Sandra Belloni -- Volume 1

the most wonderful me

lifted a

first-violins at t

this impressive announcement was expressed i

nd I don't wonder at that:

ng but that ideas of a connection with foreign Counts

he is really the own n

id Wilfrid, in a

compo

mitted mo

that somebody lives that I love, and is ill-treated shamefully, crying out to me for help. My father had to run away to save his life. He was fifteen days lying in the rice-fields to escape from the soldiers-which makes me hate a white coat. There was my father; and at night he used to steal out to one of the villages, where was a good, true woman-so they are, most, in Italy! She gave him food; maize-bread and wine, sometimes meat; sometimes a bottle of good wine. When my father thinks of it he cries, if there is gin smelling near him. At last my father had to stop there day and night. Then that good woman's daughter came to him to keep him from starving; she risked being stripped naked and beaten with rods, to keep my

nglish for! It has made me and my mother miserable ever since. My mother is sure it is all since that night. Do you know, I remember, thoug

ything to do with the devil." Indeed, he was beginning to

hen my father plays. I feel as if I breathed music like air. One day came news from Italy, all in the newspaper, of my father's friends and old companions shot and murdered by the Austrians. He read it in the evening, after we had a quiet day. I thought he did not mind it much, for he read it out to us quite quietly; and then he made me sit on his knee and read it out. I cried with rage, and he called to me, 'Sandra! Peace!' and began walking up and down the room, while my mother got the bread and cheese and spread it on the table, for we were beginning to be richer. I saw my father take out his violin. He put it on the cloth and looked at it. Then he took it up, and laid his chin on it like a man full of love, and drew the bow across just once. He whirled away the bow, and knocked down our candle, and in the darkness I heard something snap and break with a hollow sound. When I could see, he had broken it, the neck from the body-the dear old violin! I could cry still. I-I was too late to save it. I saw it broken, and the empty belly, and the loose strings! It was murdering a spirit-that was! My father sat in a corner one whole week, moping like su

a, "you have never lived

,

ve a quiet

thank him for. He made me know the music of the great German. I used to listen: I could not believe such music could come from a German. He followed me about, telling me I was his slave. For some time I could not sleep. I laughed at myself for composing. He was not an Austrian: but when he was alive he lived in Vienna, the capital of Austria. He ate Austrian bread, and why God gave him such a soul of music I never can think!-Well, by-and-by my father wanted to know what I did in the day, and why they never had anything but potatoes for dinner. My mother came to me, and I told her to say, I took walks. My father said I was an idle girl, and like my mother-who was a slave to work. People are often unjust! So my father said he would watch me. I had to cross

. "You met him the next day nea

ent on her features. "How did yo

at generally happ

y, and I spoke of my father's playing and my singing. He was so fond of music that I promised him he should hear us both. He used to examine my hand, and said they were sensitive fingers for playing. I knew that. He had great hopes of me. He sa

you then?" inq

ople stood round us, and he hurried me away from them, and said I must sing to him in some quiet place. I promised to,

d Wilfrid, r

tly where he had given me the handkerchief. He smiled kindly, as I came up. I dislike gloomy people! His face was always fresh and nice. His moustache reminded me of It

cornet gave a

e to Italy, if I liked. I could have knelt at his feet. Unfortunately his friends could not come. Still, I was to go, and dine, and float on the water, plucking flowers. I dete

ate music for a moment, but it resolve

telling me his name: Augustus Frederick what was it? Augustus Frederick-it began with G something. O me! have I really forg

al cornet. "A.F.G.;-those are th

ia. "It must have been

rid. "He dropped it there overnight, and foun

d dismissed the subject forthwith, in a fe

word he spoke. The gentleman bowed to me, and asked me to take his umbrella; but I was afraid to; and my father came to me,-oh, Madonna, think of what he did! I saw that his pockets were very big. He snatched out potatoes, and began throwing them as hard as he could throw them at the gentleman, and struck him with some of them. He threw nine large potatoes! I begged him to think of our dinner; but he cried "Yes! it is our dinner we give to your head, vagabond!" in his English. I could not help running up to the gentleman to beg for his pardon. He told

a desperate grimace. He bade her continu

ful green purse! O that kind gentleman! He must have put it in my hand with the potatoes that my father flung at him! How I have cried to think that I may never sing to him my best to please him! My mother and I opened the purse eagerly. It had ten pounds in paper money, and five sovereigns, and silver,-I think four shillings. We determined to keep it a secret; and then we thought of the best way of spending it, and decided not to spend it all, but to keep some for when we wanted it dreadfully, and for a lesson or two for me now and then, and a music-score, and perhaps a

allant cornet's denial that he c

fought for Italy, because of an Italian child; but now I am wounded and a prisoner. When you sho

sparkled like the Christmas cakes in pastry-cooks" windows. I sang to him, and he made quite a noise about me. But the man made me so uncomfortable, touching my shoulders, and I could not bear his hands, even when he was praising me. I sang to him till the landlady made me leave

where that fellow liv

o you want any? I heard your sisters say something, on

veins and threatened to play the woman with his eyes, for a moment

made my mother come and tear me away to bed. I was obliged to submit to the Jew gentleman patting and touching me always. He used to crush my dreams afterwards! I know my voice was going. My fa

een playing! Then he brought home a new violin, and he said to me, 'I shall go; I shall play; I am Orphee, and dinners shall rise!' I was glad, and kissed him

an indignant figure, and her eyes were fiery: so that

h me, and, do you know, for some time I really thought I almost, very nearly, might,-if it had not been for his face! It was impossible to go to Italy-yes, to go to heaven! through that face of his! That face of his was just like the pictures of dancing men with animals' hairy legs and hoofs in an old thick poetry book belonging to my mother. Just fancy a nose that seemed to be pecking at great fat red lips! He met me and pressed me to go continually, till all of a sudden up came the first Jew gentleman, and he cried out quite loud in the street that he was being robbed by the other; and they stood and made a noise in the street, and I ran away. But then I hea

y're not gentlemen,

mother, and made her give me five pounds out of the gentleman's purse. I took my harp and music-scores. I did not know where I was going, but only that I could not stop. My mother cried: but she helped to pack my things. If she disobeys me I act my father, and tower over her, and frown, and make her mild. She was such a poor good slave to me that day! but I trusted her no farther than the door. There I kissed her, full of love, and reached the railway. They asked me where I was going, and named place

ked pensively at the horizon sky,

aid. "And you never saw anything more

ot kissed him. He did not want it. Men kiss us when

omething for the strength of the sentiment with which he had first conceived her, that it was not pelted to death, and turned to infinite disgust, by her potatoes. For sentiment is a dainty, delicate thing, incapable of bearing much: revengeful, too, when it is outraged. Bruised and disfigured, it stood up still