The record-union. [volume] (Sacramento, Calif.) 1891-1903, 1899-08-04
papers, and never reached it's destina-

papers, and never reached it's destina-
ton: n
My dear Sister:
How cold it is here. and how un-
happy is thy Giovannino!
'Dost thou remember the last spring
time, when Signor Antonio, my good
master, considered me, in spite of my
youth, sufficiently advanced in music
and singing to go to Paris? Paris is
far away said, he, but we can sing
on the way. At Paris the
Queen is Medici. With a
lutte and sufficient repertoire of beau
tiful airs, one is sure of making a for
tune at Paris *Paris, always
Paris. And always the Queen of the
court! So then, one fine morning we
departed. Besides our musical instru-
ments and our books. We carried on
the back of donkey the big Neapoli-
tan clown. all dressed in white and
strapped with leather just as Antonio
himself carved him from wood, which
caused us to laugh so merrily the past
year. poor Pulcinella had very little
good luck, no more than I, and old An
tonic had still less.
Everything went we'll the first few
we were in Provence. Picture to your
self country like ours; the sea, the
clear blue sky, white houses o'ergrown
with green vines. and many peaceful
villages and large cities. 1t
was real delight. pleasure, to travel
here. Then the language-almost Ital-
ian-and good natured people, always
ready to sing, always laughing Our
duets, instrumental and vocal, pleased
wonderfully, and Pulcinella, although
his pantomime was not understood as
well, achieved considerable success.
What beautiful France it is!
AT length we were obliged to leave
this part of the country. The master,
always enthusiastic. cried: 'Parigi.
Parigin So we journeyed by way of
the mountains leading toward Lyons,
this being the shortest route.
What a change, little sister-rocks,
always rocks. Here and there a poor
little village, and the sky less blue, and
the language becoming more and more
harsh as we assembled. Our songs no
longer pleased: and as for Pulcinella,
the people were totally unable to COM
prehend him.
I'VE were becoming discouraged, An
tonic and 1; even Pulcinella was mel
ancholy. He lacked courage and ami
nation; his red eyes became dull his
painted face seemed sad.
1T is bitter and cold without the
sunlight sighed Antonio; then hoping
to cheer us, he repeated: 'Parigi! Pa
rigi' No more receipts at these places
nor at the inns: and withal, that in
tense cold. Cold and hunger together
what suffering!
1--WE sold the donkey, and I carried
the books and the lutes. Antonio went
ahead across the dreary fields, by way
of the rough roads filled with ruts. Go
slowly. go slowly!' he murmured, Paris
is long way off. and the road is Steep
1--WE scarce advanced. for the old
master was too fatigued. One day he
fell down in the snow. and after that
he was constantly falling. Finally we
stopped at a little village where they
told us that the roads would be block
ed for month, and that we must wait
there until the return of the warm
weather.
But how could we without money?
= ! Old Antonio was discouraged.
Alas! alas! he sighed. poor Pulcinella.'
THAT evening, sitting in front of the
pine wood fire which the country folk
had allowed us to share, Antonio de-
sired to give me my last lesson by the
freight. The last! Dost thou see, lit
tie one? But did not understand that
this was in reality his last lesson.
Then he babe me good night more low