A Soldier under Garibaldi [pp. 179-190]

.4 A Soldier Under Garibaldi.
lection thrilled her for many a day.
How proudly he had said it, -this defeated soldier of a lost cause! She
thought of her own soldier and the defeated South, and her heart swelled with
something more than sympathy.
So it chanced that during subsequent
weeks Miss Agatha sometimes neglected
her household tasks for a few moments,
to have a little chat with Guiseppe. The
little woman had a queer and very unusual fashion of losing herself in the cares
and interests of others, perhaps because
it would have been too painful to herself and them to have immersed them in
the ever swelling tide of her own misfortunes. That she ieally felt the warm solicitude she expressed is but a further
proof of her deplorable eccentricity, for
everybody knows that with wellbalanced
and conventional people, the world over,
the tendency of sorrow is to breed a contempt for other's troubles and impatience with their joys.
Guiseppe, being himself of a reserved
cast, and only half thawed out of his reticence, gave but half-way confidences,
and thus it came about that Miss Agatha
learned of his little cottage on the south
side of the city, of wife and living children, and the row of little dead bambinos lying out on one of the slopes of
Calvary in the shadow of Lone Mountain, while her imagination was left to
limn and fill in the details of the picture,
a task which it accepted most readily.
She could see the neat little, cottage,
with its bare and polished floors, its
quaint tables and benches, its spotless
curtains, and the pretty, dark-eyed woman with glossy black braids bound
around her head, moving cheerfully
about her work or singing by the window.
She could see the sturdy boy and pretty
girl baby tumbling about the floor. She
could see the neat yard with its whitewashed fence, its roses, and perchance
an orange tree or two, and a row of limes,
stunted by the ocean and bay breezes,
but still brightening all the place with
their wonderful glistening greens. She
could see Guiseppe, returning early from
his day's work,-for who ever saw a scavenger on the streets after two o'clock?
makingahasty toilet at the hydrant beside
the back door, perhaps knotting a fresh
red sash about his waist to delight the
baby's eyes, and then taking his way into the house, hearty and helpful, to
lighten the little wife's labors and romp
with the brown-eyed children.
The only thing she could not understand was the dead babies. The children of these simple people always had
such a wonderful vitality, helped on by
their wholesome, primitive way of life,
that she had thought they never died.
Sometimes she led Guiseppe to speak
of Garibaldi, but here again the results
were somewhat disappointing, and imagination again had to fill out the details.
It is true, the tall fellow's eyes always
flashed at the mention of his old commander, and it was easy to see that service under such leadership had lifted
Guiseppe to a higher plane of life than
his fellows, but his reminiscences were
of the most unromantic nature.
"Garrybaldy he fina man. Alla soljas
dey be glad die for'im!" he announced
one day with enthusiasm. "Garrybaldy
he come round camp lika he alla same
common solja.'Boys,' he say,'who
gotta chaw tobaccy fo' de ole man?'"
"Yes, Madam, he ride atta head de
a'my," said Guiseppe on another occasion, as he described a famous charge
of the great revolutionary general. "An'
a pretta lookin' lot we be datta time!
Dirta an' ragged, clothes alla tear up, an'
sleep in rain and mud many day. Garrybaldy jus' dirta an' bad dressed lika
alla men. Mysefsee him bare arm stick
out hole in sleeve. Plenta street begga's down town what looka mo' gentil
as him. But he fight -he fight like diavolo!"
Guiseppe's relations with Miss Agatha were not without their material advantages to him, aside from the monthly
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