The Saint Paul globe. (St. Paul, Minn.) 1896-1905, 1905-04-02
THE PICTURES AND THE PINEAPPLES1

holiday together as the birthday of
each comes round. He put the picture
away with another sigh. Sure, signor.
YER hard world. dis world" he said, and
would have said more had he not no.
t1ced q possible customer hesitating
before the fruit. At this sight his mel
ancholy fell suddenly from him, and his
lace lit up with the affable smile Of
commerce.
Here, then, was a romance, and
though ii seemed built on somewhat
conventional lines, and its effect was
slightly marred by the ease with which
Giuseppe's thoughts had returned to
his business, / found ID ii compensation
Tor over-ripe bananas, and 1 reflected
as 1 passed on that l should be pleased
TO hear more Of Ii. But the next chap
ter was several weeks delayed. In our
occasional conversations Giuseppe did
not allude to the subject.
Il fahcied that during this time II was
rather in his singing than in speech
that he expressed his feelings. AS the
evenings grew colder he used to warm
himself by pacing back and forth before
his stand, and at such times he often
sang his native songs. One Of these,
more from its frequent repetition than
its character, seemed to me to be tell
ing the tale of his hopes.
1t was a common enough song, pallid
and sentimental according to our mock
ing taste, but of the sort in favor
among Italian youth. 1t may be heard
along the quays at Naples. and the bar
bers' apprentices in the little New York
shops hum it softly to themselves as
they sit and wait for customers through
the dull afternoons.
So matters stood as | took my way
home one evening about IL o'clock. car
rying in my hand a book which 1 had
bought that day in town. 1t was one
or the first OF a class of publications
now more frequently seen-those which
give descriptions Of picturesque phases
OF life. illustrated with snapshot pho
tographs of actual scenes. This one was
called The Foreign Quarters of New
York" and as l approached Giuseppe's
corner, and saw him leaning rather list
lessly against the fruit stand, it oc-
CURED to me that among the pictures
were several taken in the districts
where Italians predominant. and that
he might be interested in them.
His attention was, indeed, courteous,
but he turned the pages, after all, with
only mild pleasure which did nothing
to prepare me for the excitement with
which he suddenly effervesced.
1t was one of the last pictures in the
book-a full page photogravure-whic
changed his mood. When he came TO
this Giuseppe suddenly held the book
then under the full flare of the gas. A
moment later he closed it with a bang,
placed it under his arm, and, holding it
firmly with his elbow. began in great
haste to turn out the lights and put up
the shutters.
Now, Giuseppe" expostulated.
would you mind telling me what has
happened? Or do you always close in
this sudden way?"
NO. signor," he answered, shortly
Found Rosa This was interesting,
but hardly explanatory. One gas burn
er was still lighted, and under IT he
opened the book again and pointed to
the picture which had so affected him.
1t was called "A Scene in the Italian
Quarter" and showed a typical tene-
ment street of New York. In the fore
ground was tangle of push carts, their
owners turning their faces curiously
toward the observer and shielding their
eyes from the glare OF the sunlight.
Beyond them a broad archway opened
through a row Of battered buildings,
and above ii a dozen windows showed.
At one of these, three or four stories
above the street, stood young girl, her
face and figure fairly distinct. TO this
figure Giuseppe pointed. "Resai" said
he, and turned out the last hight
/ was inclined to be incredulous.
Why should Rosa, supposed to be in q
village Of southern Italy, appear in an
unauthorized photograph on the island
OF Manhattan? The girl in the picture,
too. seemed to me a different person
from the maiden of the tintype. The
latter was round faced and bright eyed:
this one seemed worn and thin, with
the dull, staring eyes which speak Of
the pain and detection Of the city's