The farmer and mechanic. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 18??-19??, 1911-05-09
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with a. plume; that I came up to her
and said, Garry, dear Garry" n
that she looked startled at me, looked
sadly and turned away. Then 1
thought that I ran after her and kiss
ed her as I did when once h sat as
a little child upon her mothers
and I had thrown my arms around her
and cried. II do o you. Bella"
And so I came to Rome and found
myself well lodged with an Italian
enough to take in wandering tourists
for a consideration. A stout lady was
my hostess, and she had a daughter,
Enrica. This Enrica a light brown
hair falling over her shoulders care
lessly, and her rich, hazel eyes win
went in her rich transparent cheek
and her bosom heaved with her quick
step. SO fair, SO young. so unlike
other Italian beauties, was my land
lady's daughter. My chamber looked
out upon the Corso, and my parlor,
ments of the family by a narrow cor
ridor, looked out upon a narrow court
hung round with balconies.
Night after night a blaze glowed
upon my hearth fed by fagots of alders
brought from the Albanian Hills.
Night after night h family
came in to aid my blunder-
40 0PSOSA
sparkle OF my fagots. I taught
Enrica French: and she schooled me
in italian. I used greatly to love to
watch the puzzled expression OF her
face as she strove for the sense OF
some hard phrase, the thought Of
transferred it to her w liquid mel
ody Of speech. And it was pleasant to
be taught Italian by her. h a rich
flow Of superlatives and diminutives
came from those vermillion lips; It
was pleasant to open a French book
between US and to lay my hand upon
the page-a small page where her
and also lay. And when she pointed
to the wrong line 1t was pleasant to
correct ner-over and over-insisting
that her hand should be here and not
there. and lifting those little fingers
from one page and putting them down
on another.
Sometimes, half provoked by my
f~ault-finding, h would pat my hand
smartly with hers. But when I look
ed in her face to see what that could
mean she would meet my gaze with
such a kind submission and half ear
nest regret that not only was l forced
to pardon the %offense, but tempted to
provoke it again
Upon a little balcony Enrica kept a
few pots of flowers which bloomed all
winter long, n each morning I found
upon my table a fresh rosebud. Each
night did I bear ack to her, for
thank offering, the prettiest boua1et T
could n in the Via Condotti. One
day 1 received a large packet Of let
ters. AS I was reading them Enrica
snatched n from my hand and look-
ed with a sad. air curiosity at the
strange scrawl-the written English
was sealed to her.
VIVA can it be-" she asked, put
ting her finger upon the little half
line Dear Paul [ told her it was
Caro- milo" She laid the letter upon
ner lap and looked up into my face.
Is 1t from your mother?" she asked.
No From your. sister?" sNo."
Your b~rother?' Not from a brother
either" She handed me back the let
ter and presently laid down the book
in the evening. and in the morning
there was no rosebud upon my table.
And when 1 came at night with q
bouquet for her she asked me s.Who
had written that letter?' GA very dear
friend" I said. "a lady?" Yes. a
lady. Keep this bouquet for her"
said Enrica, and she put the bouquet
back into my hands. But, Enrica.
h has plenty of flowers; she lives
among them, and each morning her
children gather her En-
RIGA put her fingers within my hand
to take again the bouquet; and for a
moment I held both fingers and ho,,N
quet. The bouquet slipped away first.
I had a friend at Rome then. ana
one day We We're sitting on a block 81
tuffa in the middle of the Coliseunn
looking up at the shadows which The
waving shrubs upon the southern wall
cast upon the ruined arcades within
ana listening to the chirping sparrows
tnat ilved upon the wreck, when he
suddenly said to me: paul. Won love
that Italian girl" "She is very hao,
titul,' L replied. 81 think she ia he
ginning to love YOU" said he soberIv
.She has a warm heart" said I .hnt
her FEELINGS are those of a girI-she
Is only sixteen Her feelings are
,ot nose OF a girl" he replied. 81
nave seen more Of his southern M
lure than You have. The Italian DIR,
or sixteen is a oma You are lov-
lng-If you loVe@a ulLerown haar..