A Venetian June

Anna Fuller

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The Project Gutenberg eBook, A Venetian June, byAnna Fuller, Illustrated by Frederick S. CoburnThis eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and withalmost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away orre-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License includedwith this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.orgTitle: A Venetian JuneAuthor: Anna FullerRelease Date: December 14, 2007 [eBook #23859]Language: EnglishCharacter set encoding: ISO-8859-1***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A VENETIAN JUNE***E-text prepared by Mark C. Orton, Barbara Kosker, Linda McKeown,and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team(http://www.pgdp.net) book coverBy Anna FullerA Literary CourtshipA Venetian JunePeak and PrairiePratt PortraitsLater Pratt PortraitsOne of the PilgrimsKatherine DayA Bookful of GirlsThe Thunderhead LadyBy Anna Fuller and Brian ReadMay watched the yacht until it disappeared from sightToList"May watched the yacht until it disappeared from sight"title pageAVenetianJuneByAnna FullerWith 16 Illustrations in Colorby Frederick S. CoburnNew York & LondonG. P. Putnam's SonsThe Knickerbocker PressCopyright, 1896byG. P. PUTNAM'S SONSCopyright, 1913byG. P. PUTNAM'S SONS23d PrintingThe Knickerbocker Press, New YorkToELENAIf from the flower of thy perfect giftOne drop of cordial be distilled, 'tis thine.ContentsCHAPTER PAGEI.— Venice 3II.— A Venetian Thoroughfare 13III.— A ...

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• Publié par: nocher
• Publié le: 08 décembre 2010
• Nombre de lectures: 34
• Langue: English

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A Literary Courtship A Venetian June Peak and Prairie Pratt Portraits Later Pratt Portraits One of the Pilgrims Katherine Day A Bookful of Girls The Thunderhead Lady By Anna Fuller and Brian Read

By Anna Fulre

oList

book cover

May watched the yacht until it disappeared from sight "May watched the yacht until it disappeared from sight"

T

tilte page

A Venetian June

By Anna Fuller

With 16 Illustrations in Color by Frederick S. Coburn

New York & London G. P. Put nam's Sons The Knickerbocker Press

Copyright , 1896 by G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS

Copyright , 1913 by G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS

23d Print ing

The Knickerbocker Press, New York

n in a Sd a Womagn ,tSoonoR iail

PAGE 3 13 25 37 49 65 87 109 129 145 163 179 197 219 239 253 269 285 301

Contents

CHAPTER   I.—Venice II.—A Venetian Thoroughfare III.—A Pair of Pollys IV—A Reverie . V.—The Signora VI.—A Festa VII.—Gathering Poppies VIII.—The Pulse of the Sea IX.—By-ways of Venice X —A Benediction .   XI.—At Torcello XII.—A Promotion XIII.—Illuminations XIV.—A Summer's Day XV.—June Roses XVI.—A Surrender XVII.—The Serenata XVIII.—Search-Lights XIX.—"Decus Et Praesidium"

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To ELENA If from the flower of thy perfect gift One drop of cordial be distilled, 'tis thine.

