Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916, 1909-04-17

ness striving to call out against this
selt-imposed isolation; for he was So.
cretly lonely, as all bachelors must
be who have passed the Rubicon of
thirty. He made no analysis of this
new desire, or rather this old desire.
newly awakened. He embraced 1t
gratefully. Such is the mystery and
power of the human voice: this one.
passing casually under his window,
had awakened him.
Never the winter came with it's
weary round of rain and fog and snow
That his heart and mind did not fly
over the tideless southern sea to the
land of his birth if not of his blood,
Sorrento, that jewel of the ruddy
cliffs! There was fog outside his
window, and yet how easy it was to
picture the turquoise bay of Naples
shimmering in the morning light!
There was Naples itself like string
or its own pink coral, lying crescent
wise on the distant strand: there were
the snowcaps fading on the far hori-
zon; the bronzed fishermen and their
wives, sheer two hundred feet be-
low him, pulling In their glistening
nets; the amethyst isles of Capri and
ischia eternally hanging midway be-
tween the blue OF the sky and the
plue or the sea; and there, towering
menacingly above all this melting
beauty, the dark, grim pipe of Vulcan.
| How easily, indeed, he could see all
these things!
With quick gesture of both hands,
Latin, always Latin, he crossed the
room to small writing desk, turned
on the lights and sat down. He
smiled as he took up the pen to begin
MS composition. Not one chance In
thousand. And after several at
tempts he realized that the letter he
had In mind was not the simplest to
compose. There were a dozen futile
efforts before he produced anything
like satisfaction. Then he filed out
small check A little later he stole
down stairs, round the corner to the
local branch Of the postoffice, and re-
turned. 1t was only a blind throw.
such as dicers sometimes make in the
dark. But chance loves her true game
ster, and to him she makes a faithful
servant.
Il should be sorely tempted" he
unused, picking up novel and select
ing comfortable angle in the Morris,
L should be sorely tempted to call
any other man a silly ass Leddy
Lightfinger-it would be a fine Joke
If my singer turned out to be that t.
regular person.
He fell to reading, but it was not
long before he yawned, He SHE'D the
book into corner, drew off his boots
and cast them into the hall. A mo-
ment after his valet appeared, gath
cred up the boots, tucked them under
his arm, and waited.
II want nothing, Giovanni. l have
only been around to the postofice."
Il heard the door open and close
four times, signore."
1T was I each time. IF this fog
does not change into rain I shall want
my riding-breeches tomorrow morn
ing"
ut is always. raining here Giovan-
nj remarked sadly.
Not always; there are pleasant
days In the spring and summer. 1t
is because this is not Italy. The Hol-
lander wonders how any reasonable
being can dwell in a country where
they do not drink gin. It's home,
Giovanni; rain pelts you from differ.
ent angle here. There is nothing
more; you may go. 1t is two o'clock
and you are dead for sleep"
But Giovanni only bowed; he did
not stir.
"Well?' inquired his master.
1T Is seven years now, signore."
$50 it is; seven this coming April
I am now citizen Of this country;
obey It's laws; vote"
yes, Giovanni, you are an Ameri-
can citizen, and you should be proud
Of It,"
Giovanni smiled II may return to
my good Italia without danger"
That depends. If you do not run
across any official who recognizes
YOU
Giovanni spread his hands. "Ohi-
cial memory seldom lasts SO long as
seven years. The signore has crossed
four times in this period"
II would gladly have taken you each
time, as you know"
"Oh, yes! But in two or three
years the police do not forget. In
seven it is different"
"Ah!" Hillard was beginning to I'M
derstand the trend Of this conversa-
ton. SO then, you wish to return 2"
eyes, signore. I have saved lit
tie money" modestly.
"a little?" Hillard laughed. For
seven years you have received fifty
American dollars every month, and
out Of it you do not spend as many
copper centesimi. | am. certain that
you have twenty thousand lire tucked
away in your stocking; fortune"
Il buy the backing for the signores
boots" gravely.
Hillard saw the twinkle in the black
eyes. Il have never" he said truth
fully asked you to black my boots. y
"Penance, signore, penance for my
sins; and l am not without gratitude.
There was time when would rather
cut off hand than black a boot; but
all that is changed We Of the Sabine
Hills are proud, as the signore knows.
We are Romans ont there we daeDiee