The Birmingham age-herald., 1908-06-28

tn em, and the little father himself, for
 he said in a gentler tone: 1 You say Blanca do Pietro is here,
 Kate? I'll let her in.'
 He went to the dining room door, re- l 1ecting that there were worlds within
 worlds in this ward in which he lived: ! a little Bohemia, a little Russia, lit l tie Orient, each with it's characteristic flavor it's own gestures, tones, colors, and now he was opening the door on
 bit of little Italy. The hall was all
 most full of people; It's dimness was softened by blazing bits of color; here a yellow scarf, there a crimson shawl.
 Noisy whispers ceased as the father glared out; soft, dark eyes gleamed at him; one little child leaned forward
 and said boldly, "Ecco Padre" and then half whimpered as her mother jerked her backward by the arm. Father Kin i sellagh dropped his head to conceal the tender smile that rushed to his lips.
 Then he said sternly, in beautiful Italian
 All except Blanca do Pietro go to
 the Sunday school. I'll see you there." The crowd shuffed out of the hall
 into the street, leaving alone in the dimness slim figure clad in Madonna
 blue. As she moved forward in obe-
 dience to the priests backoning hand her face bloomed out of the shadows like a lovely flower. Her dark eyes were lowered shyly, and there was little lift in her upper lip which made her mouth path etic in repose and allur- ing when she smiled.
 The little fathers face lighted as he looked at her There were other girls and boys in his parish as beautiful as Blanca, but somehow her pure, innocent | face, her tender, faraway look, her sud-
 den trembling smile, always meant Italy to him. He never saw her that he did not l see himself again. young Irish student 1 among the hills of Tuscany, so loving :. Italy and through her all nature and all people. that he had vowed to dedicate his | life through the church to her. He re- membered the pure nights of ecstacy on 1 the hills under the white Italian stars l with no sound but the distant tinkle of | a sheep bell or the wind in the trees and l he remembered hours of quiet joy in St. ; Peters church, with the great shaft of gold light pouring down before the high altar and all these noble hours had con- secrated him to this work among tho l poorest and most sordid of Italy's chil- dren. He loved the beauty of Italy, and every day he lived with her uglness and misery among those who could never
 know that his service to them was an act of worship to the beauty he never hoped to see again.
 Blanca made a deep bow to the priest, gave a sidewise glance and smile to Mac Mahon, but did not seem to see Kate, who smiled at the neglect
 Now, then, Bianca," said the priest, s Pasquale-is your father worse?" "Ah, no Padre" said Blanca, with deep
 sadness The mucha better; he soona be
 well, and mia madre and l. we crya." What, you shameless girl!' stormed the priest 'Is that the way to talk of your father?"
 Blanca had an instinct for the con- crete She pushed back her blue sleeve and showed a long. ragged cut. "He do me thata,'' she said, with ex- pressive gesture "He do mia madre one
 when she was keep him from killa my sisters bambino. He say he killa me if tella you.''
 Father Kinsellagh sighed and Mac Mal1on doubled his fists. Blanca smiled at the gesture as she went on: But no minda the beating if he let me have signori come see me But no! am worka for him till he die, he says. So I want him die quicka,' she con-
 cluded simply; "If not marry soon not
 get a man."
 1T think the mans wits are going"
 murmured the father. "I'll speak to
 him."
 "Ah, no, Padre" she pleaded, her It,
 tie hands outstretched. We praya he
 die quicka. He is up when I leava. He
 send me to ask to christen the bam-
 bino of my sister this morning. I
 wanta him called Michael"
 Kate stared, laughed and then gave
 MacMahon a dig with her powerful
 elbow.
 "'Taint so," he whispered angrily;
 "she's afther callin' ut Father Kinsel-
 lagh."
 And my father saya." went on Bian-