The Argosy — page 301: what you’re looking at

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

280 \Manionettes. piazza, he remembered having heard of a deed of kindness which Signor Cessi had performed; and taking courage at this had mounted the steps, with but a faint hope in his heart that he might find him in the studio. He was not disappointed. A little handful of silver was made up between the two artists, enough for that day’s neces- sities, and more was promised ; and then came a glorious promise for the future. ‘‘T,” said Signor Cessi, “ will paint a drop-scene for your Marion- ettes, which shall bring all Florence to see it. And you, Tonio, shal} help me. We will have a composition of yours in the centre. Yes; one of those mythological subjects you are so fond of; and I will paint the border.” So Luigi went away comforted and grateful; carrying with him, what is most precious to a human soul—hope, where such a little while before reigned despair. | The hot season has passed ; the first gracious rain in September has fallen and cooled the thirsty, burning ground ; the large purple grapes have swelled and ripened, and the vintage has come. ‘Through the land there is a sound of rejoicing. Everywhere the grass and flowers are springing up. ‘The days are exquisite, the atmosphere is clear as crystal, the heavens a most lovely blue, the sunshine golden. The sweet breezes which stir the vine leaves seem to call on everyone to come forth and be glad. Then when the sun, a golden globe, sinks behind the purple mountains, the stars shine out, and the night seems even more beautiful than the day. A rumour has run through Florence, gaining ground each day. Signor Cessi, that pearl among artists, has painted a masterpiece = roses more lovely than any that have ever glowed upon canvas: and@ they are to be seen in the course of a day or two, on the drop-scene of the humble stage of the Marionettes ! ‘Where and when ?” ask the multitude of idlers. And these ques- tions are repeated and answered until there are crowds waiting for the opening night, when this marvellous work of art is first to be placed before the public. At last the day arrives. ‘The little open space before the theatre is packed by dark heads. Some of them have been waiting for hours. There is a murmur of expectation on every side ; you hear the name repeated of Signor Cessi. You hear it in spite of the loud beating of the drum. At last the door is opened, the people pour in, a continual stream. It seems that in an instant the little theatre is crammed. -Even the doorway is crowded. Yes, there it hangs, resplendent, glorious. No words can describe the beauty of the flowers ; they twine up on each side, and hang down again in lovely clusters. You could put out your hand and pluck those roses fresh with dew. ‘The picture in the middle is full of merit, the composition is capital, and the execution all that could be desired ; but it is on the roses alone that everyone’s eyes are fixed. CORNICE OOOKS (EO) m