He closed his eyes contentedly and listened.
"It is early," said Anna's father. "We shall have a long time to read tonight. Shallwe hear more about the cities of Italy?"
"Yes, and about animals, too," said Anna.
Her father laughed. "Perhaps we shall meet some as we wander," he said. "Listen, now, while I tell you of Florence.
"It is a city of ancient palaces! In the days of the civil war, homes of the rich were built like fortresses. This was to protect them from the enemy. Most of these prison-like palaces still stand.
"Florence is a city of art! The famous Campanile, or bell tower, reminds us of its artist-architect, Giotto. Here is a story told about the painter when he was a peasant lad tending his father's sheep.
"One day a great artist named Cimabue paid a visit to the countryside. He was impressed by a sketch which the young shepherd had made.
"He gained the consent of Giotto's father to take his son to Florence. There he promised to teach the boy how to paint.
"So Giotto became Cimabue's apprentice, or helper. He worked hard and learned a great deal. But, like all boys, he was fun-loving. One day he played a joke upon his master.
"Cimabue had gone out, leaving in the studio an unfinished portrait of a gentleman. When he returned, there was a fly sitting upon the nose of his painting.
"He tried to brush off the fly but it would not move. He looked more closely and discovered what had happened. His mischievous young apprentice, Giotto, had painted that fly!
"The master was not angry. He enjoyed the joke and recognized the lad's skill.
"Giotto became known as the father of one of the first schools of painting.
"Florence is also a city of great men!
"One day, long ago, a nine-year-old boy named Dante went to the feast of flowers, which is celebrated every year. Here, among the beautiful blossoms, he beheld one more beautiful and sweet than all the rest.
"But this one was not a flower. She was a little maiden and her name was Beatrice.All day long Dante watched her as she played about, and never, throughout his whole life, did he forget her.
"Though they seldom met, the little girl named Beatrice was forever with Dante in his dreams. To her he wrote most of his marvelous poetry. For Dante became Italy's greatest poet!
"Florence, city of wonders!
"A legend tells that when Christ went to heaven he carried with him a cricket. So, each year, before Ascension Day, everybody buys a cricket.
"They guard their crickets most carefully. For, if one should die, misfortune befalls its owner.
"On Ascension Day a crowd gathers in the park. Here there is much gaiety, with balloons, music, and fireworks.
"At a certain time each person opens the door of his cricket's cage and frees it.
"This is an anxious moment. For, if the cricket leaps into the air, good fortune will follow the owner. But if he creeps slowly away, his poor owner will suffer bad luck.
"Of course, today few people really believe this. But they still keep up the quaint old custom.
"Florence is a grey cluster of narrow streets and dignified squares. It seems to bulge with art treasures, and it has a charm of its own.
"Near Florence, in Pisa, is the curious Leaning Tower. It is one of the Seven Wonders of the World. It seems to be toppling over. Yet it has stood this way for hundreds of years. Maybe it is tired."
Anna's father stopped reading.
"Is my little girl tired, too?" he asked. "Shall I put down the book?"
"No, no, Papa!" said Anna.
Tony, under the window wanted to answer, "No, no!" too. But, then, his opinion had not been asked.
"The next story is about Venice," continued the father.
"Once upon a time there lived in Italy a people known as the Veneti. They were not fish, yet they built a city in the water.
"Savage tribes had driven them from their land. They had no home. So they settled upon some small islands at the head of the Adriatic Sea. They called their island-city Venice.
"Fish were plentiful. They salted them and traded them for treasures of all kinds. People began to come from everywhere to buy these treasures. Venice became the most important market in Europe.
"St. Mark is the patron saint of Venice. To him the Veneti, or Venetians, have built a wonderful cathedral. In front stands the statue of a lion, the favorite animal of St. Mark.
"Four huge horses adorn the door. Though they are made of bronze, they have travelled widely. They have been moved to different places at many times.
"Inside, the cathedral is decorated with mosaics. They are made of bits of colored stone or glass fitted together.
"St. Mark's Square is the largest piece of ground in Venice. The rest is water. Streets are canals. Boatmen guide long, black boats called gondolas through these canals. They sing and cry out strange signals to other boatmen.
"In years gone by Venice, like Rome, was a world of its own. A Doge, or Duke, ruled over the city.
"Between the Doge's Palace and the prison is a bridge. Over this bridgemarched those condemned to prison by the Doge. As they marched they sighed and that is why the bridge is known as 'The Bridge of Sighs.'
