Manchester Democrat. [volume] (Manchester, Iowa) 1875-1930, 1901-11-06

know he Is dead!" then fall to weeping
bitterly.
The little fruit store which the father
had placed on the corner Of busy
street was doing fairly well, and they
might have been SO happy had 1t no,
been for this dark day cloud that hung
over them. and each grew darker; for
soon the sad-faced mother lost all pride
in the pretty cottage she had loved SO
well. She no longer sat before the door
With busy needle flashing in and out
some snowy linen, but with hands fold
ed idly before her she watched NIL day
down the busy street. or wandered aim
lessly about the little garden-plot, hum,
ming over and over again plaintiye
Italian lullaby:
O., che carl padora, che II milo tcsora,
vi milo d'amor, parla ancora!
Dear mamma. why do you sing the
same little song" Tonietta would ask
Because 1t is the one my Mariana
loved best of ALL" the mother would
reply. III he is out there in the great
world, I am sure its sweetness will
some day reach his heart and bring him
back to me-"
1t was but the foolish fancy Of the
yearnlng mother-loye, perhaps, yet who
can say that kind heaven did not
send II? And then there came an even.
ing when little Topietta. from her sea,
on the tiny doorstep, heard one from a
group Of kindly nelghbors who had
paused before the gate, say pltyingly:
Poor woman! She is Breaking her
heart for the son that was lost. She
will surely lose her mind unless he is
restored to her, and 1t is more than
likely that he has gone back to Italy,
ITO Italy! To Italyr' the little girl
started to her feet. All, why had She
not thought OF that before. ITO Italy,'
Yes! yes! 1t must be SO. for he had
said he would come again, when he was
rich like the rest of the Americans; and
she must go tomorrow and tell him
that the little mother wanted him-sc
so badly, and he must come home with
her, and then they would all be happy
once more.
Her childish mind had forgotten all
the long ocean voyage, and she could
hardly walt next morning until the tiny
lunch basket, which she always carried
to kindergarten. was packed, and she
could start. She had made up her mind
not to tell her secret. 1t was to be hel
own, until the happy moment when she
would return. leading her brother by
the hand. She took from its place or
the clock-shetf the little iron bank
where she had boarded all her savings
shook out handful Of pennies, ther
kissed her mother fondly and started
on her journey. At the corner she
climbed into waiting car, and when
the kind-faced conductor paused before
her, she held out the little brown hand
ITO Italy, please" she said.
ITO Italy7" he asked, in wonder
Then. ooh, you mean Little Italy; but
that's just cents. You mustn't give
me all your money"
And then she sat, with her great eyes
very wide at the strange sights anl
sounds as they whirled swiftly away
across the great city. She had never
been SO far from home before, so 1t wa.
all new. At last the conductor came
again.
Here you are, little one" he said, a.
the car came to a stop. Better rur
right home to your mother" for h,
thought, Of course, that she lived here
in the Italian quarter. or Little Italy
VAS 1t is called.
For just one moment the little CIR
hesitated and looked about her, half
frightened at the noisy, crowded street
bu In the thought of the sorrowinf
moAer at home all fear was forgotten
and bravely she started on her tramp
All, he terrors of that weary day ant
of the weary days that were to follow
Patiently she wandered through tn.
busy streets singing over and owe,
againthe little lullaby that was to bring
him hex to them:
O, Ge carl l'adora, che II milo tesora,
VI Mo d'amor, parla ancora!
NAd evening shs returned, 70 tired