The Argosy — page 329: what you’re looking at

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

308 Margaret’s Frenzy. ‘* Alas! next year there will be no Herbert,” I thought, regret- fully. An ill-assorted pair of steeds attached to an antiquated vehicle took us and the poor baby back to Pieve at an irritating jog-trot. I didn’t care whether Titian was born there, or born at all, for that matter, and I vouchsafed hardly a glance at his house as we passed. I was too downcast and disappointed (though I strove to conceal my feelings from Margaret) even to feel amusement at the ridiculous errand upon which we had come. It was as Margaret feared; the black box containing the violin had been taken by mistake from the diligence, received and wept over as holding the defunct baby: and as such had been buried, with an accompaniment of wax tapers and dyed immortelles, the previous afternoon. Our story collected about us what seemed to be the whole village, open-eyed, open-mouthed; and these features, when Italian, can accomplish wondrous flashing and chattering under excitement. The veritable baby was followed to the churchyard by a procession which would have delighted the soul of its mother, could the poor woman have seen it. After Margaret and I had undergone, from judicial authority, a fire of cross-questioning, beginning with the maiden name of our respective mothers, and ending with our opinion of Tyrolean scenery, the men we had engaged were allowed to raze the little mound which covered Margaret’s treasure. As the grave was opened, a great many blue linen aprons were pressed to fine dark eyes, sobs broke from linen-covered bosoms hung with chains of more or less claims to sterling worth, and heads wreathed in black braids thrust through with silver pins, bobbed to and fro with emotion. ‘This exhibition of sentiment seemed out of place over the remains of a fiddle, but it was easier for the peasant women to weep over a grave, as was their wont, than to discriminate. The box was taken out, and even Margaret admitted that the violin appeared to be uninjured. We watted while they buried the poor little baby: and I think our offering of a big bunch of garden roses raised us to the rank of royalty in the estimation of the simple folk of Pieve. Three months later, when our Tyrolean trip was of the past, and lessons had begun again in Munich, Uncle Robert wrote me bitter news. Madge Laurie was engaged to Mr. Herbert Stacey, a very agreeable fellow whom they had met in Venice. I thereupon gave the mendacious holly-wood bear to Gretchen, our chambermaid, and told Leonard he might walk home with me from the lectures on Perspective. He need never know that I use him as salve to patch my broken heart. CORMICMHOOKS EO)