"On one of the little islands live the glass blowers. Just as you blow soap bubbles, so they blow melted glass into vases and bowls. Venetian glass is famous.
"There are hundreds of pigeons flying about St. Mark's Square. While you are in Venice, you must surely allow a pigeon to sit upon your head. If you do not do this, your visit will not be complete and I am sure the pigeon will be disappointed!
"Naturally (and this is most important to the pigeon) you must put some corn on your head first. It is not your hair nor your hat which attracts him!
"Venice is a city of Dreams! And—animals!"
The father looked up from his book. Anna laughed.
"Yes, that is true," she said. "There was St. Mark's lion, the bronze horses, the pigeons, and—and—oh, yes, the fish!"
"You have forgotten some of the otheranimals we read about in the stories of other cities," said her father.
Anna looked puzzled.
"Don't you remember the crickets of Florence?" asked her father. "And that fly which Giotto painted on the nose of Cimabue's painting!"
"Oh, that was a nice chapter," said the little girl. "Now some more."
Her father began to read again:
"The greatest playwright in the world was Shakespeare. He was an Englishman. He wrote a play called 'Romeo and Juliet.'"
"Was it about animals?" asked Anna.
"No," smiled her father. "It was about two lovers. It is a very famous story and the scene is laid in Verona, an Italian city.
"In Verona there is a beautiful little grave where they say Romeo and Juliet are buried. The statue of Shakespeare stands over it."
"But how can they be buried if they were only book people?" asked Anna.
"That is a good question," said her father. "Of course, it cannot be true unless such people really lived."
"Maybe they buried the book which Mr. Shakespeare wrote!" decided Anna.
Just then there came a queer, muffled noise under the window. Tony had sneezed!Anna's father, turning the pages of the book, did not seem to hear it. But Anna, who had been thinking of Tony, did.
She wanted so much to tell her father about the poor boy. She really did not think that her father would be unkind to him. Yet she had promised to say nothing, and she must keep her word.
"Papa," she suddenly asked. "If you had a little boy who told stories and did not obey, what would you do to him?"
Her father hesitated a moment. Then he answered, "I would try to teach him the beauty of truth and I would discipline him."
His voice had a very severe ring. He continued:
"There are too many lazy little beggars in the streets of Naples, like that lying young son of the Marionette Man. They have never been properly trained, and they are a disgrace to a beautiful city. Theyshould be taught. They should be made to obey!"
Upon the word "obey," his hand came down with a bang on the arm of the chair. It made Tony jump.
CHAPTER VII
Tony, under the window, squirmed unhappily. He was everything that Anna's father had called him. Lazy! He begged! He did not always tell the truth. He was a disgrace to beautiful Naples!
But he did not want to be disciplined. He did not want to obey. He was afraid of Anna's father with his ideas of discipline.
He shivered and huddled up closer to the house. It was growing colder, and his nose felt stuffy. How warm and cosy it looked inside!
Anna's father found the page he had been looking for.
"Now," said he, "we are going to hearabout a strange mixture of things. Statues, sailors, music, and cheese!"
Tony forgot the cold. He even forgot Anna's father except for his deep voice.
"The city of Genoa," read the deep voice, "is Italy's chief seaport. Its streets are lined with palaces. It seems that everything in Genoa takes place in a palace. Even schools are sometimes found in palaces!
"The city is surrounded by forts and strong walls.
"The Palazzo San Giorgio is the oldest bank in Europe. Here there is a curious collection of statues.
"They are the statues of men who have given money for public good. If you see a seated statue, you will know that this man gave a large gift.
"If a statue is standing, it means that the gift was not so large. No doubt, they wish to make the generous ones more comfortable.
"Genoa might be called 'America's Cradle.' Do you know why?"
Anna did not know. But Anna was an Italian girl. You, who are Americans,surely know that Genoa was the birthplace of Christopher Columbus.
"Christopher Columbus used to play about the water front when he was a little boy," read Anna's father. "When he grew up, he sailed off one day and discovered a new country—America!
"Genoa possesses one of the largest theatresand one of the finest cemeteries in the world!"
"I would rather go to the theatre!" declared Anna.
Tony agreed with her.
So did Tina. For, at that moment, she gave a rumbling grunt, yawned, and went back to sleep.
