Putnam patriot., 1926-04-23

to accomplish more jn their work. Further particulars will be given la ter and all those interested are re- old church came the bagpipe players filling the air with the notes of the beautiful "Pastoralea These were followed by q group of men bearing lighted candles Then the old door framed the quaintest of scenes three children dressed In the garb Of the MaRi. and behind them standing be- heath au old brocaded canopy the priest in his robeg carrying in his arms the "Gesu Bambna.. As the crowd stood with bowed heads, the priest passed slowly down the steps. fhe candle bearers surrounding him Che baepipes ahead and all the crowd falling ia lue ta make the traditional procession te tha ether gbarrhe of the town Tourist and peasant native and foreigner. taek theH Hlares ia Inc zi= leHt line the quiet ffe maoniit night broken only l H. 5all If tho ..nes
 The i'Patorais.'
 When. aH bour ar Haf. tH- 1f- cez-ieH returned tatH# EHu6h=aI fhe Cafmiue In those dala naar= af tha carly morning the fe=fa aerame CaruI- val iu the large r.sa that hang like shelf over tht .IeH gorge lead ing down "a the set f.IafF Nas aH ata- ton bE young pmazaHHes aH some thirteen vcars. and lirewofks followed and the cafes Were full If visitors wishing each other Merry Christ mas. and Tadrmina heeams gay and joval and friendly Tourists Who had passed each other for days With out a word now felt that heavenly urge of Christmas that wishes every one well
 Towards five o'clock in the morning two travellers went down the silent Corso and back tu the Timeo. lt was Christmas morning. Christmas m Sic fly Far over the Mediterranean and over the Atlantic. too 1t would soon he Christmas morning. that blessed feast of simplicity that brings agaiu peace and truth to the world. And in their cure aiWaXs was the music uf the ''pastorale, that strange combination of devotion and ecstasy that forever haunts the visitor who has known Christmas in Sicily.
 But it l. not faf US to describe th, "PUetorale. far # has been memar abls written by Mr Kitchens m "The Can of the Blood He. too must hau known the Christmas fiesta with les ample obs <rsauce and its ueerpeW eHnE charm Uls heroine who knew and lowed ~Iel.E returning ta heI nlaHHtHa Htar. hume outside Inf faaE mum heard Tar away shepherd play iue ine ra=t-l#Ie Fn=au who ha= once heard nr magic saug therg IS 8 fmil' H every .ne that he has Wrlt Cen
 'le the srsla. HcndoHs Wh HeH.d .Fastorale
 iigE hr Ha.gd. Tears came into her ,1ls thozs t=afz that come Ia a woman iu a moment of supreme ieE that seems ta wipe out all the surroV- of he past She felt as if she were iu great dream. one of those rare and exquisite dreams that sometimes batht human spirit as warm wave uf the lonian sea hathes the Sicihan shore iu the shadow of an orange grove, mur- muring peace. In that old tune of the 'Pastoralo all her thoughts of Sicily and her knowledge of Sicily. and her imaginatienS. and her deep. and pas sionately tender. and even ecstatic love of Sicily seemed folded and cher isked like birds in a nest. She could never have explained, she could only feel how h the melody with its droue bass. the very history of the en- chanted island vas surely hreathed out Ulysses stood Co listen among the hoeks of Folyphemus. Empedneles stayed hls fett among the groves of Etua to hear And Peresephone. wandering among the fields af aspha- del paused With her white hands out stretched ta catch it's drowsY beauty !. And Arethusa turned into a fountain. hushed her music to let t have it> way And Htrmlone heard in it the voice of che Bamhino. the Christ Child Co whose manger-eradle the shepherds followed the star and the voice If thu Madonna. Maria stella de mare. whom the peasants love in Sic- fly as thc child lves it's mother And these peasants were m it, too. people 8f the lava wastes and the lava terraces where the vines are green against the black. people of the hazel and the beech forests. where the little owl cries at eve people of the plains where beneath the yellow lemons spring ihe yellow flowers that are like their joyous reflection in the grasses. peapls1 af the sea that wonderful pur- pie siR ia whose depth of color Eter- mty sA ans caught The altars of tho pagslnNN sHl8 sssra in it. and the way -lie shr,rgs hefare which the little amHs are It hy night upon the lone k mountain sides. the old faith and the Hep asd the love If g land that ltfes an trau generation to generation 70 thf ralsne breasts Of men.