The DeLamar nugget. [volume] (DeLamar, Idaho) 1891-1900, 1896-04-25
In A PRIVATE BOX.

confined &c chats across the checitered
board. 1 was an enthusiastic the game.
while he, though a much stronger
player, seemed to Use chess as a solace
for some trouble, or to divert his mind
from unpleasant thoughts. OF this
was convinced.
Many months passed before ] even
knew his name, which / at last discoy-
cred to be Francesca Astarita. He was
q decidedly good-lool1ing Italian, about
80 wears OF age, but his features already
bore lines of care or ahlicticn. ] never
could tell which. always found him
very variable in manner Sometimes
he would be almost affable, at others
silent and morose, but there was al
ways dash of melancholy in his con
versation.
we met only at night ond I gathered
that he held some mercantile appoint
ment in the city. He spoke almost
perfect English.
Will you have n gane?" I said, one
evening, as 1 took a seat opposite to
him at one of the marble-topped tables.
81 should like to try that variation in
the Ruy Lopez again"
mo. thank you he replied, grufily.
81 am just going"
"You are not feeling unwell, I hope?"
He certainly looked very pale and
careworn, but he gave no answer. A
sickly smile, half sneer, stole over his
face.
A few minutes later he rose, put on
his hat, and, with 2 curt Goodnight"
strobe toward the door. Then he sud-
denly stopped, came back, and said:
81 am going to fhe Joility. Do you
care to come? I have taken a private
box-quite alone"
Music halls, even when called thea
ters or varieties, were not much to my
taste, but was disappointed of my
chess, for there was no other person
present with whom cared TO play,
and, at any rate, I could come away
from the Jollity when 1 wos tired.
So l accepted his invitation, ard we
strolled along the street together. Ee
was unusually silent, and as l failed in
several attempts to get him into con-
versation, I at length fell back on my
own thoughts.
What could induce a man of his
temperament to go to q music hall
especially in such q particularly I'M
sociaMe mood? Could it be possible
that The entertainment would take his
mind off his troubles? Tha. he had
troubles, and serious ones, could not
for u moment doubt. But what most
astonished me was to find him in
dulging in the luxury of a private box,
for | was sure that he was u man OF
slender means. The ticket might have
been given to him, but he had distinct
ly said that he had ''taken it. which
meant "hired it."
The bright and brilliantly decorated
house was already crowded in many
parts when we took our seats and the
entertainment had begun. a girl in an
idealized male attire was singing 4 song |
with a rollicl1ing chorus, AMI youths
were grinning with enjoyment at the |
same old jokes that their fathers and |
grandfathers had relished in days gone |
by.
Astarita looked horribly bored. BE
sat at the back of the box in silence.
Suddenly he pulled his chair nearer to
mine and became communicative.
''You can't understand me, he said.
-'You think am not happy. Well, l
am not. And do you suppose this pro-
granme is likely to cheer me? Come
back out of that noise. will tell you
a story-n true story-a page out of
my own life"
The audience was applauding, and
[ moved my chair into the interior of
the box.
''My father was an Italian ="
so | should judge by youc name"
1 interrupted.
Eyes; but he died when 1 was very
young, and my mother was English.
My home was at Naples. When was
a lad [ went into the Office of large
firm of fruit merchants there. stuck
hard at my work for some years, and |
was doing very well. Then ] met the
only woman / ever loved-I must have
been about 25-and the ouly woman
believed to be worthy of my devotion.
All, those were happy days!"
Astarita paused in his story and
seemed to be dwelling on memories of
the past.
What was 1 saying?' he suddenly
began again. "Ah, yes, | remember.
Angela knew of my love and returned
it. There was not a SHADOW on our
an English scoundrel, r
called Herbert Ross, appeared on the
scene. l never knew what brought
him to Naples, but he came, and while
there, in an evil hour, met her-my
sweet Angela. I
"That man, sir, had what the world
calls winning manner He could talk e
we'll, played the violin, and wasan anna
5eur conjurer and ventriloquist. The !
world loves q mountebank, and there
g No,-1ac tao1.r