Anna's father read on:
"In 1813, in the Province of Parma, a baby by the name of Giuseppe Verdi was born. One year after this, a terrible battle took place in the village.
"Women and children rushed to the church for protection. But the enemy broke into the church.
"Among these poor villagers was the mother of Giuseppe Verdi. With her baby in her arms, she fled up into the belfry tower. Here she hid until all danger from the battle was past.
"Think what the world would have lost if she had not done this! For that baby became the father of Italian opera!
"His haunting melodies are sung everywhere. You have heard them though you may not know it.
"When Verdi was a little boy, he used to assist the priest in church. One day the notes of the organ carried him far away to dreamland. He did not hear the priest ask for some water.
"No water came. The priest waited. Then he repeated, 'Water!' Still no sign from Giuseppe.
"'Water!' The priest was growing angry. He touched his dreaming assistant with the toe of his shoe. Down the steps, head first, fell young Verdi!
"The older he grew the more Verdi loved his native land. At this time the people of Italy were ruled by the Austrians. They were unhappy and wanted their own king, Victor Emmanuel.
"Verdi's music always stirred within them a deep love of their country.
"It was found that the name 'Verdi' could be spelled by using the first letters of the words, 'VictorEmmanuel,Réd'Italia' (which means, in English, "Victor Emmanuel, King of Italy").
"The Italians would cry 'Verdi! Verdi!' The Austrians thought, of course, that these were only cheers for the popular composer. But they were really crying, 'Victor Emmanuel, King of Italy!' Had the Austrians known this, they would have been very angry."
Anna's father looked up from the book once more.
"Did you ever hear the saying, 'From the sublime to the ridiculous?'" he asked.
"No, Papa," said Anna. "What does it mean?"
"It might mean," he replied, "that we are now going from beautiful music to cheese!"
Tony wondered whether the gentleman had suddenly lost his wits.
"Of course, cheese is not at all ridiculous if you like it," he went on. "And most Italians do like it.
"Macaroni without cheese is like Mexican tamales without chile. It is like fish without chips in England, or sausage without sauerkraut in Germany!
"Parma is not only the home of a famous composer; it is also the home of a famous cheese! When I was there, I saw a poster of three, huge-nosed gentlemen sniffing at a piece of Parmesan cheese. Their eyes bulged with delight.
"Just as Verdi once was carried away by music, so these gentlemen were carried away by the odor of cheese!"
Tony saw Tina's black nose wriggling in her sleep. He almost laughed aloud. Did the little dog understand what was being said?
CHAPTER VIII
Tony was cold. He wanted Tina. He hoped that soon Anna would come out to put the dog to bed. But as soon as that happened, the stories would have to stop.
Tony did not want them to stop. If only he had Tina and a warm blanket! Then he would stay beneath the window and listen as long as the stories continued. What fun!
He sneezed again.
Anna sat up in her father's arms.
"I must go now and put Niki to bed," she said. "Then I will come back."
Tony saw her climb down from her father's knee. Tina woke up and blinked. Anna left the room, and Tony knew that she was coming out to the garden.
He ran over to the dog's tent and soon Anna arrived.
"Hello, poor little boy," she said. "I heard you under the window. Are you cold? Are you sad?"
"Ah, Signorina," wailed Tony. "I am nearly dead!"
He made a most horrible face.
"Today I have walked miles and miles, but nobody would help me or give me anything to eat. They only kicked me off the road and—will you bring me a blanket?" he asked suddenly.
"Yes," she said. She put Tina into his arms. "Hold Niki and I will go into the house for one."
She ran back. Tony, with the dog in his arms, crouched once more under the window. Through it he saw Anna come into the room. Her father called her to him.
"Come," he said. "One more chapter and then to bed."
Anna's face fell. What should she do? She had promised to bring Tony a blanket. Yet she could not say so. She must stay here until her father finished reading.
"Now," he began, "we shall visit Italy's largest city, Milan. The pride of Milan is her beautiful cathedral. It is built of white marble brought from the quarries by canal. The canal was built especially for that purpose.
"With its two thousand slender spires, this cathedral is like fairy lace. Stories are told upon the many beautiful windows of stained glass.
"In the long ago, Milan was the fashion center of the world. Just as, today, every lady wants a Paris gown, so, at that time, they wanted Milan hats. They spoke of them as 'Milaners.' Can you see how the word 'milliner' was born?
