GEMS AND REPTILES.

373

anything so beautiful!" and she tore it from the child's sprinkled the drops in her face. Blanch knew she had head, and held it to the light where it did look truly felt wrong, and she shed tears of penitence—they were exquisite, for every little leaf, and bud, and flower, was made up of innumerable small gems of the purest water.

"Come in, child, and tell me all about it."

Blanch did tell every word, for there was something within, that told her she ought to tell the truth, and the whole truth. Sometimes her aunt laughed, and sometimes she frowned, but when she came to that part, where the lady would have given her fine clothes, and a coach to ride in, her cousin called her "a poor, mean spirited fool-so then you only asked to be good, you precious little fool, did you?" she said scornfully.

The tears came into Blanch's eyes, and fell upon her

lap.

"What is that rolling about your lap ?" said Adeline. "I never saw such tears before; they don't soak in;" and the heartless girl shook them upon the floor. Sure enough they rolled away, clear, brilliant diamonds,

large as peas.

Adeline laughed and scrabbled after them, and told Blanch to "cry away;" she liked such tears. But the little girl laughed as well as her cousin, and scrabbled too for the diamonds, it made her feel so happy to see smiling faces.

pearls.

"Come, Blanch," said Adeline, "take the pitcher, and I will go down to the well with you-I like the for than you did.” lady's gifts vastly; and shall know better what to ask

little bare feet, lightly over the stones and brambles; The child did as she was bid, stepping, with her and prattling all the way about the beauty, and dress of the lady, and wondering she had never seen her but once.

When they came to the fountain, all was still; the waters looked clear and cool, and they peered down,

down, but nothing was to be seen, but white stones,

rounded by the water flowing over them, and the small fish darting about in the sunshine. They sat down upon the bank, hoping the lady might appear. But with a lean wrinkled face, who came from the woods, she did not-no one approached, but a little old woman, leaning heavily upon a staff, for she was bent nearly

double with age.

Both girls looked earnestly at her, till she drew near, and sunk down upon the grass beside them.

"I am faint and weary, ladies-will you give me to drink from the fountain?" said the old woman in a

"I will go down to the well, too," said Adeline, "and low, trembling voice. see if I cannot get something handsome."

She soon came back, flushed and angry; she declared there was nobody to be seen at the well, and Blanch must have found the gems and then have invented the story as an excuse for staying so long. She struck Blanch upon the shoulder, and shook her rudely.

as she was desired-but Adeline cruelly spurned her Little Blanch descended the bank instantly, to do with her foot, saying, "get up, you old hag, I wouldn't give you a drink, not I.”

a severe and searching look; and slowly rose from the The old woman glanced at the hard-hearted girl with "Don't be angry, cousin, you shall have all the pret-lean face became soft and round; the bent form erect ground. The old staff became a wand of ivory-the ty stones," cried the child, offering those she had picked up.

But she had no sooner opened her mouth to speak, than pearls, and diamonds, and all precious stones fell therefrom, and rolled upon the floor, and flashed, and sparkled in the sunlight, till the room seemed all paved with jewels.

For many days Adeline said nothing further about going to the well, for both she and her mother were so occupied in fastening the gems upon their dresses, that they had no time even to scold poor little Blanch; and she was now the happiest child in the world-she smiled, and sang all day, and was so attentive to all the wants of her aunt and cousin, that she seemed to know what was desired even before they spake. She wished, in the guilelessness of her young heart, that she only had a whole mine of jewels to give them, so thankful did she feel for gentle words and kind looks. It was soon found, that jewels came from the mouth of Blanch, only when she returned a gentle reply to the harshness of others—her tears were gems only when they were tears of compassion or of sorrow.

Adeline was making a lily, all of pearls-she hadn't quite enough to finish it. Half in earnest, half in sport, she gave Blanch a blow, saying, "Cry, child, I want some more pearls."

Blanch had never felt just so before; her face reddened, and she was about to make an angry reply, when she felt a dash of water all over her face. She stopped short, and looked about, but no one was near but Adeline. Then she thought of the sinful feeling within, and knew it must have been Fontana, that

and graceful, and the beautiful lady of the fountain tired than before, and her look more sweet and tender. stood before them. She was even more splendidly atward her. The lady took her to her bosom, and again, Dear, dear Fontana," said Blanch, springing toand again kissed her cheek; then the child heard yet everything about were full of it-again all was still— again that low, sweet melody, as if the very air, and and now the two girls stood alone by the fountain.

gone, I can hardly think I have seen anything in reality "How strange," said little Blanch, "when she is it seems so like a dream, or the pleasant thoughts I have when I am all done."

frown upon me"-she stopped short, for just then a "Pretty well, too," said Adeline; she could only small green lizard hopped from her mouth, and the terrified girls ran home fast as they could go.

