The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1898-12-21
A CHRISTMAS WITCH.

the city was alight-such crow ds OF peo-
pie hurrying by Such visions daz-
zling-bright cleaning in gay shop win
dOws. Such ringing Of laugh and jest
Such nipping, biting, twesking cold
blown out from the far Northwest All
the laden carts seemed rattling and
rumbling louder than ever before And
how, through glare Of torpedo and
rocket, the restless horses tore. The
very air, in some strange way, seemed
filed with faint, sweet stir, like the
echo Of small, far reindeer-hoofs, and
fairy chariot's whiri
Then, every eye was bright with
smile, as far as one could see yes, all,
exeept-Why, who's this?
"oh, just a waif from Italy - says
the busiling crowd-and it bustles on
while another sweeps in place. But
who has the to heed a lad with a
heartbreak on his face?
"Nello, the little fiddler boy" they
call him on Dismal Row, at the farthest
end of Drear side street,-where he
turned just now to go for there is the
dark and bare little room. which is all
he has known Of home since he and
Tessa-the little sister-lodged in the
streets of Rome.
He and Tessa are orphans, and have
been since either knew-Tessa says
they were orphan-born-and he half
believes it too. But, nevertheless, when
he has had luck they have never gone
hungry long, for there has been always
the viOlin-and sometimes with it, a
song to coax in a penny-now here,
now there-till at the end of busy
day, with buns and coffee for Tessa
aud him, it was worth ones while to
play.
The busiest day he had ever known
had been this Christmas Eve; tired and
hungry and cold enough-he had never
dared to leave the streets where the
glad throngs came and went-for they
seemed more pleased to-day with the
plaintive tones that the music took
whatever he sought to play.
He had thought to give them his
merriest tunes, but they fled beyond
his will the longings that swelled his
heart it seemed too, his violin loved to
fill. Yet, strangely enough, the crowd
looked pleased, so he played on there
till night; for what but good warm
dress for Tessa should mean those PEN
nies bright now tucked away in his
pocket deep-a dress, and may be
shawl.-and-and-just a morsel for
both to-night-if the money would do
for all
At last, with these glad thoughts in
his mind-as fast as be well could 90
for the crowd on the crossing turn
ed his steps in the way Of Dismal Row.
The streets were blazing with colored
lights-the toy bombs bursting loud
what wonder the horses Of careless IL
ders SHE'D at the noise and crowd
Such one was it that, spurred straight
on by his rider, as though possessed,
bore then toward the surging crowd
through which young NellO pressed.
An instanfs jostle and knocking about
the next, as the people rushed, the
violin lay meath the horses hOcfs-in-
TO splintered fragments crushed
His violin. He could make no moan.
One little gasping cry, half starting
out from his parehed-up throat, seem.
ing on his tongue TO die. Half Of the
people not 50 much as saw, some others
said: "Urnph that's smashed . The
little boys tiddlew
"Look there -
"well, well, thought we all should
be mashed -
"Nobody's killed p said one, with
laugh, ''nobody's killed-but fiddle p
The face Of the little lad bending above
its wreck was an unread riddle.
As one in dream went Nello home,
but his landIady, Mrs. MolIoy, meeting
him on the steps, stopped short in dis
may at sight Of the boy, for his eyes
were filed with deep despair, and she
saw, hugging up to his chin, what
seemed like the handle and broken bits
of "a worn old violin.
How her kindly heart tried all known
ways to soothe his grief, when she
heard How Tessa gave comfort Of
kiss cares aud every soff, loving
word But the violin lit had been
part of himself-and the friend that
had brought them bread. Itwas Christ
mas Eve but be sobbed himself to
sleep on his palletbed.
In a brightlit, handsome uptown
house,-good Mrs. Molloy all day had
been helping the maids at their chores,
aud had only just stolen away $50 give
the old man bit Of a sup as she said
and that being done, went back to
finish her part Of the preparation for
next days fun.
A rich woman lived in this beautiful
house-a woman the world called cold.
Twas said that she cared for one per-
soa alone = her daughter, just eight
years old-a fair little maid, who, with
eyes stretched; stood list'niug while
Mrs Molloy, perched on a step-ladder,
hung up the greens-and told of the
''Eye-talian boy.n
'why, num-" concluded Mrs Mol
10y to the lsdy near, wreathiDg green,
''hs was that distracted wild grief, he