La Junta tribune., 1899-01-28
BELLINI'S MODEL.


sixteenth century at Venice than In the
later nineteenth in London Whsn Victor
Carpaccio and John BelIini paced the
marble pavement together in their stately
lowered robes. there was hardly sight
that met their eyes. whether they turned
to the rose flushed carvings on the doge's
palace. the fairy domcs and spires of st
Mark or the glittering water that Tapped
the steps which WAS not beautiful in form
and color Brightly colorcd gondolas be.
longing to the ruling classes in Venice
We're interspersed among the black ones OF
the commonalty, and draperies worn by
both men and women had a stately sweep
unknown In modern Europe. All was
fair and comely that the eye could reach.
No-not all. There was wretched
sickly child OF 4 laid upon the steps OF ST
Marks lion, who walled feebly and per-
sisteEtly and whose unsceing eyes told of
brain trouble He was in the charge of
AN older child---a iittle girl of s or ., who
held guitar upon her knees She was
picturesque enough; her long frock OF
faded bronze color was just the right tint
to throw up the true Venetian red" OF
her hair. which arched itself somewhat
strnightly over her sweet little face and
turned up Its ends with latent inclina-
ton to curl Every now and thcn she
sang O little song to her guitar In n per
functory. childish way-playing and sing
ing In perfect tune, but without enjoy
ment or interest When her song was
done, she mechanically held out little
brass bowl to the passersby. and then,
full or empty, set 1t down on the steps by
her side and turned with motherly tender
ness to the wailing child beside her, who
hoo
little knees in place Of the guitar
THE Madonna in glory, two saints on
either side. angels playing below" Bellini
was saying as they paced the pathway.
"Mine Is to be the Presentation In the
Temple, said Carpaccio land l also
must have angels playing below. So the
doge has ordered. But truth to tell, l
hardly see my wny to those same angels.
cannot frame my mind to the vision OF
them at that moment.
A soido for my song, excellency," snid
the little maiden's childish voice at his
knee as she held out her brass bowl Bel
lini loved children, and he felt in his pouch
for soldo, which fell ringing into the
bowl The child looked up with smiling
thanks.
what do they call thee, little one?" he
said. detaining her o moment, as she
would have hurried back to her guitar
and her baby.
My name is Anzioln Casalla, signor,
but they call mo Zanze OF the Lion steps,
said the little girl, because l always sit
and play my guitar here when no one else
drives me away" Then Bellini released
her, and she went back to her wailing
charge An acquaintance hers came up to
talk to Bellini, and Carpaccio waited by
his side and watched the little Zanze at
On "a fv.,s hn.
Suddenly u man attired In shabby 1nery
came up to the little girl and spoke rough
ly to her, evidently looking In great con-
tempt at the few soldi In the bowl. Lazy
bones, good for nothing" he said, always
nursing that idiot instead of earning thy
own bread. Thou shalt have the stick
when we get home"
May" said Carpaccio, '.the little one
does her best. Here is silver piece II she
will sing me her best song. and he drop
ped 1t into the bowl
Zanze drew a long breath and looked at
him gratefully Casalis lifted his shabby
hat not ungracefully and with q shade OF
apology
The signor Is good. he aaid. ',Zanze
can do better than anything his excellency
has heard. She has an ear as keen as any
| in Venice. and she can strike the note
upon the guitar Of any sound she hears.
Choose among the sounds your excellency
may hear around us. and abe shall strike
the note
| There was q chaos Of sounds around
them, street cries from the Pinzza, sing
| ing family heard from within ST. Marks.
the chatter Of the gondoliers. the plop plop
| Of the water against the marble steps, but
Carpaccio, whimsical by nature, said,
"Iet her strike the note the babe walls
in.
Zanze received her orders and Laid her
self out 70 obey them. First Of all, she
very tenderly laid the child along the step
| BY her side; then she sat down and took
up the guitar. balancing it with one slen-
| der little Log and bare foot 6ung far over
the other, while she bent her serious little
face over the guitar to try to get the note
Of little Zino's cry But art was in con-
-hict with nature As Zanze listened 70
the poor child's wall her delicate eyebrows
twitched and the corners Of her mouth
dropped She wanted to take him up and
comfort him much more than to initiate
his cry However, with an admonishing
4 word or two from her father she found the
| note and initiated the sound. But tho
/ moment her task was over she laid down
her guitar and took Zinc mp again, and
| while her father, with some akill and taste.
4 Wa performing bsrcarole ON the instru.
i ment abe was cosseting and kissing the
poor little unrecepttve child. Then Car.
i paccio said few wortit 70 Casalla and
turned away and thrust his arm through