Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1897-06-03

a drunkard, an incurable roue, of the
most abandoned character. Yet,
strange to say, became none of these
things. Though a Neapolitan, with
all the fiery passions and hot blood OF
my race, I had an innate sccrn for the
contemplate vices and low desires
of the unthinking vulgar. Gambling
seemed to me delirious folly-drink,
destroyer of health and reason
and licentious extravaganza an out
rage on the poor. l chose my own way
F.! of life-a middle course between sim
plicity and luXury-a judicious ming
ling OF nJme-like peace vita the gayety
OF sympathetic social intercourse-an
even tenor of intelligent existence
which neither exhausted the mind nor
! Injured the body.
l dwelt in my fathers villa-a min
lature palace of white marble, situated
on 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 muir
muTOus splash refreshed the burning
silence of the hottest summer air. In
this retreat | lived at peace for some
happy years, surrounded by books and
pictures, and visited frequently by
| friends-young men whose tastes were
mere or less like my own, and who
were capable of equally approaching
the merits OF an antique volume, or
the flavor Of rare vintage.
Of women l saw little or nothing.
Truth to tell, instinctively avoided
them. Parents with marriageabIe
daughters invited me frequently to
their house, but these invitations I
generally refused. My best books
warned me against feminine society
and | believed and accepted the warn
irg, This tendency of mine exposed
me to the ridicule of those among nv
companions whe were amorously in
cllned, but their gay jests at what they
termed my weakness never affected
me. l trusted in friendship rather
than love, and had a friend-one
for WECm at that time | would gladly
have laid down my life-one who in
spl1ed me with the most profound at
tachm ent. He, Guido Ferrari. also
joined occasionally with others in the
gCcd-natured mOckery l brought down
IL q myself by my shrinking dislike
of women
Fly on thee, Fabioi' he would cry.
- hCu wilt not taste life till thou hast
- &c the nectar from a pair of rose
'1f, irS-thOu shalt not guess the rid
Gle OF the stars tilt thou hast gazHd
deep down into the fathomless glory
of maiden's eyes-thou canst not
know delight till thou hast clasped
eager arms round a coy waist and
heard the beating of a passionate
heart against thine own! A truce to
thy musty volumes! Believe it, those
ancient and sorroWful PHILOSOPHERS
had no mankind in them-their blood
was water-and their ISLANDERS against
women were but the pettish utterances
OF their own deserved disappoint-
ments. Those who miss the chief prize
of life would fain persuade others
that it is not worth having. What.
man! Thou, with a ready wit, a glanc-
ing eye, gay smile, a supple form.
thou wilt not enter the lists of love?
What says Voltaire of the blind god?
'Qui que tn sois VOLTA ton maitre,
II full est-ou il doit etre!'"
When my friend spoke thus I smiled
but answered nothing. His argu-
ments failed to convince me. Yet I
loved to hear him talk-his voice was
mellow as the note of a thrush, and
his eyes had an eloquence greater than
all speech. I loved him-God knows!
unselfishly, sincerely-with that rare
tenderness sometimes felt by school
boys for one another, but seldom ex-
perlenced by grown men. l was happy
in his society, as he, indeed, appeared
to be in mine. We passed most of
out time together, he, like myself, hay-
lL2 been bereaved of his parents in
early youth, and therefore left to
suited his particular fancy. He chose
art as profession. and, though a
fairly successful painter, was as poor
as | was rich. | remedied this NEGLECT
.of fortune for him in various WAYS
with due forethOught and delicacy-
and gave him as many commissions as
| possibly could without rousing his
suspicious or wounding his pride. For
lie possessed a strong attraction for me
we had much the same tastes. we
shared the same sympathies, in short.
| desired nothing better than his con-
fidence and companionship.
In this world no one, however harm
less, is allowed to continue happy.
t'ate-or caprice-cannot endure to
see US mOnotOnouSly at rest. Some
! thing perfectly trivial-a look, a word.
a touch, and 10! long chain of old
associations is broken asunder, and the
peace we deemed so deep and lasting
/ is finally interrupted This change
came to me, as surely as it comes to
! all. One day-how we'll I remember
| it!-One sultry evening toward the end
of May, 1881, I was in Naples 1 had
passed the afternoon in my yacht,
idly and slowly sailing over the bay.
availing myself of what little wind
there was. Guides absence Che had
gone to Rome on a.yisit of some weeks
duration) rendered me somewhat of a
solitary, and as my light craft ran in
to harbor, I found myself in pensive,
talf-uncertain mood, which brought
| with it its own denression- The few