The Worcester spy. [volume] (Worcester, Mass.) 1898-1904, 1899-10-22
PAOLINA SHORT STORY OF THE DAY.

farewell as pretty and passionate as
ever was accompanied by whispering
water, and 1 blushed, even in the dark
ness, at my stupidity, and, splashins
out into the open, headed for the Sally
port in the noisiest manner possible
But I had not gone so yards before
'Cenzini raced even with me.
"Ahl the Signor Ingleez," he grunted
and I was pleased to fancy that his
voice had note of relief.
mo other II told him, and then, after
we had sWum a score of strokes in 81
lence, 81 came suddenly upon ghosts"
said gravely. Folk who died long ago,
1 could not see them, sand if | heard
anything, I have forgotten it,
eff any of our chattering people had
met CHESTS" 'Cenzini dubbed at my
side, significantly, they might have
died"
1 let this pass in silence. There was
something else that I wanted 70 say,
but how to say it discreetly 1 could lot
tell.
"A night like this, I whispered, clums-
lily enough, as we drew near the oppos-
lite bastion, lis like paradise for you
and me. If it brought trouble to any
one else" I stopped, not knowing
how to say what l meant, but 'Cenzini
answered aptly enough.
''When 1 was a little one" he told
me, looking straight ahead as if for any
possible stargazer, when 1 was a little
one, 1 remember 1 cried for the moon.
My mother told me then that she was
quite safe and too far off to reach. To-
night l thought her much nearer; but
balcony over the water is much too
far-and the moon is safe still"
Il am glad to hear it," 1 said more
cheerily. "I could not bear to see her
pulled down. Good night, Endymion-
or perhaps Leander is better?"
"Signor?"
Ghosts, both of them" I told him
softly, and turned ashore, while he
swan farther into the bay, to his own
place.
When choosing my fruit of morning
after this little adventure, l never
thought Of mentioning the ghosts to
grave-faced little Paolina. This was
about the time. however, that l found
myself getting fuller measure, and had
occasional roses dropped among the
fruit.
Then came cholera into the, Mediter-
ranean, with it's accomplishments of ter
ror and quarantine.
1 was always the mad Englishman''
to my neighbors, and never more so
than now, when | explained to ola Ma
10 anu " 5OleIllll-Gyeu dOllla CnHT /
still expected fruit for my breakfast
table 1 cherish medal of my pG.ron
saint, which Maria insisted on hanging
around my neck at that time and
which, she protested, was my safeguard
against the penalty of foolhardiness.
But what with the hot season, sirocco
winds, and the constant fear of death,
many people fell ill of many obscure
ailments
Old Maria and her crony with wood
en-thumbled Cesare, the cobbler, sat
one evening over pennyworth of wine,
and gloated like ghouls over recollec-
lions Of the last dong ago. epidemic.
There was Benigno Falcon" Cesare
reminded her. 'He was foreman of
coal-porters to Vella. He laughed at
the cholera to me on the piazza, and
fell before he was out of my sight"
There was pretty 'Richetta.' Maria
remembered, 'Richetta by the Dogana.
l sat up with her, and her sister Te-
resa, on a Monday night, to finish her
wedding dress-and on Wednesday we
buried her in it,
'Cenzini, lounging against the wall,
and listening as these two ravens
croaked, crossed himself and turned
yellow.
Santa Maria" he declared, 'I, my
self am sick" and sick he was, and
delirious, and talking nonsense of lit
tie Paolina of the House of the Bay,
before twenty-four hours had gone by.
Yes. 1 will have your fruit" told
Paolina at my door tive MORNINGS la