Illustrations

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"Si, Signore!" The gondola stirred gently, as with a long, quiet breath, and a moment later it had pushed its way out from among the thronging craft at the steps of the railway quay, and was gliding with its own leisurely motion across the sunlit expanse of the broad Canal. As the prow of the slender black bark entered a narrow side-canal and pursued its way between frowning walls and under low arched bridges,—as the deep resonant cry of the gondolier rang out, and an answer came like an echo from the hidden recesses of a mysterious watery crossway, the spirit of Venice drew near to the three travellers, in whose minds its strange and exquisite suggestion was received with varying susceptibility. To Pauline Beverly, sitting enthroned among the gondola cushions, this was the fulfilment of a dream, and she accepted it with unquestioning delight; her sister May, at the bar of whose youthful judgment each wonder of Europe was in turn a petitioner for approval, bestowed a far more critical attention upon the time-worn palaces and the darkly doubtful water at their base; while to Uncle Dan, sitting stiffly upright upon the little one-armed chair in front of them, Venice, though a regularly recurrent experience, was also a memory,—a memory fraught with some sort of emotion, if one might judge by the severe indifference which the old soldier brought to bear upon the situation. Colonel Steele was never effusive, yet a careful observer might have detected in his voice and manner, as he gave his orders to the gondolier, the peculiar cut-and-dried quality which he affected when he was afraid of being found out. Careful observers are, however, rare, and we may be sure that on their first day in Venice his two companions had other things to think of than the unobtrusive moods of a life-long uncle. Suddenly the gondola swung out again upon the Grand Canal, a little below the Rialto bridge, and again all was light and life and movement. Steamboats plied up and down with a great puffing and snorting and a swashing about of the water, gondolas and smaller craft rising and falling upon their heaving wake; heavily laden barges, propelled by long poles whose wielders walked with bare brown feet up and down the gunwale in the performance of their labour, progressed slowly and stolidly, never yielding an inch in their course to the importunities of shouting gondolier or shrieking steam-whistle. Here the light shell of a yellow sandolo shot by, there a black-hooded gondola crept in and out among the more impetuous water-folk. Over yonder the stars-and-stripes floated from a slim black prow, a frank, outspoken note of colour that had its own part to play among the quieter yet richer hues of the scene. It was like an instantaneous transition from twilight to broad day, from the remote past to the busy present, whose children, even in Venice, must be fed and clothed and transported from place to place. Between frowning walls and low-arched bridges "Between frowning walls and low-arched bridges"

I Venice

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"Yes, that is the Rialto," said Uncle Dan, rousing to the contemplation of a good substantial fact. "It's everywhere in Venice. You're always coming out upon it, especially when you have been rowing straight away from it." "What a pity it should be all built over on top!" said May, knitting her smooth young brow, as if, forsooth, wrinkles did not come fast enough without the aid of any gratuitous concern for the taste of a by-gone century. "But just look at the glorious arch of it underneath!" cried Pauline. "Who cares what is on top? And besides," she declared, after a moment's reflection, "I like it all!" "Has Venice changed much, Uncle Dan?" asked May. "Venice?" Uncle Dan replied. "Venice doesn't change. It's the rest of us that do that!"—and just at that moment the gondola turned out of the Grand Canal into another narrow, shadowy water-way. Here and there, above the dark current, a bit of colour caught the eye; a pot of geranium on a window-ledge; a pair of wooden shutters painted pink; a blue apron hung out to dry. On a stone bridge, leaning against the iron railing, stood a woman in a sulphur shawl, gazing idly at the approaching gondola. Scarlet, pink, blue, sulphur—how these unrelated bits of colour were blended and absorbed in the pure poetry of the picture!

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On a stone bridge, leaning against the iron railing, stood a woman in a sulphur shawl "On a stone bridge, leaning against the iron railing, stood a woman in a sulphur shawl"

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As if to refute this cautious statement, the gondola quietly glided out again upon the Grand Canal, in full face of a great white dome, rising superbly from a sculptured marble octagon against a radiant sky. Sky and dome and sculptured figure, each cast its image deep down in the tranquil waters at its base, where, as it chanced, no passing barge or steamboat was shivering it to fragments. "Ah!" said Pauline, with inarticulate eloquence. "That is the Salute," Uncle Dan remarked; while May wondered how she liked it. Half-a-dozen strokes of the oar brought them in among the tall, shielding posts, close alongside the steps of the Venezia the hotel porter handed the young ladies from the gondola, the Colonel paused to have a word with the. As gondolier. The man was standing, hat in hand, keeping the oar in gentle motion to counteract the force of the tide, which was setting strongly seaward. "Si, Signore!" he answered. "Why!" May exclaimed, "I had forgotten all about the man!"

II

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