The Owosso times. (Owosso, Mich.) 1897-1926, 1900-09-21

would stop with a startled look and
search the face of some passerby that
reminded him wildly of his Peatricia.
He saw her often in this way, for her
image was really never absent from
his minds eye. In his reyeries OF her
she used to appear to him, and, as In
the old days, she would wind her
soft, gentle arms around his neck ana
whisper, Beloved Pietro, thou art a
god"
For a year now he had not heard
from her. 'She must be Dead he
thought at times IF she were alive,
she could not feel the power of my
love, though an ocean lies between u.s."
But, like all lovers, he was selfish and
sensitive, and he had sworn Oh 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, a neglected array, I'M
busted and unsold.
The citizens Of Little Italy" forgot
appear, they concluded that he had re-
turned to Italy for time, and they
did not even care to inquire. One day
a 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
The women were 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
q month. She called on all the saints
in the calendar to help her, and then
on death to relieve her. and she flung
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 vision Of his Beatricia
stretching out her arms to him and
crying out to him in a sad, distressed
way. The vision was so distinct that
for moment he thought 1t was real.
''She Is dying" he cried to the sky,
land she is sorry and would ask my
forgiveness, and 1 cannot go to her.
o God of the poor cannot go!'
1t made such a 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 fell
low, she is alone and waiting thee"
For the first time in many months
Pietro smiled.
"Nly MOTHER" he whispered, "is with
the saints and happyl What canst
thou mean?"
go, look for myself, half witted
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 the
shouts and the voice of Pietro, and her
heart gave one wild bound, and she
stood trembling at the door, ready to
fling it open.
Pietro stepped cautiously and touch
ed the handle. He did not know whom
he might encounter, so his advance
was timid. AS the door swung back
he gazed stupidity for moment. Then
a cry of joy and pain broke from his
lips as he laid his hand on his heart to
still it's awful beating.
"Beatricia, my beloved! Is 1t thouT
he gasped. "Dost thou love me?"
"Madly, Petrol
"Thou didst come to find me, Bea-
tricia?"
Thou, alone"
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