The Storyteller

New Zealand Tablet, 2 May 1912, Page 5

The Storyteller

FATE AND MARITOZZI

I. v Caterina sat under the shadow of the Cathedral aP Frascati selling maritpzzi. In case you should not kjiow what maritozzi are, I must explain. Personally, I have never felt. tempted, since I ate my first, to squander my substance on them, but in Frascati they sell like—well, like hot cakes, although they are only cc>ld, hard, dry, uninteresting brown buns. Caterina was looking distractingly pretty and very cross— shall we call it worried? As for the colour oi ! her face, and the size of her mouth, I beg you not to ask me to describe them. I have no time. I have to .write on more important matters— and maritozzi. ' But I will tell you why she was looking so cross of rather worried. It was because she wanted Peppi .no Baldi. She wanted him very badly, and the tireseme part of it was that when she did not want him •--and she had never wanted him beforehe was always to be found playing about the streets in company with other idle, happy young scamps of his own age—which was nine or tenpicking quarrels or shamelessly begging for soldi from every visitor who came off the train, and taking the said soldi very faithfully to Catering's stall to buy maritozzi. >- . .

Often when she had had a good day, and there were only one or two maritozzi left on her stall, Cateliua would give him one, if he passed by, as he always did, with a yearning eye and no soldi. . But this morning she had to wait an eternity before he appeared, in answei to urgent messages sent by every boy, who passed, to tell him to hurry up and see what she wanted. ✓ :

What is it, Signorina Caterina V he asked, with an eye on the stall. I want you to take a letter to Francesco Trento. He .is at work on the vines at the Villa Mondragone. I know it is a long way, but if you will go, you will have as many maritozzi as you can eat.’ ( I 11 go,’ said Peppino, licking his lips. ‘How many do you think you. can eat?’ she asked. tt Now this was a most delicate and trying question. He thought he could eat a dozen, but he also thought it was impossible to say so. ; Could you eat four?’ she asked. ‘I could,’ he answered,-firmly. j Then, there are six for you. Now, you understand, don t you? Give this to Francesco himself—to no one else mind, and see if he says anything, and then come back at once and tell me.’ ■ She smiled kindly after Peppino as he trotted off. She was fond of children; indeed, she was nothing but a child herself—she was eighteen last birthday—although she was engaged to be marriedone day The astute reader will have guessed that . Francesco was the man and if he has not already guessed the contents the letter, 1 can tell him. Caterina was tired of r i ancesco; she was angry with him, and she had written to tell him that she would never marry him—no, not if he asked her on his knees. The cause of this as she never dreamed of hiding, was his meanness. She was * vain young person, very fond of finery, and she had asked him to buy her a black satin scarf lined with white, which she had set her heart on. She was not at all fond of wearing blade as a rule, lor she considered it a dismal ana unbecoming color, but all the foreign fames who came to spend, a day or a week at i rascati and stopped to buy maritozzi as they came lorn visiting the Cathedral wore black scarves lined with white, and if tney wore them, they must be fashionable, and if they were fashionable, Caterina desired to. have one, and she told Francesco so. She a!so told him the price—twenty-five francs— and indicated the shop, where they were to be bought. It is to be believed that he merely said that he had no srnvt ey, l and that he had S iv e n her the flowered silk seal f she wore over her head only a fortnight ago that 1 Rnnrf WaS ? a( ? Wlfch disappointment. She wanted that scarf, and she meant to have it. She spent all hey money on dress, and expected Francesco to spend most of his on presents. He was older than his little fidenzata, a silent, sober man, madly in love, unable to refuse her anything when she turned up her face and crinkled up her eyes, and told him, in a baby’s voice, she would die if she did not get what she wanted. And i now, for the first time, he had refused > absolutely, to buy what she wanted ! She had cried all night, afterwards, and had got up. at four in the" morning to write to him. .She , had been in a fever of ini patience to send Peppino with the letter, : and to see what the answer would be. Of course, there would ha™* a T er - Perba P s Francesco would say she might Perhaps—* if *** she ™ W W She A soft patter by her side disturbed her dream* very S fa e ’d Ink 616 WM & ‘er .Elizabeth, talking Worried g V “ y cross ~that is to say.

