The Argosy — page 291: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

274 A Freak of Fortune. “ Let us visit the mummies !” and then, without further explanation, having produced a key from her capacious pocket, led the way to her lumber-room. This rwmpel-kammer,as she termed it, in her cosmo- politan language, was a place where indeed many things were in a rumple. What a confusion it was! Medicine-bottles, books of devotion, crucifixes, rosaries, portmanteaus, dressing-cases, a German zither, top- boots, saddles, extra bedding, and no end of crockery, old and new. She made her way with difficulty through all this confused lumber to an antique Moorish coffer, lifted the lid, and said, “ Here are the mummies.” It was full of packets of letters, tied up separately, but all tossed together in the greatest confusion—old yellow letters, mostly written in faded ink, some in the delicate German character, some were French, and others Italian. ‘“‘’The correspondence chiefly of my poor Papa,” she said, with a sad smile. ‘ I’ve been making up my mind to sort them for years ; they are worth the trouble. You are methodical and patient; you’ll help me, won’t Without waiting for my assent, the signora made a sort of vigorous dive down into the box, and brought up a huge sheaf of letters; then, bidding me do the same, “as there was no time like the present,” led the way back to the saloon. | My diving into that chaos of correspondence had not been unsuc- cessful, and I was soon deep in a task which I found anything but wearisome, so curious and interesting were the very first letters and memorandums upon which I alighted. They had evidently been already arranged, most probably by the old painter himself, and dated back from the commencement of this century. One memorandum amongst others, marked 1805, in the painter’s handwriting, described the friendly reception given him by that good-natured old lady, Angelica Kauffmann, at her pleasant rooms in the Via Sistina. The next was a note, also written in Rome, by the German poet Tieck, begging for the loan of a few scudi as he and his brother the sculptor were in grievous want of money, and did not know where else to turn. Next came a letter of introduction presented by Madame de Staél. I was holding an invitation-card to the painter from Madame Buonaparte, of a still earlier date, in my hand, when a merry ringing Jaugh from my i a made me look up. “ Now I have found in this omnium gatherum,” she said, “ something racy! We’ve done very well for once. Now let us put all these letters and papers as they are into the drawer of this cabinet. It is growing dusk, and, instead of ruining our eyes, I will tell you the amusing story which this letter has brought back to my mind. It is from the father of ‘the present Zuecone, of the villa yonder, who became so great by what one may call a freak of fortune. No, you shall not look at it, though it is Gomicbooks.co