The Ely miner., 1913-08-15

Dent, Wh1te-ha1red I
form Of old .:Si
Borsini, and whis- [.A
pered: He will die of grief. 1t i.
great pity that he is too old for
vengeance"
When they passed the shop anC
found the shutters closed day afte,
day, with Nicola Davios puppies
playing on the steps and the dusa
blowing into the corners, they said
Poor old Dionigio. his heart is
broken"
And all the while Botta staggered
and grew fat with glory.
But one day the shutters wer,
opened, the puppies sent away anC
the door left ajar, so that one coult
see the mirrors and the kegs of rum
and more than all, Gentle Dionigic
himself, with his towel on his arm
and his fresh white apron. And thu
word went from one to another, unit
one by one all the topers eame-al
but one. and he was Botta.
And SO 1t was for a week, whe!
Botta himself came smiling and insol
ent and showing no fear 1t was the1
that the old rum sellers lips grew
white. and as he glared he snarlcd
Smile now. Botta, so that you ma,
look pleasant when your time comes,
Botta laughed, but his eyes grew
white underneath and his hand shool
as he drank
Again Botta came, laughing anC
jesting with his cronies, and winkinf
when Gentle Diopigio was not lookinc
But he grew silent when his uncl,
turned to him and said, softly:
Take care, my nephew, God has
told me to kill you within two
weeks"
And, on the night after two weeks
Botta was there again. And now
when his uncle came toward him, h;
drew back with alright, and put {
chair before him as a shield.
Have no fear" said the old mar
Il would have killed you last night
but God came to me in dream anC
said, One week longer, Dionigio.'
All the evening Botta sat with hi
glass undrained, thinking sic]
thoughts, with sighs and furtiv'
glances at Gentle Dionigio. For h
was afraid. AS he went home he sait
to himself, ''It is not right that h,
should bring God into this business
Why does he not try to kill me, a.
any one else would do? l could de
fend myself then"
He did not appear at the wine shoI
for long time, but stayed in his room
whiting the carvings that he sold OF
the streets In the daytime. One da!
he stopped, for he found that alway
his figures took the look of old Bor
sini and leered and laughed at hin
under the lamplight, and chilled hi
limbs.
In time the shadows in the room
drove him to the wine shop. HI
drew courage from thinking, "Olt
Dionigio has forgotten. He lies whel
he says that God is against me-
And when he came he grew bold
laughing and jesting as in the othe1
times In defiance, he waited unit
the others Lad gone, and then swag
gered to the door. When old Dionigit
tapped him on the shoulder he turned
in an instant. his knife In his hand
He thought, "It is now!"
But Dionigio was looking upon hin
with eyes as soft as nuns.
Listen, Botta." he said, God il
mercifH to you. On the night before
your doom, he came to me in my
sleep and said, 'pionigio, the murderel
of your son must live until the day
Of the Holy st. Peter. Until then he
must live"
But why do you not try now?'
stammered Botta, the knife trembling
in his hand. Now" and he clutchet
his uncle's arm.
mo" said gentle Dionigio, flingint
Botta from him. God has taken your
strength from you and I could sla!
you now, as you Stayed my poor Pie
tro. But Gods will shall be done
and you must live until the day o
st. Peter"
For a long time the topers did no
see Botta.
"He stays locked In his ROOM" saiC
one "And saw him peering ou
one day with the look Of a mad dog.
One day the barber, Fuseli. came
into the shop and said, Have yol
heard the news, Papa Borsini? They
have sent Botta to the insane asylum
you have lost your vengeance
Bah! What blockhead you are!'
answered gentle Dionigio.
At the end of the week he SEN
500 francs to the orphanage of The
Holy Father
IN the name of God, the avenger.
he said to himself.
fCaDurf0ht hv Doi1v Efnrv T01Ih Co.