The Pioche record. [volume] (Pioche, Nev.) 1908-1925, 1921-01-21

souls. the one upward and the other
downward. as wonderfully drawn rs
ever human lives were portrayed BY
pen Of man or woman.
Florence saw To Melena ever
making his way upward from the day
when he found himself adrift after
shipwreck. and was carried 10 the
market, by the omnipresent Bratti
merchant and huckster. and introduced
TO breakfast and n kiss from pretty
little Tessa, and passed Under the def
hand of the woodworking barber
philosopher NellO. That shrewd crafts
man with edged tools-razor or tongue
introduced him to the bright AMI
powerful folk who freQuented his shop
as II il were a club. .,nd brought him
to the notice OF the blind scholar Bar.
do. who needed just such a clever
young student as Tito for helper
From that his path yeas easy TO he
confidence of the grelt; Latin score
tary 10 the state, embassies to Rome,
everything was his, even 10 the envy
of Niccolo Machiavelli. The world saw
only the dazzling success; there were
a few who marked "the change thai
came from the final departure Of moral
youthfulness," who saw the perfidies
and desertions of the dextrous and fac
lie Greek, the basennss that smiles
and triumphs; who knew how he had
left to slavery the adaptive father who
had rescued him and made him what
10 hsN Cal. 30 ha
memory of Romola's father, VINO set
him on his way to triumph In Flor
ence, how he betrayed his great pat.
rons, how he deceived poor Iessa,
that "sweet. pouting innocent, round
thing" how he threw away the great
treasure of Romola's love- and how
his only bitter thought was that =
timely, well devised falsohood might
have saved him from evsry fatal con-
sequence.
Over against the figure of the man
she married stends Romola, flair as
the Florentine lily before 1t got quar-
relsome and turned red" as the rhap-
sedic Nello described her. Her con-
tempt of all injustice and meanness,
the noble serenity with which she nc
cepted, though not without inward
struggle, all that life and duty brought
her, the willing service she rendered
her father, her husband, the poor, the
sufferers in the plague, Tito's ataG-
doned father, even Tessa, her rival to
the title of wife, the mother of Tito's
children, the majestic self-possession
which at the slightest touch on the
fibres of affection or pity could be-
come passionate with teuderness-all
this justified her godfather, Bernardo
del Nero in his exhortation to her fa-
Their, Remember, Bardo, thou hast a
rare gem of thy own take care no
man gets 1t who Is not likely to pay
worthy price. That pretty Greek
has a 1.-THE sickness about him that
seems marvellously fitted for slipping
easily into any nest he fixes his eyes
upon"
But he that smiles and triumphs
does not always triumph to the end.
He is sometimes found out. So 1t was
with Tito. He had made the last
preparation for departure to larger
field Of action. Pursued in the night
by crowd of angry men, he barely
had time to leap from bridge into
the Arno. A long swim in the dark
could only feel vaguely that he was
safe and might land. But where? The
current was having its way with him ;
/ he hardly knew where he was; ex-
haustion was bringing on the dreamy
state that precedes Inconsistencies.
But now there were eyes that dis.
cerned him-aged, strong for the dis.
lance. Baldassare-his father-look.
ing up blankly from the search to
which his poverty had led him, had
seen white object coming along the
stream-could that be any fortunate
chance for him? He looked and looked
till the object gathered form; then he
leaned forward with start as he sal
among the rank green stems, and his
eyes seemed to be filed with new
light--yet he only watched-motion
less. Something was being brought t.
him.
The next instant mans body was
cast violently on the grass two yard;
from him, and he started forward like
panther, clutching the velvet tunit
as he tell forward on the body ant
dashed look In the mans face.
Dead-was he dead? The eyes wer,
rigid. But no, 1t could not be-justic,
had brought him. Men looked dea(
sometimes, and yet the life came bacl
to them. Baldassare did not feel fee
BILE in that moment. He knew jus
what he could do. He got his larg,
fingers within the neck Of the tuni
and held them there, kneeling on on
knee beside the body and watching
the face. In his eyes there was onl,
lierceness.
Rigid-rigid still. Those eyes wit
the half-fallen lids were locked agains
vengeance, Could 1t be that Re wa
,, dead? Surely at last the eyelidS wer
quivering the eyes We're no longe
, rigid. There was a vibrating light i
! them-they opened wide.
"Ah, yes! You see me--you kno,
G mew