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Crawford, F. Marion (Francis Marion), 1854-1909

"Marietta A Maid of Venice"


"Yes--I believe it is clean," he answered, almost hesitating. "I cleaned
it yesterday morning."
Nella had brought the copper ladle. There were always several in the
glass-works for making tests. Marietta took it and went to the furnace,
while Nella watched her, in great fear lest she should burn herself. But
the young girl was in no danger, for she had spent half her life in the
laboratory and the garden, watching her father. She wrapped the wet
cloth round her hand and held the ladle by the end.
"We will begin with the one on the right," she said, thrusting the
instrument through the aperture.
Bringing it out with some glass in it, she supported it with both hands
as she went quickly to the iron table, and she instantly poured out the
stuff and began to watch it.
"It is just what you had the other day," she said, as the glass rapidly
cooled.
Zorzi was seated high enough to look over the table.
"Another failure," he said. "It is always the same. We have scarcely had
any variation in the tint in the last week."
"That is not your fault," answered Marietta. "We will try the next."
As if she had been at the work all her life, she chilled the ladle and
chipped off the small adhering bits of glass from it, and slipped the
last test from the table, carrying it to the refuse jar with tongs.


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