CHAPTER I
TONY AND TINA
It was love at first sight.
It happened as Tony was sauntering along a noisy street in Naples. One ofthe noisiest, oldest, and dirtiest streets.
Cries, songs, laughter, scoldings filled the air. And smells! But not thesmell of roses.
Tony's brown hands were stuffed in his ragged pockets. A never-mind whistlewas on his saucy lips.
But suddenly he stopped. He planted his legs apart and stared. There, onthe steps of a church, she sat. Her beautiful, pitiful brown eyes lookedup at Tony.
She had a bewitching face. It was a white face; thin and rather sad.
"Hungry?" asked Tony.
ON A STREET IN NAPLES]
Then, without waiting for a reply, he added, "Come along. I'll buy yousomething to eat."
He jingled coins in his pockets. His mouth curved at the corners. He hadblack eyes and they gleamed.
They started off together, when, all at once, she stopped and would go nofarther.
"Come," urged Tony. "Don't be afraid. I have money. See? I begged it ofthe Americans at the big hotel."
He drew the coins from his pocket and showed them to her. But she onlystood and gazed at him with those mournful, brown eyes. Tony's blackones snapped.
"Avanti! (Forward!)" he cried. "What makes you stand like a donkey? See,I have enough to buy you all the food you can eat. I am clever."
He smiled roguishly.
"I cry before the foreigners," he continued. "I rub my stomach, so! Isay, 'Ah, I die of hunger!'"
He made a frightful face and patted his stomach.
But she only looked at him and did not move. Yet there was admirationin her eyes.
"Then," he went on, "they feel sorry for me and they say, 'Poor boy!Beautiful boy! We must give him some money!' So they do that!"
He laughed and showed his white teeth. But not she. There was somethingvery serious about her.
Tony had a temper. Angrily, he now stooped and picked her up. She did notresist. In fact, her fluffy tail wagged heartily and she began to lickhis face.
She seemed to be saying, "I am forbidden to go with you. But if you takeme, what can I do?"
Tony bought meat from a street vender. He put her down and fed her out ofhis hand. She ate hungrily. Her little ribs showed plainly through thedirty white hair of her body.
When she finished, Tony picked her up again. He should have taken herback to the church steps. She belonged to the Marionette show around thecorner. She was a trained dog.
But Tony did not know this. He only knew that he loved the little dogvery much, that he could not live another day without her.
A FAMILY GROUP ON A STREET IN NAPLES]
Determinedly, he tucked her under his arm and started toward home.
He stuffed the remaining meat inside his shirt. It was not a very cleanshirt, anyway, so a little meat did not make much difference.
Tony was an orphan. Nobody ever said to him, "Take your bath!" "Have youwashed your ears?"
He lived with an old woman in the back of a very old house. Everythingwas old on this street. Everything but the children--and there were manyof them.
It was a poor and crowded street. People sat outside their doors all daylong. They worked and played and ate outside.
But now Tony ran inside quickly to look for the old woman.
"Look! Look!" he cried. "I have found a poor, lost little dog!"
The old woman was deaf.
"The dog is hurt?" she screamed. She glared at the frightened animalwhich lay quite still in Tony's arms.
"No!" yelled Tony. "I found her and I am going to keep her!"
"You are not going to keep her!" shrilled the old woman.
Then she peered more closely at Tony.
"What is that?" she asked. "Ah, meat inside your shirt! You have beenfeeding animals again. Ah!"
Her mouth fell open. A light of recognition came into her eyes.
"Dio Mio!" she gasped. "It is the trained dog of Guido, the MarionetteMan! You have stolen it! Ah, Madonna, now you are a thief!"
Tony shrank. His face grew almost as white as the dog's. A thief! Ofcourse, Tony knew that often he did not tell the truth. But then, itwas sometimes much easier to make up falsehoods. And much more fun!Besides, he never told stories that would do anyone harm.
But to steal? That was a different thing.
THE BAY OF NAPLES]
He had not known that the dog belonged to the Marionette show.
"You are not satisfied with telling lies," went on the excited oldwoman. "But now you must steal besides! Come, you child of Satan!"
