Barbour County index. [volume] (Medicine Lodge, Kan.) 1880-current, 1898-02-09
THE BRONZE
AVENGER !.
BY JANE C. AUSTIN.
'If you would see fair Venice Alright
Go visit it by the June sunlightm
BY JANE c. AUSTIN.


Go visit it by the June sunlight"
Exclaimed Lionel Lee, standing in |
the Piazza of San Marco, and admir-
ing the graceful architecture, and |
soft, warm tints of the buildings sur
rounding it, the deep Italian sky, the |
glimpse of the blue water seen be-
tween the famous stone pillars at the
foot of the Piazetta, the brilliant
crowd of chattering, gesticulating
contadini who thronged the Square,
celebrating the feast-day of some one
of the myriad saints in whose honor
the Italian peasant makes holiday of
half his life. Oftener than all else,
however, the young American turned
to look at the face of his pretty bride
lighted with the fervent enjoyment of
a young girl who takes her first
glimpse of the world by the man she
loves. Just now, however, she is pout-
ing, as she exc1aims:
Shame, Lionel! won't have my
darling Lay of the Last Minstrel"
parodied! 1t is one of the love1iest
thinks know, and it sham be laugh
| ed at!
Laughed at! I was only adapting
the lines to express my conviction
that June is the best month in the
year to visit Venice, said Lionel.
The signor is right, chimed in the
valet-de-place, who much to Edith's
annoyance seemed to consider that a
great part of his duty consisted in
experimenting the conversation as
we'll as the movements of the young
couple. Later in the summer, con-
tinued he, it is so hot, and no one
cares nothing for Sightseeing In the
autumn we have those pests, the mos
quitoes, of a ferocity hardly to be told,
and more over, the canals are stag
nant and of smell not admired by
tourists; then comes the winter with
its winds-O-o-o!
And the 1ong-drawn, shivering ex-
clamation with an appropriate gesture,
expressed better than words Paolo's
terror of the Indictment season against
which neither Italian houses nor
Italian habits offer any effectua1 re-
sistance.
Now let us go into the cathedral,
said Edith little in1patient1y, turn
ing her back upon the laxative valet
One moment, interposed Pao1o, as
the young husband, with an affection
ate smile, moved toward the great
bronze doors, whose exterior the bride
was already curiously inspecting.
The signora will see the doors of
Venice surely? They are one of it's
prettiest sights.
The doors! Where are they? asked
Edith, raising her eyes to the bronze
horses over the doorway of the cathe-
dra1.
shrng of his Italian shoulders. Look,
madam, at the Tore DELI Oro1ogio; it
| is on the stroke of two.
He pointed, as he spoke to the fam
Gus clock tower adjoining the cathe-
dra1 upon its northern side, whose gor-
geous dial plate of azure and gold,
with the sun moving across his zodia-
cal signs around it, indicated, as Pao1o
said, the hour of two.
What 4 strange tower, and what
curious tower! and what are those
two statues of men, with hammers in
their hands, each side of the bell on
top of the tower.
Those are the Mons, slgnora. Look
precise hour of two the bronze men
upon the summit of the tower elevated
their hammers, and brought them
down upon the surface of the bell,
once, twice with a sonorous c1ang, re-
sounding over all the noise and con-
fusion of the Square.
How curious! What makes them do
that? exclaimed the little bride.
Because Pietro Lombardo so ar
ranged it when he built this tower in
1494, replied the va1et-de-place tran
| gully. But look now, signora. See,
see, see!
And f1inging his supple arm in one
direction Paolo pointed to the immense
f1ocks of pigeons, which, starting from
every roof, spire, dome, cornice of the
buildings about the Piazza, darkened
the air like a cloud for a moment,
then settled down upon the pavement
| around the feet of an old man, who,
with measure of grain in his hand,
stood sn1i1lingly watching until his
children" his ''pretty Ones" as he
called them, in his soft, Venetian dia-
lect, should be all assembled. Then,
dipping his hand in the measure, he
scattered the grain literally and just
1y, while the merry crowd gave way
on every side, leaving an open space
in the neighborhood of the old man
aud his pets, whose movements they
watched with the warmest interest.
How pretty! how lovely! But how
did they know that they should be fed
at two o'clock and who is the old man?
asked Edith, eagerly.
They are the doves of ST. Mark, sip-
nora, and since the memory of man
they have been fed here in the Piazza
of Saint Mark AT the r,r1hlic evnaoea