"From the hat to the shoe is a long way. The whole of Italy is shaped like a boot.Milan is far up on the leg. Down at the tip of the toe is the island of Sicily.
"Sicily, originally settled by the Greeks, has often been called the 'football of Italy.' And it has truly been kicked about, for many different nations have ruled it.
"It is a beautiful island. Yet for many years its people have been gradually leavingit. Many thousands went to America.
"At one time the United States bought quantities of lemons from Sicily. Now the Americans are growing their own.
"There is a volcano on the island called Mt. Etna. Great sulphur mines were made by this volcano, and for years Sicily supplied the world with sulphur. But now the United States also supplies sulphur.
"Another volcano is that of Stromboli. It is an island off the coast of Sicily. For two thousand years this fire island has been like a glowing torch in the water. It is therefore called the Lighthouse of the Mediterranean Sea.
"And while we are speaking of volcanoes, here is the terrible story of Pompeii. I have told you many legends, but this tale is true.
"Hundreds of years ago a beautiful little city called Pompeii nestled at the foot of Mt. Vesuvius.
"Here men, women, and children livedhappy, carefree lives. Their houses were small jewels. They feasted and lived in luxury. Pompeii was a pleasure city.
"Then, one day, a frightful thing happened. The volcano, Vesuvius, grew very angry. Black smoke gushed from the hole in her great head. Ashes and hot stones came tumbling down upon Pompeii. The earth rocked. Thunder roared. Darkness fell upon the town. People fled, groping their way through the streets.
"Next day Pompeii, the jewel city, lay buried beneath the earth."
Tony felt a chill run up his back. He glanced at the fire-mountain behind the house. Then he looked into the window again. Anna lay very still in her father's arms.
Anna had heard that story many times. Besides, Anna was very young. She was now asleep!
"Wake up, little sleepy one," said her father. He smoothed her hair gently.
Anna stirred and rubbed her eyes. She had been dreaming about Tony. Oh, Tony, your secret is in danger!
All at once she sat up straight and looked about in a startled way.
She cried, "I must go out to Tony, Papa! I promised to bring him a blanket!"
CHAPTER IX
Tony clutched Tina and started. Anna's father looked at his daughter in a puzzled way.
"Who is Tony and what do you mean?" he asked.
Then poor little Anna's heart sank. She had given away her friend's secret!
Tony balanced himself on his toes, squatting, ready to run. He saw Anna burst into tears, heard her pour out her whole story.
"He is such a poor little boy, Papa!" she wept. "He is so hungry and cold! But I promised I would not tell and now ... oh...."
She sobbed pitifully. Her father held her close.
"There, my darling, don't cry," he said. "Tony is a bad boy. Come, let us go out there to him and...."
Tony did not wait to hear more. With Tina clasped tightly he ran. He ran as fast as his legs would carry him, out, on to the main road.
He saw Vesuvius towering above, a terrible giantess puffing on a poisonous pipe! Would she ever again break out in anger?
The wind blew. It had started to rain. The night was so black.
His legs ached. But he must run, run far away from Anna's father. He could never, never go back again. Now he was really a thief. He was running away with Tina!
The little dog began to shiver in his arms. He stopped for a moment, took off his coat, and wrapped it around the animal.
The rain came down harder and harder. Finally, Tony found a haystack, and the boy and dog cuddled down for the night.
Early morning brought a blue sky. The rain was gone. The Bay shone and the smoke from Vesuvius sailed straight up in a thin grey line.
But Tony awoke in a fever. Tina stood beside him, her tail beating a pleasant tune on the ground. Her sweet, white face smiled down at him.
Why did he not jump up and play with heras he always did in the morning? Why did her little god lie so still?
Tony's dark eyes sparkled unnaturally. There were red patches on either cheek.
For a moment he could not remember where he was. Then it all came back to him. Anna! Anna's father!
He had stolen Tina! He was a thief!
He sat up suddenly. Perhaps they were already looking for him.
He shivered and put on his coat. It was damp. Tina barked joyfully. They were going for a walk!
It was a long walk! Miles and miles. Hours and hours. Tony's head throbbed. His feet ached. Tina's tongue swept the ground.
At last they reached the buried city of Pompeii. Its ruins are now the most famous in the world. Tourists visit it every day. Tony knew this. He stood beside a wall and began to beg.
"I die of hunger!" he whined.
It was a lie. Tony felt too ill to eat. But he wanted to buy food for Tina.