Adeline struck Blanch, and said she had bewitched her; and every time she spoke, small snakes and toads darted from her mouth-then she would cry with horror and vexation, when bugs and spiders fell from her eyes.

hands, and the pearls and precious stones rolled all Poor Blanch stood by, weeping and wringing her about the room, for no one heeded them. She thought of a thousand things, but not one that had any prospect of relieving her cousin.

"Oh dear, dear, I wish Fontana were only here!" cried Blanch. She felt a slight sprinkle upon her face, and then she knew the lady must be near. Then she began to think Fontana very cruel to punish her cousin so, and wished she were only visible, and she would

374

GEMS AND REPTILES.

tell her so. All at once some one whispered close to she didn't much like his looks, and thought him not her ear, and said, half so elegant as a young servant she sometimes saw "Are not pride, and anger, and cruelty, like lizards, in the garden attempting to arrange the flowers, and and toads, and serpents?" to transplant them; but he was so awkward, spilling the earth and breaking the pots, that she couldn't keep from laughing to see him work-then the master would appear, and scold and rave, and Blanch would find her eyes filling with tears in spite of all she could do.

"Oh dear, dear, try to feel gentle, cousin Adeline; perhaps they come because you are angry."

66

Angry," cried Adeline, stamping with her feet, "isn't this enough to make any body angry? I wish I had hold of that old woman, and I would tear her all to pieces."

She one day told Adeline she thought the servant much handsomer than the master, and there was that about him, that appeared much more noble.

Adeline was indignant, and said she was no judge, and many other things that proud, love-sick girls are apt to utter-but her mother seemed much pleased with the idea; thought it might be so, and winking to her daughter declared Blanch was quite in love, and it would make an excellent match.

Blanch hadn't thought of this, and she blushed and hung down her head.

Just then a large serpent sprang from her mouth, and both her mother and Blanch ran out of the house.

Years passed away, and Blanch had become an exceedingly handsome maiden, with a skin like the embrace of the rose and lily, and eyes clear, soft and blue. She was still gentle and loving, like a little child, with a smile always ready for a cheerful look, and a tear for a sad one. Some thought it goodness alone, that made her so beautiful; others thought it the kisses of the lady of the fountain, for she still sometimes appeared, when Blanch was sad or unhappy, and spoke words of hope and consolation.

Adeline too, had grown a tall, proud girl, with large black eyes of glittering brightness, and a step like a queen. There were yet times when the reptiles sprang from the mouth of the violent girl, in her moments of pride or irritation. Sometimes amidst the splendor and triumph of a ball, she would be obliged to retire in the greatest confusion, for pride, and envy, and malice, would bring the reptiles to her throat.

Blanch still wept her pearls and spoke all sorts of precious things, and the fame of the two girls spread far and wide. Many came to see them, hoping they might witness things so very strange. But the girls didn't speak gems or reptiles just to please strangers, they came unbidden, indicating always the exact state of their hearts.

In spite of the reptiles Adeline had many suitors, for her beauty was of the noblest kind. She contrived to keep Blanch out of sight, and so obscured in old uncouth garments, that her beauty was only noted by those who observed her closely, or saw her often.

So Adeline had all the lovers, and all the company to herself; and poor Blanch wore old clothes, and worked all day for her aunt and cousin. She gave them all her jewels, and tried to make them look beautiful whenever they went to the grand balls and parties, to which they were invited; while she staid at home, and did all the work, and then got nothing in return but blows and harsh words.

At last, a gentleman commenced building a delightful little cottage close to the dwelling of the two girls. The gardens were arranged with the greatest taste, and bowers with vines and shrubbery of every kind, and ponds filled with fish, and brooks with rustic bridges thrown over them, made all seem the work of enchant

ment.

Adeline did nothing but arrange her dress and jewels, and play upon her harp close to the window where the stranger directed the laborers; and when he would look up and smile, or present her flowers, she was goodnatured all day.