Caterina could scarcely understand what it who all about, for Sister Elizabeth* was a French-worm' fa, d “ an WaS S® 1 i " llt of the community. As far as Caterina, could gather, Reverend Mother hJ sent Sister Elizabeth to find some one to nurse 1 the hospital; and although she had been to each of , the five women whose names had been given her sL ! them all either out, or busv ‘or ton la > c • f ound little Sister, decidedly. “ Uzy ’ the

Hfe : * I suppose you would not come?'.she asked. V . I " I ? Why, of course not. I cannot leave the jV.stall*. Besides, I don't care much about nursing,' she r added,.; frankly. - '. .v--' ;t- ; ;: | * Well, it's really very tiresome. I must find some- '; body. 'We are full up, and now there is a man brought in last night, ; and no one in the accident ward to nurse .. him. , :-' ' \ . '- '". ..\ .The - accident ward' was a spacious apartment, about twelve feet square, where any of the villagers ji who happened to break a limb, or scald themselves, or otherwise get into trouble, were nursed. The ' hospital' consisted of two small buildings, severely separated, one: for women and one for men, where about forty old folk found a home. Each of the buildings had, besides, a few rooms set apart for the sick. There was the 'accident ward,' the consumption ward (a trifle larger), and one or two others. The Sisters spoke with pride of their ' wards' when they showed visitors round the '■;•' hospital.' ' An accident?' asked Caterina, brightening. (How is it (Hat the misfortunes of others are always so interesting?)'. ' Yes, poor man. He was at work on the new wing at the Capuccini, and he fell off a ladder and broke his leg. The Brothers brought him down last night, and the doctor set his leg.' 'What sort of man is he, old of-" young?' asked Caterina'. . ." 'Well, I'm afraid I didn't notice,' said the Sister, simply. 'f' Middle-aged, I should think.' (Caterina thought she would not be a nun; no, not r or all the gold in. Egypt ' Well, cheer up, Sister, I'll come and help you'.Just wait till I tell Ninetta (that's my sister) to mind the stall, and then I'll come along.' She was very tired of sitting there, doing nothing but think, think, think, about Francesco. Considering bjfra| she did not care two pins for him, it was foolish to waste time thinking like that. But then there was the —she had not quite despaired of it yet. . ..:...' ■-..--•.. " ' . -EJalf-an-hour later she appeared at the- convent, leaving Ninetta in her place behind the stall, with strict orders to send Peppino on to her as soon as he retuf ned. V. 'When she arrived at. the convent, Sister Elizabeth, with a very bright color, was talking to the Reverend Mother. 11 can't think how you could be so silly, Sister Elizabeth,' said the latter, when she heard who was coming to nurse the sick man. ,-;■•>- /Is it becoming, is it possible, for a young girl of eighteen to be put in charge of that man ? He must not be left, the doctor says. How can I leave that child ; with him?' *! But.he is so ill, I thought we must find someone. Of c< purse when he is better— perhaps he won't get bletter for ever so long,' said Sister Elizabeth, in quite I a hopeful tone. Hi am surprised at }'ou, Sister,' said the Reverend Mothler, severely. She was very cross. I am afraid I cannot call it worried this time,- for she was more than -icross—she was in a very bad temper. il thought you knew better, Sister Elizabeth,' she sspd. ■••. ' '" ■■■ ■■- . .' JYes, Mother,' said Sister Elizabeth, quite crushed by this time; and unable find another reply. crushed s time, and unable to find another reply, #t this point, Caterina arrived, and Reverend MothAr, greeting her without enthusiasm, said she she would make herself useful, and help with the olid women. 31d women; why, I thought! was to look after a marl who had broken his leg!' ' JNo V .' said Reverend Mother, firmly. ' You are not ejftperienced enough.' t _ '.pxpefienced! .Didn't my own father break his leg la&t summer, and I had to nurse him: because you could A't find room for him here? And didn't I nurse him all right? If you don't want me I'll go. s I'm not gc ring to wait on old women.' '. w£ - T r e Reverend Mother cast an 'I told you so