He screwed up his face and added in English, "Poor leetle boy!"
"Go away from here!" roared a guide. "And take that dog with you!"
Tony scampered. He knew that dogs are not allowed in Pompeii. He crouchedbeside a fence. When the guide's back was turned, he slipped under the fence.
He was inside the gates. He was in Pompeii. Really inside the gates of Pompeii! Standing upon the long, silent streets, in the shadow of stately ruins.
Columns and statues stood like graceful ghosts. It was a place to impress any child. To Tony, light-headed with fever, it was a wonder and a dream.
A guide came along, leading a party of tourists through the streets. To Tony his voice droned like a swarm of bees.
"It was a city of pleasure and wealth," said the guide. "Tinkling fountains played. Painted chariots clattered over the cobble-stones. Boys and girls laughed and sang."
Tony saw it, felt it, heard it all!
"See the tracks of the chariots in the pavements," droned the guide's voice. "The plumbing was so good that the fountains are still running today."
Tony followed them through restored palaces, courtyards, wine shops.
Some of the houses had four dining rooms—one for each season: Spring, Summer, Fall, and Winter. Before one house was the word "Have." This means "Welcome" in Greek. The Fascists say this when they salute.
In the old Roman Bath was a case with images like mummies. The guide entered the building with his tourist train—a train of human question marks.
Tony followed. He hid in a dark corner so they would not see him.
"Here we have the forms of some of the ancient people found in the ruins," explained the guide. "They are, however, only hollow forms. They have been surrounded by lava."
"What is lava, Mama?" squeaked a tourist child.
"Hush!" said the mother.
"I want some if it is to eat!" howled the child.
"Lava," said the guide, "is the fiery fluid which comes out of a volcano during an eruption. When it cools it hardens and becomes like rock."
"I don't want to eat any!" decided the child.
"Here is the form of a dog," went on the guide.
"I want a 'hot dog,' Mama!" whined the child.
They finally left the building. Tony heard the child's irritable voice far down the street. He came out from his corner. The building was empty.
He looked at the strange, rock-covered images. The little dog was about the size of Tina. He shivered. He went outside. The sun had dropped behind a hill. He could see Vesuvius puffing, puffing on her pipe.
"Oh, you—you wicked one!" He shook his fist at the mountain.
His head began to spin. The streets were more silent than ever, for the sight-seers had all gone. Tall columns, like black knights, stood guard over the buried city.
Tony had heard the guide say that at a certain hour the gates would close. Was that hour now past? Was he locked in the deserted city, alone? Trapped, like victims of the volcano so long ago?
He felt ill. He was burning with fever. He started toward the gate, squeezing Tina until she grunted.
Then, all at once, his legs seemed to disappear beneath him and he sank to the earth.
The ruins of Pompeii whirled all about him. Vesuvius blew a great column of smoke in his face, and he knew no more!
CHAPTER X
The next thing Tony knew, he was in ancient Pompeii. He was in the buried city before it had been buried!
"How could this be?" you ask. "A person cannot live in the past!"
Ah, but Tony had arrived upon a queer ship. The name of the ship wasFever, Fear, and Troubled Sleep.
Tony really and truly lay upon the ground dreaming. He lay where he had fallen when we last left him. But, in his dream, he was in old Pompeii. Old Pompeii appeared to him just as Anna's father and the guide had told about it.
Tony believed that he lay in a corner of the Forum, the main square of the town. Itwas night, and a group of beggars slept beside him. Tina cuddled snugly in his arms.
All about him slumbered Pompeii with the smoke from Vesuvius curling above in the black sky.
Tony looked up at the fire-mountain and, all at once, his heart seemed to stand still. Why, that volcano was going to destroy Pompeii! It was written in books of history! Everyone in the modern world knew it!
But here nobody knew it. How could they? They were ancient people. He was living in the past. Tony, the beggar boy, was the only one who knew! He must tell them!
He stood up. He saw those beautiful homes and gardens he had heard so much about. Tomorrow they would be in ruins!
Tomorrow? How did he know that the end would come tomorrow? Tony could not explain. But he did know. Dreams are like that.
He woke the beggars. He warned them of the coming terror. Frantically he tried to explain to them the danger of what was about to happen.
"Vesuvius will erupt and destroy Pompeii," he said.
But the beggars laughed at him.
"Stuff!" said one.
"Liar!" cried another.
Then they went back to sleep.