Every day now her aunt and cousin tried to throw her in the way of the young servant, and even were at some pains to dress her and arrange her hair, that she might look becoming. Adeline, it is true, was too much occupied with the master to pay much attention to the affairs of the servant, only so far as to encourage his advances, for she thought this a fine way to dispose of her poor cousin, by degrading her into a marriage with a menial.

In this way, though Blanch was much talked of, to love me-and when you smile I am quite happy." very few had seen her.

There was a rustling in the bushes-Fontana had disappeared, and the young servant stood beside her.

Blanch, hardly knowing what she did, darted away, but the stranger seized her hand, and begged she would stay just for a moment.

"I know you are unhappy, Blanch; I have often seen you weep, and even now, I heard you say there was no one to love you. I love you, Blanch, more than I can express-"

His voice trembled, and he pressed her fingers to his lips. Blanch looked up, and the kind, earnest look of the stranger, and the gentle tones of his voice so wrought upon her young heart, all unused as it had been to kindness and sympathy, that she covered her eyes with her hand, and burst into tears.

They were not pearls; they were the natural tears of a young and trusting heart.

Blanch was delighted, and tried very hard to make her cousin look beautiful; and did just as she was bid, which was to keep out of sight of the strange gentleBlanch thought it an easy matter to do this, for

man.

Poor Blanch was greatly distressed at all this manœuvring, and grew every day more pale and gentle, and a great deal more beautiful too; for love always softens, as well as exalts the style of beauty.

She sometimes wished she had never seen him, for she couldn't help looking through the lattice where the vines grew thickly, to see him at his work among the flowers, and he would sometimes look up, too, and she was certain he was growing pale and melancholy; and she thought it not unlikely that he might be in love with her cousin Adeline, and growing sad because there could be no hope for him. And Blanch wept in holy compassion for the poor, young servant.

So she took her pitcher in her hand, and went down to the fountain. She wept a long time, she could hardly tell why. Fontana came and kissed her cheek, and wiped her tears with gossamer muslin. Blanch saw that she smiled faintly, and looked quite sad, so she tried to talk of pleasant things.

"How I love you, Blanch," said Fontana; "you must have all you desire. What shall I do for you?" "Smile upon me, dear Fontana; there is no one else

DISCOVERY OF DANTE'S PORTRAIT.

All at once she remembered that her cousin was waiting for the water; and disengaging her hand she ran home, leaving, in her agitation, the pitcher at the fountain.

When she reached the house, both aunt and cousin were at the door, angry at her long absence-for the stranger of the cottage had that very morning made proposals of marriage, and Adeline was impatient to arrange her toilet in the most captivating style.

"Where is the pitcher, you idling hussy?" they both cried in a breath.

what right you order my house to be searched."
The aunt rose in great rage. "I demand, sir, by
"The right that the king has over the lives and pro-
majesty. Then removing the plumed cap, and velvet
perty of his subjects," replied the stranger with great
cloak, the young servant of the new cottage stood be-
fore them. Every head was uncovered, and every
knee bent in the presence of the king. Adeline and
her mother turned pale. The king went on.

"The fame of the goodness and beauty of Blanch had reached even to our palace, and I came here dis

"I left it at the well,” replied Blanch, trembling, and guised as a servant, that I might learn the truth. I blushing.

"Left it at the well!" said Adeline, striking her on the face.

Blanch hesitated, but she felt the drops upon her face, and knew she ought to confess the truth. So she

told all.

Adeline's anger gave way to the triumph of malice, for she was delighted to think Blanch would marry the servant of her own husband. So while she talked, the toads and snakes sprang from her mouth, but the family were so used to them, that they took no notice of them.

Poor Blanch only covered her face with her hands, while the pearls fell from between her fingers, and dropped among the grass at the threshold.

At this moment the young servant appeared at the door, bearing the pitcher of water; and he looked as if he knew just what it meant, when he saw the pearls and reptiles all about.

find the half has not been told me, and I have now come to claim her for my bride."

Blanch. Aunt and daughter tried to suppress their
The servants returned, but could find nothing of
exultation.

appeared leading in Blanch, pale and trembling, but
At this moment the door softly opened, and Fontana
more beautiful than ever.
the most magnificent material, and diamonds glittered
She was dressed in robes of
upon her brow and girdle, and pearls encircled her arms
and neck.

king, who knelt to receive it, while the fair girl blush-
Fontana laid the hand of Blanch within that of the
ed and cast down her eyes.

rewarded even in this life."
"Thus," said the lady, "are the good sometimes

"I leave you to the punishment prepared in your own
Then turning to Adeline and her mother, she said,
ture more than the fiends of darkness."
hearts-to the envy, and malice, and hatred, that tor-

servant of the king, performed the ceremony for Blanch,
The same priest, who had married Adeline to the
and her royal lover.