glance at Sister Elizabeth, who ; was busy looking out of the window. - -■-.-""'.' ; Nonsense, Caterina,' she replied. 'Of course, you will stay. I will give you two francs a day, and you will have your dinner here. Go and find Sister Lucy, and tell her you have come to take her place and say she is to come to me.', v : ;. ; :...._ ~...;.,.:.' . .. : ■;.-..'_„. ; ,. P -' Oh, very well, Mother,' said Caterina, rather wearily.. Anything was better than doing nothing! Anything to make the time pass. . ; : . ■'-.,';.■■'■■• .>. She found Sister Lucy in St. Ann's, trying to coax a very cross old woman to drink a cup of milk. ; (St. Ann was the patron of the woman's quarters, while St. Joachim fulfilled similar duties in connection with the men's side). - . ;..-..,.. ,\\ ,, 'Such mean ways!' the old woman was saying. Never a bit of meat, when there's others not half so ill as me getting fat on chicken, and anything they, like to ask for. All I can say is that it is most unfair!' Sister Lucy only smiled. ; .-- 0 ' Here, dear, drink this nice milk. You know you shall have meat the first minute the doctor, gives permission. Come, be good, and drink it up nicely!' Ay, be good, be good,' said another old woman, sarcastically. ' I'd thank you to be good, Sister Lucy, and let us have a little more liberty. Why am I ill? Because I never have a bit of exercise, kept under lock and key, and never allowed outside the gates!' 'Why, Marietta, you know you have the whole garden to walk in all day long, if you like,' said the Sister, brightly. We are afraid to let them go out alone; they always come, back the worse for drink. Besides, they are so old, poor dears, it is not safe. But they love to grumble, poor old things,' she whispered to Caterina. _ • ' Well, I hope they won't grumble at me,' said Caterina. 'l've come to take your place, Sister, and Reverend Mother wants you, please.' ,': An old woman sat near the window, smiling sweetly, and twisting and untwisting a piece of cotton round her finger. • 'After considerationno!' she repeated, monotonously. ._ V Oh, ' cried Caterina. ' I can't be left with her, Sister. I wouldn't for anything! I'm afraid of her.' Why, she is quite harmless. She wouldn't harm a fly. She will be as good as gold, won't you, dear ' After consideration—no!' said the poof creature, without lifting her head. -^ 'Well,' said the Sister, laughing, ' I will ' take her into the workroom. Sister Rosa is mending the table-cloths. She will keep an eye on her.' Caterina watched her lead the old woman, from the room, coaxing her with kind words. "". 'Well, how anyone can give up everything to go and take care of lunatics for the rest of their natural existence, I can't think. I call it sheer folly. (Quite right, Caterina. It is follythe folly of the Cross.) •■> - 11. ... Caterina spent a dull morning, listening to their grumbles and wondering what time Peppino would be back. At twelve o'clock a little Sister appeared with a message, but not from Peppino. 'Reverend Mother says, please, that you" are to go up to the accident ward, while Sister Lucy goes to meditation.' Caterina roused herself from calculating the distance to the Villa Mondragone, and the time it would take the laziest boy to get there and back. So they could not get on without her in that accident ward after all, she thought with a ' smile! '\' ,:.- She ran upstairs and pushed open the door ; of 1 that spacious apartment. A big form, with a bluewhite face, and a spreading broom-like beard, lay on the bed. 'I must leave you now, dear, for a little while. You are quite comfortable, aren't you?' asked. Sister Lucy, gently, of her patient. - : ,.;i, -,- . : '■■'.., (The Sisters, in their simplicity, had the habit of calling everyone who was seriously ill, ' ■ dear, I have

known a mitred abbot who was nursed by them, and who told me that the term of affection served him as a temperature chart. When his temperature was dangerously high, he was addressed as ‘ dear ’; when it became normal he was ‘ your lordship ’!) Apparently, there was no answer to Sister Lucy’s question. ‘He has just drunk some milk. There is nothing for you to do but to see he doesn’t talk too much. He is rather feverish, poor dear,’ murmured the Sister, as she left the room.

Caterina sat down, feeling rather frightened. The man lay staring at her in silence until she thought she must scream. Forgetting Sister Lucy’s instructions, she plunged into conversation. ‘ Where do you come from? You are a foreigner, 1 aren’t you?’ she asked.

! Yes, I come from Subiaco way,' he answered, I still gazing at her. ■J■•:.. 'Well, what are you staring at?' she asked, tossing her head. She was used to being stared at by her admirers, •but this man's steady gaze was not so nattering. ' I've seen you before, but I can't remember where. Do you ever go up to the Capuccini.' Of course. I go to confession every fortnight to Fra Bernardino,' said Caterina, crossly, as if he ought to have known this interesting fact. Silence again. 'Don't lie there staring. Talk about something. Tell me your name.' ' Angel Formaggio.' 'How funny! Fancy being called 'cheese.' I wouldn't be called that for anything,' cried Caterina, giggling. . •■; ' • The way in which she tossed back her head, opened lier mouth, and showed her splendid, even white teeth, awoke the man's memory. . . - 1 1 know where I saw you. It was at the Villa Mondragone, this spring,' he said, slowly. ' Oh, were you there ? Do you know Francesco Trento?' she asked, blushing.vividly. The man did not reply. He lay looking at her for a moment, and then he said in a cold voice: ' Oh, so you are Signorina Caterina, are you? I've often wanted to have a word with you.' 'Oh! what about V asked Caterina, opening her eyes. ! The man smiled for the first time, and Caterina thought it was a very disagreeable smile. : - J " I've often wanted to ask you if you knew what he lijved on.' Caterina jumped up. ' Now, you know, you are getting feverish, and the Sister said you were not to talk,' she said in a frightened voice. ' Then I will not tell you what Francesco said about you last Saturday night. Very well, then, Signorina, we will not talk.' ! 'Oh,, but I want to know what he said,' cried Caterina eagerly, sitting down again. j ' I met him coming back from work. It was payday, you know, only he does not get paid so much as W(| bricklayers, because ours is skilled labor—' j 'I know all about that. Tell me what he said about me,' said Caterina, impatiently. I J You must not hurry a sick man, Signorina, he might get'feverish, you know,' he said, with another malicious smile." ; | | Oh, do get on,' said Caterina, crossly. I 'Well, we met a few comrades, and they proposed a kittle festa at the Tratoria del Sole, such as we often ha*e when pay-day comes round. Well, Francesco said he J would not come, for he had no money to soend on eatimg and drinking. The comrades thought he was a me|an sort of fellow ' J. 'So he is, dreadfully mean!' interrupted Caterina, eagerly. " iThe man looked at her. There was such contempt as eyes that she trembled. He reallv was a most greeable, strange man, and she wished with all her 't that Sister Lucy would finish her meditation, and e back.

