The National tribune. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1877-1917, 1895-06-13
NATIONAL TRIBUNE WASHINGTON THURSDAY JUNE

thence had pursued their tramp, stoppip!
several days on the road at Spondelak, Tra!o
| and Franzenhohe.
"We shall stay at Bormio few days ant
rest, and then we shall meet our bags again
You can't think how glad we are TO see thos
bags we quite love the very straps anC
buckles Do You know Bormio at all?'
| avow my ignorance.
Nor do We There was an American
lady we met at Innsbruck who recommended
Nuovi Bagni to u.s. think she thought N
quite mad, but she was extremely kind
| Kitty" she added, suddenly addressing he
companion, do look down here at that leap
ing water that must be the Adda."
| "Oh! our first italian river, Betty How
! jolly " cried the enthusiastic Kate, her gray
| eyes beaming out from under her dripping
| hat-brim.
Then she looked down the valley, and
tried, / think, to realize that this rain
beaten scene really was Italy.
Cheer up, Kitty, it will be fine to-mor-
row, and won't we reYel in the sunshine
when it oomes?"
1t was Betty who spoke The manner ot
the girls toward each other amused me
they seemed to take the role of guide and
counselor IN turns, just as, / have no doubt,
they had taken it i'm turns to carry the ruek-
suck which had now in my care.
Independent though they were, the girls
seemed glad of my companionship, especi-
ally when we passed through one of the
dark, cavernous galleries rooted with stone,
built to protect the road from avalanches.
They chatted in y friendly, unembarrassed
manner, and the sound of the fresh, young
voices and the sight OF the two pretty faces
did much to relieve the dreariness Of the
long, monotonous road.
The next morning was a sumptuous one.
As / looked from my window my eyes were
greeted by sky of startling blueness; the
sun shone on the delicate green of the moss
like acacia trees sparkling with moisture !;
there were roses and oleanders in the gar
den, and snow on the distant tops of the
mountains. The contrast was piquant.
was soon dressed and out of doors. The
hotel garden, with its mountain-ash trees
laden with masses of berries, was fragrant
after the heavy rain. But / soon wearied
of it, and stroIled down into the smiling
valley below the dilapidated village, perched
on the bank of the AIDA. Here the tumble
down houses were pitted with bulletmarks,
the mementoes ofthe old hereditary struggle
with Austria. / stood on the bridge which
spanned the foaming stream, swollen with
yesterdays rain, and watched the water
eddying over its rough and rocky bed. As
] leant against the parapet l caught the
sound OF woman's voice trilliDg out the re-
frain OF an Italian volkslied.
The lark-like joyousness of the song
seemed In harmony with the glorious morn
ing. In dreamy mood / listened. The
singing voice hoated nearer. caught sight
of a white straw sailOr-hat and pink cotton
blouse.
Italian peasant girls do not attire them
selves thus / am trife short-sighted, but,
in a very few moments, was aware that
the early-rising songstress was Miss Kate
Morrison. A glance at the hotel register had
informed me of the names of my fellow
pedestrians.
She looked very pretty and fresh; the
mass of light hair was twisted up
neatly at the back of her head. Clearly the
luggage of the two girls had turned up, for
there were no signs of travel stain about the
trim blue serge skirt and the crisply -starched
pink blouse
/ wished her good morning, and inquired
for her absent friend.
''Oh, Betty is all right, thanks, only rather
sleepy. l thought it a pity to waste one sin
gle hour of this heavenly morning, and l
wanted to make little sketch from the
bridge"
"An artist as we'll as singer ?" in
quired, smiling.
''Oh, you heard me chirruping, / suppose.
One must sing when one feels so utterly
happy. Isn't the air exhilarating? But
must make my sketch. ] can sit on the
parapet-so-and get just the view want"
She perched herself upon the stone ledge
and made an impromptu easel of her knee.
The sun shone on the big knot of curly
brown hair, and made the golden threads in
j shine goriously. The white sailOr-hat
tilted over the forehead made shade for
the darkly-fringed gray eyes and delicate
brOws.
admired Miss Kate immensely, yet 1
caught myself regrettng that Miss Betty
was not such an early riser as her friend.
Nevertheless, seated myself on the oppO-
site parapet and surveyed the pretty artist
with very real satisfaction. There was q
freshness and spontaneity about her that
was very fascinating. She talked about the
grand scenery of the Stelvio; she narrated
with great gee some of the adventures of
their trip-how, at Trafoi, provisions ran
short because band of German students had
ucSCtHdeu On Iile pestCSsti village lihS d hISHI
of locusts, leaving q temporary famine be-
hind them; how they had excited the sus-
picion of the authorities of the fortress above
because she had made n little
sketch of the Suldenthal, and so on. Her
busy pencil did its work with great rapidity,
and, when / asked permission to look at the
sketch, l was really surprised at the master