For many days nothing was seen of the young stranger, and poor Blanch grew quite pale and dispirited. Adeline was in high spirits, she ridiculed Blanch, teased and scolded her all in a breath, and then when she wept, she laughed, and said she should have the more jewels for her bridal. Blanch disliked Ade-heard again that sweet, low melody, as the beautiful Fontana pressed the bride to her bosom, and Blanch line's lover more and more every day; for though she thought he might be rich, he seemed low-bred and vulgar, and as ignorant as any dolt about. And then he was so loaded with finery he must at the very best be a conceited coxcomb. But as long as her cousin was pleased she had no right to say a word.

The day for Adeline's marriage arrived, and after Blanch had dressed her cousin, and done all the work she could do, before the arrival of the guests, her aunt took her and thrust her down into an old cellar, half filled with mire and water, that she might not be seen by any of the company.

lady of the fountain disappeared.

and good, when she became a queen. Her subjects We need not say that Blanch was gentle, and loving, almost adored her, and the king used playfully to say, "They were dutiful subjects to him, only from love to his wife."

cousin happy, and even sent for them to court; but Blanch did all in her power to make her aunt and their evil dispositions produced so much disorder that the king banished them to the cottage he had built beside their old dwelling. Blanch often wept for them, and sent them many proofs of her kindness and remembrance.

DISCOVERY OF DANTE'S PORTRAIT.

Adeline look splendidly, with her proud beauty, and magnificent attire. The ceremony was just over, when they all heard the sound of carriage wheels and the trampling of horses. The bridegroom looked from the window, and was the first to go out and kneel to the stranger. All was awe and amazement. The guests the Knickerbocker two or three years ago, giving a An article from Washington Irving was published in had just time to observe the splendor of the carriage, very interesting account of the discovery of a lost porand the rich livery of the servants, and the six snow-trait of the poet Dante, which was effected by our white steeds, when a gentleman richly dressed in velvet and cloth of gold, entered the room.

"Where is Blanch ?" he inquired, looking sternly round.

countryman R. H. Wilde of Georgia, himself a poet, as is well proved by a single fragment,

"My life is like the summer rose," &c. While Mr. Wilde was in Tuscany, it was mentioned to Bargello, anciently both the prison and palace of the rehim that "there once and probably still existed in the publican authentic portrait of Dante," and while search

"Blanch is dead," replied the aunt solemnly. "Dead?" repeated the stranger, turning pale, while the bridegroom stared with astonishment. "Dead!" he again repeated, "it cannot be; ho, here, ing for some of the particulars respecting the poet, to search the house," he cried to his servants.

which he was led by the contradictory accounts of many The bridegroom would have gone too, but Adeline incidents of his life, "he revolved in his mind the poshaughtily detained him. sibility that this precious relic might remain undestroy

ed under its coat of white-wash, and might be restored with a book under his arm, designed most probably to to the world."

represent the "Vita Nuova," for the "Comedia" was

Mr. Irving gives the following curious account of not yet composed, and to all appearance from thirty to the discovery of the portrait.

thirty-five years of age. The face was in profile, and in excellent preservation, excepting that at some former period a nail had unfortunately been driven into the eye. The outline of the eyelid was perfect, so that the injury may be easily remedied. The countenance was extremely handsome, yet bore a strong resemblance to the portraits of the poet, taken later in life.

"For a moment he felt an impulse to undertake the enterprize; but feared that, in a foreigner from a new world, any part of which is unrepresented at the Tuscan court, it might appear like an intrusion. He soon however found a zealous coadjutor. This was one Giovanni Aubrey Bezzi, a Piedmontese exile, who had long been a resident in England, and was familiar with its language and literature. He was now on a visit to Florence, which liberal and hospitable city is always open to men of merit, who for political reasons have been excluded from other parts of Italy. Signor Bezzi partook deeply of the enthusiasm of his countrymen for the memory of Dante, and sympathized with Mr. Wilde in his eagerness to retrieve if possible the lost portrait. They had several consultations as to the means to be adopted to effect their purpose, without incurring the charge of undue officiousness. To lessen any objections that might occur, they resolved to ask for nothing but permission to search for the fresco painting at their own expense; and should any remains of it be found, then to propose to the nobility and gentry of Florence an association for completing the undertaking, and effectually recovering the lost por-ed certainly the original. Several artists of high ta

trait.

