his head dole
fully.
"IIoly Joseph. do not speak of it.
The people die like flies in a honey
pot. Only yester,lay-body of Sac
chus--who would have thought it?'
And he sighed deeply as he poured
out the stcaming coffee and shook his
head more Sorrowfully than before.
WY, Will litl pcneu veStcrlay!
l asked. though l knew POI fectly well
what he was going to say. 81 am a
stranger i'll Naples, and empty of
news"
The pcrspiring Pictro. laid fat
thumb on the marble top Of the table.
and with it traced pattern mcdita-
lively.
You never heard of tha rich Count
Romani?" he inquired.
made a sign in the negative, and
bent my face over my coffee cup.
"Al, Well" he went on with a half
groan. sit does not mattcr-tllere is no
Count Romani any more. 1t is all
gonc--finishcd! But he was rich--aS
rich as the king, they say-you see
how low the saints brought him? Fra
Cipriano of the Ecredictines carried
him in here yesterday morning-he
was struck by the plague; in five
hours lie was dend,"-here the land
lord caught n mosquito, and killed it.
cas- dead as that ZanZnra! Yes, lie,
lay dead on that very wooden bench
opposite to you. They buried him be-
fore sunset. 1t is like Il bad lre,,m!"