St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1901-09-04

ing-of the most brilliant conquests,
the most illustrious situations Of the
boards"
Catarina had been six months in "the
profession" By dint Of what exer-
tions, of what energy, resolution, had
she carried her point! 1t was heroic
but of that kind of heroism which is
utterly unconscious to the doer. Cata-
rina knew world Of things, and she
had nerves of STEEL She had succeed
ed, And then her chance came. AL
most as one losses ball Of worsted
to kitten they had given Catarina an
interpolated "song and dance"
She could not sing little Bit" for,
though her voice had a quality as
though the sense of touch had some
how been dissolved into it, the volume
of sound in singing was altogether too
feeble. The audience laughed, laughed
even at the beautiful Italian eyes, sim
ply because they were "new"-until
Catarina began to dance. They had
taught her steps for fortnight, but in
her excitement she had forgotten them.
She fell back upon the steps her mother
had taught her and upon her genius.
Her dancing spoke, 1t sang, it laughed
1t teased-yes, like the very kitten with
the worsted-it fascinated, it struck
fireworks, it brought down the house
in thunderclap of sudden, impetuous,
astonished applause.
met her going home one night short
ly afterward. She had slipped away
and was actually trudging or, rather,
stepping 1t, like fairy on foot. Per-
haps she liked the walk; perhaps it was
the habit of the old days when half
penny doomed vast as a sovereign.
She was beautifully dressed, though
outwardly enveloped in coarse cloak.
1t came on to rain, and suggested
we should take a hanson. She con-
scented with the air-in her 1t was no
affectation-of a princess, giving me
her dainty little hand. On the way
down Bayswater road she alternately
laughed and cried for JOY, and her
whole pleasure was that she would be
able to make the "mater" countess.
"The mater, you know, suffers, al
though she never complains. She has
Indigestion"
Poor mater! I thought Of that long
campaign of suffering, of privation,
even doubtless at times Of starvation,
and Catarina knew it. We came near
Princes road.
"Tell him to stopw Catarina cried
suddenly. Then with the confidence
of old acquaintance:
II can't bear to tell any one my ad-
dress is in Princes road. l abhor it.
But the mater is positively loath to
leave it"
"Catarina," 1 said, mo one, I hope,
Judges you by
She started up as IL she had been
struck by a whip, her eyes in the moon
light glaring like those Of tiger,
throwing luster upon the pallid, beau
tiful countenance.
The sudden glance recalled to my
mind the picture Of the mater" MAIN
ed and bruised from the terrible battle
of life, with her broken English, gar
nished with the hideous slang of
Princes road, which she had piously
accepted as the English vernacular.
"Catarina," 1 pursued firmly, "no
one, 1 hope, Judges you by Princes
road"
She seized my hand. The tears gush'
ed to her eyes. II thought you were
going to say something else. If you
had, by Jove, I'd "a gone for you!"
We walked on in silence till we came
to the little greengrocer's shop. I was
about to bid Catarina good night, but
she said: Come in for minute ant
talk to the mater. She sits up waiting
for me always. And if you tell her
danced we'll she could listen to you tell
ing it hundred times"
We entered through the darkness Of
the shop. A pale light shone, however
through the crack in the parlor door
Catarina, little surprised that the
mater had not opened to greet her
called out, mater, mater, mater!' al
she entered the room.