It is not easy to appreciate the delight of Mr. Wilde and his coadjutors at this triumphant result of their researches; nor the sensation produced, not merely in Florence but throughout Italy, by this discovery of a veritable portrait of Dante, in the prime of his days. It was some such sensation as would be produced in England by the sudden discovery of a perfectly well authenticated likeness of Shakspere; with a difference in intensity proportioned to the superior sensitiveness of the Italians.

The recovery of the portrait of the "divine poet," has occasioned fresh inquiry into the origin of the masks said to have been made from a cast of his face taken after death. One of these masks, in the possession of the Marquess of Torrigiani, has been pronounc

lent have concurred in this opinion; among these may be named Jesi, the first engraver in Florence; Seymour Kirkup, Esq., a painter and antiquary; and our own countryman Powers, whose genius, by the way, is very highly appreciated by the Italians."

COLLECTING.

THE Knickerbocker tells the following humorous and amusing story:

For the same reason the formal memorial addressed to the Grand Duke was drawn up in the name of Florentines: among whom were the celebrated Bartolini, now President of the School of Sculpture in the Imperial and Royal Academy, Signor Paolo Ferroni, of the noble family of that name, who has exhibited considerable talent for painting, and Signor Gasparini, also an artist. The petition was urged and supported with indefatigable zeal by Signor Bezzi; and being warmly countenanced by Count Nerli and other funcA gentleman from New York, who had been in Bostionaries, met with more prompt success than had ton for the purpose of collecting some money due him been anticipated. Signor Marini, a skilful artist, who in that city, was about returning, when he found that had succeeded in similar operations, was now employ-one bill of one hundred dollars had been overlooked. ed to remove the white-wash by a process of his own, by which any fresco painting that might exist beneath would be protected from injury. He set to work patiently and cautiously. In a short time he met with evidence of the existence of the fresco. From under the coat of white-wash the head of an angel gradually made its appearance, and was pronounced to be by the pencil of Giotto.

The enterprize was now prosecuted with increased ardor. Several months were expended on the task, and three sides of the chapel wall were uncovered; they were all painted in fresco by Giotto, with the his tory of the Magdalen, exhibiting her conversion, her penance, and her beatification. The figures, however, were all those of saints and angels: no historical portraits had yet been discovered, and doubts began to be entertained whether there were any. Still the recovery of an indisputable work of Giotto's was considered an ample reward for any toil; and the Ministers of the Grand Duke, acting under his directions, assumed on his behalf the past charges and future management of the enterprize.

His landlord, who knew the debtor, thought it a “doubtful case;" but added, that if it was collectable at all, a tall, raw-boned Yankee, then dunning a lodger in another part of the room, would "annoy it out of the man." Calling him up, therefore, he introduced him to the creditor, who showed him the account.

"Wal, 'Square, 'taint much use tryin', I guess. I know that critter. You might as well try to squeeze ile out of Bunker Hill monument as to c'lect a debt o' him. But any how, what'll you give s'pos'n I do try?" "Well, sir, the bill is one hundred dollars. I'll give you-yes, I'll you half, if you collect it." "Greed!" replied the collector; "there's no harm in tryin', any ways."

Some weeks after, the creditor chanced to be in Boston, and in walking up Tremont street, encountered his enterprizing friend.

"Look'e here!" said he, "I had considerable luck with that bill of your'n. You see I stuck to him like a dog to a root, but for the first week or so 'twant no use-not a bit! If he wasn't at home, he was short; if he was at home, I could get no satisfaction. By and bye, says I, after going sixteen times, I'll fix you; sol sot down on the door step, and sot all day and part of the evenin'; and begun airly next day; but about ten o'clock he gin in. He paid me my half and I gin him

At length, on the uncovering of the fourth wall, the undertaking was crowned with complete success. A number of historical figures were brought to light, and among them the undoubted likeness of Dante. He was represented in full length, in the garb of the time, I up the note."

THE THAW-KING'S VISIT TO NEW YORK.