OUR BOYS & GIRLS.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 761, 1 October 1886, Page 4

OUR BOYS & GIRLS.

MACARONI

Agnes Carr Sage

• Ah ! Macaroni, dear little Macaroni ! isit really true that you must be sold ? cried Charlotta Valente, throwing her arms around the neck of a small, gray donkey, and showering his long ears with kisses. * ’Tis too true,’ sighed her brother, Jacque ; ‘ to-day we will have our last trip up the mountains together; and tomorrow I shall take him to the city and sell him to the highest bidder; ’ and the boy’s lips quivered, while the large, dark eyes of all the swarthy children, gathered around, over■flowed with tears ; those of little Agostina falling on a sleeping baby she held in her arms, tightly bcund hand and foot in yards of wrappings, as is the curious Italian

fashion, the wee black head alone protrud- | ing from the huge cocoon. . J *Do not cry over Pepita, exclaimed their •mother, *it is bad luck,’ and she carefully •wiped the drops from the infant's face ; ‘though Heaven knows, little good luck has •come to us since the father was drowned. ‘ The worst of all is, that we must lose Macaroni,’ said'Giovanni. ‘No, the worst will be, if our Rosa has to bo away over the sea with Pedro, the ladrone. He says he will take her to America and make her a great singer,’ and tie mother glanced with sad eyes at a girl, seated at a distance, slicing vegetables ’into a bowl, and singing in a low, singularly weet voice, ‘ Ladis, Ladis, chela malata, Per me mangia polenti.

‘ She sintrs of-a girl who was too ill to eat her polenta, but the trouble with us is we are well, but have no polenta to eat, laughed Carmella, whom nothing could make -sad long, and whom her brothers and sisters called Carmellouche, because she was such • will von have bread if things continue as they are,’ said Mrs Valente. L have had no washing in three weeks, and it is many months before the grapes will be ripe and we can find work in the vineyards. •So come, Jacque and Giovanni, away up the mountain, and bring us a good, big fagot for the fire ; for, -hereafter, you will have to carrv Macaroni’s loads on your own bai r b sThus bidden, the two elder la^s s » at ° bed •up their quaint, conical-shaped felt hats, hunw a coil off stout rope about the donkey s neck and mounting the stolid, little beast • of burden trdtted slowly away, up the nrettv winding road. The Valentes* cottage P 1 Jlptnresauely situated on a steep hillZTe P above the quaint, old city of Genoa, w?fch a view of the blue bay in the distance, • snarkling and glittering in the morning sunshine But that same blue water is as •treacherous as it is beautiful, and one stormy night it swallowed up a poor fisherman - •Giovanni ’Baptista Valonte-and dragged down into its deep, murmuring caverns, leaving his peasant wife and eight little ones •to fivht the battle of life alone Very bravely the widow faced the world, and secured laundry - work from the many ‘foreigners who came to bask beneath the fair 'ltalian skies, washing the linen in a 'little stream 'that flowed behind ber hous , by spreading the garments on smooth stones r and beating them with a flat, wooden mallet • and in -this she was assisted by pretty, ■musical 'Rosa. But a sickly season had •frightened the tourists from Genoa ; silver -came very slowly into the old, wooden box on the top shelf, and the wolf was creeping -closer and closer to the door, when they made up their minds to part with Macaroni, the gentle, little animal that carried the paniers of clothes so willingly back and 'forth to ‘the city, brought the fi re -«’ood from -*the forest-above, and was like a child m the -household So that golden winter day -was a sad one in the little mountain home, -and the two hoys were not much happier, ■as they wended their way to the bountiful •woodsf where the ground was strewn with -dry twigs and branches. On the waj, they • encountered a handsome travelling carnage, which had stopped at a, hl 3 h ' -mandint' an extensive view ; and an Bng Tish-appearing lad was eagerly pointing out distant objects to his sister, al pretty, Iblonde -girl with long, fair hair, and honest, blue -lyes ; while a prim governess sat by,, looking as though ‘ prunes and prisms were llG f what dirty, ragged, little wretches,’ ex--claimed the boy, as Jacque and GiovaDm jogged slowly by ; ‘ if these are a s P ecin ?®£ of the picturesque Italian peasants, I think •we have much better in England. ‘ Oh ! hush, Dudley, they will hear you . and I think they are charming, with those ■bi cr, black eyes and that dear, funny, little •donkey,’ which, however, the Italians did not understand, although they did the -bright sipile and merry nod of the young -orirl : to which they responded with an awkward bow and cheerful ‘ buou Giorno ; for looks and smiles are alike ia all countries, and they did not hear the severe reprimand of the stiff governess for such familiarity. ‘ls she nob beautiful, the little, white Signorina !’ exclaimed Jacque , * Just like the angel in the big picture in the chureh.’ . ~ , „ - ‘Yes,’ said Giovanni, but that boy is proud. I saw him put up his chin at us. 1 hate these English, and would like to knock him down ;’ for the Southern bloo was ou fire at the imagined insult. ‘ You will never have the chance. laughed milder-tempered Jacque, ‘ and here we are at the forest.’ Underbrush was plentiful, and as the boys worked with a will, a large bundle was soon securely tied up with the stout rope. They whistled gay little airs to keep up their spirits, but almost broke down when tho last fagots were bound on Macaroni’s back and he rubbed his head against their shoulders in a carressing manner. ‘ Carino mia ! it will be loDely without thee,’ sobbed Giovauni, while Jacque added, ‘Tomorrow is a Festa day, but it will be like Good Friday to us, and we will not light a smgle taper. In silence they trudged down the mountain side, leading the little donkey with his load of tire-wood, their sad thoughts full of the coming morrow ; when suddenly, loud cries of distress fell upon the ears, seeming to proceed from a ■aidepath that wound on the edge of a steep precipice or ravine. ‘ What is that?' exclaimed Jacque, stoppine at the junction of the two roads. ‘lt is that proud English boy ; let us go pn and take no notice,’said Giovanni, whose quick eye had recognized a figure m the distance. . ‘But they may be in trouble. ‘ Then let them get out of it by themBelves, for I will not help them,’ muttered Giovanni with a scrowl. ‘ That is wroDg, brother ; the mother says we should assist all we can. I shall go and see what is the matter,’ and Jacque ran swiftly down the side-road, followed reluctantly by Giovanni with Macaroni. They were met by the English lad, now quite divested of all pride and dignity, and gesticulating in a beseeching manner; but they could not comprehend what he wished, until the governess hastened up, exclaimed in their own language : * Oh I do try and help us ! The little Lady Alice has fallen over the cliff, and cannot hold on much

longer !’ Hurrying to the edge of the precipice, the boys saw a sight that almost took their breath away ; for there, many feet below, hnng the little English girl, clinging for her life with weak, frail hands to abutting stone in the side of the cliff, one toot partially supported against the embankment; her bine eyes turned pleadingly JJPW, arclwhile she feebly wailed : ‘Oh ! Dudley, Dudley, save me quick ! I can’t hold on much longer,’ and far below a mountain stream surged and roared as though eager for its prey. ‘ The white Signorina !’ exclaimed Jacque in horror, while even Giovanni turns pale, and stands as though terror-stricken, gazing down below. Two or three great stones are loosened from their stronghold and go thundering into the depths beneath ; and the girl screams with terror, and turns so white, the lads expect to see her fall insensible from the narrow ledge, while her slender wrists seem strained and trembling. (To be concluded )