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Updated: June 1, 2025
Any one who had not seen him since he parted from the son of his early New England friend would have observed that he looked older and more careworn; but his daughters, accustomed to see him daily, had not noticed the gradual change. "You have kept us waiting a little, Papasito," said Rosabella, turning round on the music-stool, and greeting him with a smile.
Would n't it be wonderful to have a winged page? Besides, he will be a playmate for Rosabella." So the King gave the charcoal-burner and his wife fifty pieces of bright gold, which pleased them very much, and the charcoal-burner himself lifted the bird-boy up in his arms, and placed him on the King's saddle.
It was a lovely picture to see the children building toy castles on the floor of the nursery in the castle tower, the sun streaming on the black-brown hair and silver white wings of the little boy, and on the golden curls of Rosabella. Twelve years passed. The bird-boy grew into a handsome lad; Rosabella into the loveliest of princesses. Twice had the bird-boy saved Rosabella's life.
Rosabella was too ill to receive her suitor's visits, and he did not allow her much time to recover her health; for six days after his arrival at Venice the Prince was found murdered in a retired part of one of the public gardens. His sword lay by him unsheathed and bloody; his tablets were gone, but one leaf had been torn from them and fastened on his breast.
"Better?" stammered the deceiver, with a feeble voice, "better oh, yes, yes, yes. You you are the Doge's niece the noble Rosabella of Corfu?" "The same, my good old man." "Oh, lady, I have somewhat to tell you. Be on your guard, Start not! What I would say is of the utmost consequence, and demands the utmost prudence. Ah, God, that there should live men so cruel! Lady, your life is in danger."
Dora wanted it to be something to make the complexion of dazzling fairness, but we remembered how her face came all red and rough when she used the Rosabella soap that was advertised to make the darkest complexion fair as the lily, and she agreed that perhaps it was better not.
Before she could finish the sentence, Flora started up, and flew into the adjoining room. A short, quick cry, "O Floracita!" "O Rosabella!" and they were locked in each other's arms. After hugging and kissing, and weeping and laughing by turns, Mrs. King said: "That must have been Madame's parrot. The sight of her made me think of old times, and I said, 'Bon jour, jolie Manon!
Floracita had just been reading in a French paper about the performance of La Bayadere, and she longed to see the ballet brought out in Paris. Rosabella thought nothing could be quite so romantic as to float on the canals of Venice by moonlight and listen to the nightingales; and she should so like to cross the Bridge of Sighs!
Then such huggings and kissings, such showers of French from Madame, and of mingled French and Italian from the Signor, while Tulee stood by, throwing up her hand, and exclaiming, "Bless the Lord! bless the Lord!" The parrot listened with ear upturned, and a lump of sugar in her claw, then overtopped all their voices with the cry of "Bon jour, Rosabella! je suis enchantée."
And when we get to France, Papasito will go everywhere with us. He says he will." "I should like to hear operas and see ballets in Paris," said Rosabella; "but I wish we could come back here before long." Floracita's laughing eyes assumed the arch expression which rendered them peculiarly bewitching, and she began to sing, "Petit blanc, mon bon frère! Ha! ha! petit blanc si doux!
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