She threw a tattered shawl about her shoulders.
"We are going to take the dog back to Guido!" she announced.
She led Tony away briskly. She was a witch-like old woman. But still, shehad cared for Tony since his parents had died and left him alone.
She had cared for him in giving him a home and something to eat. But thatwas all. She had not tried to teach him the things that real parents teachtheir children--things like the beauty of truth. Perhaps if she had donethis, Tony might have been different.
As it was, he was a lying little rascal with the face of an angel. He hadno thought but for song and story--and, of course, for animals!
IN FRONT OF THE MARIONETTE THEATRE]
They found Guido at his tiny theatre. The old woman pushed Tony up to theMarionette Man, the dog nestling in his arms.
"Here is your dog, Mr. Guido!" The old woman's voice was sharp like hernose. Tony, who liked beautiful sounds, hated to hear her talk.
"This--this--lost child of a thousand devils brought it home," shecroaked. "What will he do next? I am disgraced!"
Guido took the dog from Tony's arms. Guido was dark and oily. He smiled.But Tony did not smile. Two big tears stood in his eyes. His rosy mouthdid not curl. It trembled.
"So you love my Tina very much, yes?" asked Guido. He laid his hand onTony's little brown cap. "You would like to own her, eh?"
"What do you say?" screamed the old woman. "Talk louder! I cannot hear."
"The boy would like to own the dog," repeated Guido, louder.
"He would like to own the world!" shrieked the old woman.
She started to drag Tony away, but he escaped her and ran back to Guido.
"Let me stay with you!" he cried.
Then he lowered his voice so the old woman could not hear what he said.
"The witch is cruel to me," he whined. "She beats me every morning. Ah,I am not happy."
"What is that? What is he saying?" squealed the old woman, straining tohear.
But Tony kept his voice low.
"Let me live with you, sir!" he went on. "I am a good boy and always doas I am told!"
Tony's guardian took hold of the Marionette Man's sleeve.
"Please, sir," she implored. "You must not believe the tales Tony tellsyou. I am sure they are lies. I have been good to him. But each day hecomes home with pockets empty. Yet I know he has begged money from theforeigners and has spent it on the way home."
LAKE COMO]
Guido gave Tony an amused look.
The old woman continued, "Always animals!" she groaned. "This stupidchild would feed every cat, dog, goose, and donkey while I starve!"
In a way, the old woman was right. Tony did just this with his money.He spent it on food for stray animals.
Or, sometimes he gave it to beggars who sat on church steps. They werenot so fortunate as he. For he was beautiful to look at and peoplealways believed his sad tales. He was a splendid actor.
He also knew that the old woman had enough for herself. So why shouldhe bring home his pennies when men and beasts starved on the streets?
But he did not put it this way to his guardian. It was so much easier toturn his pockets inside out and say, with a roguish smile, "Niente!(Nothing!)"
"How would you like me to take the lad to live with me?" asked Guido, theMarionette Man.
"Hea
ven protect you, sir!" cried the old woman. "You do not know Tony!"
But here she was wrong, for Guido did know Tony. He had often watchedhim on the streets, begging. Such a clever child would be able to helpin the Marionette show.
"Let me have him," said Guido, pleasantly. "I am not afraid of littleboys who do not tell the truth. I will teach him as I teach my littletrained dog, eh?"
He laughed and looked into Tony's eyes. Tony smiled at him and brushedaway the tears.
"Yes, I will come to live with you--and with the little dog," he said."Then I can be with her always!"
"Yes, indeed," agreed Guido. He turned to the old woman. "Are youwilling?" he asked.
"Willing?" she cried. "Do you ask one who suffers with toothache if heis willing to part with the aching tooth? He is a rascal and caresnothing for me. Indeed I am willing to let you keep him. Yet--"
She hesitated. A softer expression came over her face.
"You must promise to be good to him," she added. "His mother was myfriend. When she died she left him in my care. For her sake, you mustpromise to treat Tony well."
"I shall treat him as if he were my own," replied Guido, the MarionetteMan.