‘ You greedy, selfish child said the man, ‘Do you know what Francisco lives on, while you are flaunting in your finery ? A few figs, a little spring water, is all he can afford. A plate of macaroni once a week is all he can afford, because his pretty Caterina must have her pretty ornaments to suit her pretty face. Why, the man starves himself. I suppose you think him a dull fellow because he doesn’t smoke or drink, or waste his time sitting over a cup of coffee with the rest of us ?

Fortunately, he did not wait for an answer, for that was exactly what Caterina did think. * ‘ I question whether he ever has enough to eat/ the man went on.

‘ Francesco not have enough to eat!’ - cried Caterina. Her childish heart was very vain, but very warm. ‘Not have enough to eat!’ Her eyes filled with tears. ' ‘ He went almost without food for a week to buy you that flowered scarf.’ ‘ Oh, no, I don’t believe it. Don’t say such dreadful things/ she said. ‘ I haven’t told you what he said last Saturday, yet, have I?'

‘What was it ? Something horrid, I suppose??’ Well, I told him he looked as if a good meal would do him good, and he only answered, “ Don’t bother about me, old friend. You don’t know what it is to love the most beautiful girl ’ ■‘ Beautiful! He said I was beautiful?’ cried Caterina. ‘And you say he goes without his meals?’ Then she burst into tears. At this unlucky moment Sister Lucy must needs finish her meditation and come back,. ‘Dio!’ she exclaimed, ‘What are you doing, Caterina? What do you mean, upsetting the patient like this? Please go away at once. Oh,, and there’s a little boy with his mother asking for you.’ So Peppino had come back? Why had she sent him? How coiild she dream that Francesco starved himself, and said she was beautiful. But it was too late now! Peppino and Peppino’s mother were in the garden talking to Sister Elizabeth. Peppino presented an appearance which it would not be polite to describe in detail. He had evidently been severely knocked about; the intelligent reader can guess what he looked like. Sister Elizabeth gently wiped his streaming face. ‘Come with me, dear, and let me bind up that poor hand,’ she said kindly. Sending a child of that age that way alone,’ continued the woman, who had evidently been enjoying a lengthy and spirited monologue. t What is the matter?’ asked Caterina in dismay. ‘ What is the matter? What did you think would be the matter? What do you mean sending him all that way ’ .‘ 1 S ave him six maritozzi for going,’ said. Caterina quickly. es > ll P se^n ff stomach with unwholesome rood ! . Unwholesome maritozzi, unwholesome! You might know those boys would never let him go by with them in his hand!’ J

‘Those boys! Who?’ ~ Why, that Antonio and that sister of his, and all that crew. They met the poor child, and when he wouldn t give them some they knocked him down and sat on him while they ate the lot. And here’s the poor child half dead, and all your fault.’ ... ’ ‘ Oh, no, Signora, it’s not quite so bad as that,’ is it Peppino ? Besides, you know, Signora, he might have given them one, I think, especially as they are so unwholesome, and would upset his stomach/ said Sister Elizabeth, rather maliciously. ‘ You know nothing about it, Sister. How can maliSly 6 onl - a foreigner ’’ rep ' ied the w.J . But, Peppino, where is the letter?’ asked Catenna, in a tone of acute anxiety. ‘She tore it up into little bits while they sat on me/ moaned the messenger. 011 Caterina’s face cleared as if by magic Dio sia benedetto! ’ she cried ‘Dear Peppino,

don’t cry , any more. I’m not a bit angry about it. I think you were very brave, and to-morrow I will give you some more maritozzi—if your mother will let you eat such unwholesome things,’ she added, with an indignant glance at that worthy, who was suddenly seized with a fit of deafness. *

Fra Bernardino, coming to visit the sick man, smiled kindly at the group as he passed, and stopped to console the wounded warrior.

‘Well, my, child, when is the wedding to be?’ he asked Caterina.

‘ Very soon now, padre,’ she replied smiling.-— lrish Rosary.