Ottumwa semi-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1899-1903, 1900-08-21

But, like all lovers, he was selfish and
sensitive, and he had sworn on his
honor never to write to her again, and
he could picture her often making love
to Marcello and Valentino and others
In the vineyards, as she had made love
to him.
A second summer of silence came,
and Pietro wandered out into the coun-
try and walked among the wood ferns,
crushing them to his breast with his
passionate love Of beauty. He would
go and spend days under the sky, beg
ging for food as he went. He could
not work. He was stepped, saturated
overcome by the accumulated longing
within him. The army of laughing
fairies and Dominican monks stood on
their shelves, q neglected array, un-
busted and unsold.
The citizens of Little Italy" forgot
his very existence. When he did not
appear, they concluded that he had re-
turned to Italy for n time, and they
did not even care to inquire. One day
little, old woman in shabby black,
with a coarse veil tied around her head
so that her face was wholly concealed,
came to Little Italy" and inquired
for Pietro. She could speak no Eng
fish, and she seemed greatly agitated.
The women We're consumed with
curiosity, and led her willingly to
Pietro's little workshop. Her terror
was pitiable when she found that he
| had gone and had not been seen for
month. She called on all the saints
in the calendar to help her, and then
on death to relieve her, and she flung
| herself con Pietro's own couch and
moaned for hours. She barred the
door and covered the window so that
/ the curious ones could not watch her
from without. and she herself only
emerged when she wanted to buy food.
1t was some days after this occur
renee that Pietro. walking in the coun-
try, saw n vision of his Beatricia
stretching out her arms to him and
crying out to him in sad, distressed
way. The vision was so distinct that
for moment he thought it was real.
"She is dying" he cried to the sky,
land she is sorry and would ask my
forgiveness, and cannot go to her.
o God Of the poor, cannot go."
1t made such powerful impression
upon his mind that he turned about
Immediately and began to retrace his
way back to the city and to his shop
When he reached Little ITALY," doz,
en- eager men and women rushed upon
him, seized him bodily and dragged
him toward his abode.
"Thy mother, thine old mother, is
here" they screamed. "Ungrateful fel
low, she is alone and waiting thee
For the first time in many months
Pietro smiled.
"N1y mother" he whispered, sis with
the saints and happy! What cans1
thou mean"
go, look for thyself, half witte6
sluggard and beggar," they bawled out
And they pushed him toward the door
The little, old woman who had i'm
prisoned herself within caught tho
shouts and the voice Of Pietro, and he
heart gave one wild bound, and sh,
stood trembling at the door, ready t.
: fling it open.
Pietro stepped cautiously and touch
ed the handle. He did not know whom
he might encounter, SO his advanc,
was timid. AS the door swung bacl
he gaZed stupidity for moment. The1
a cry of joy and pain broke from hi.
lips as he laid his hand On his heart tt
still its awful beating.
"Beatricia, my beloved! Is it thou?'
he gasped. "Dost thou love me?"
"Madly, Petrol"
'Thou didst come to find me, Bea
tricia?"
"Thou, alone"
'Thou hast come to stay, Beatricia?
"Always"-Chicago Tribune.