"
Andrea had lost not a syllable of what the old man said. For a long time
he had secretly cherished the desire to own one of the pretty fluttering
creatures, but not, until now, had the possibility occurred to him that he
might teach one to carry messages.
Long after Paolo had returned to his duties in the church, the boy sat
watching the clouds of pigeons circling above, or flying double (bird and
shadow), against the walls of the church.
He had made up his mind that as soon as Paolo fulfilled his promise, he
would begin to train his fledgling.
"There's no knowing," he cried eagerly to Maria, "what important messages
my bird will carry!"
In reply she only smiled--it was enough for her that the pigeons loved to
have her stroke them as they nestled in her lap.
CHAPTER III
MARIA'S BIRTHDAY
Andrea was so possessed with his idea that he ran every step of the way
home that afternoon, climbed up the narrow dark stairs, two steps at a
time, and burst upon his mother in such excitement that she feared some
misfortune had befallen the children.
"What is it?" she cried, looking up from the stiff porridge she was mixing,
"are you hurt?--and Maria--where is she?"
"Nothing has happened," was the breathless answer; "that is, nothing
dreadful, and Maria is behind with Paolo. It is only--" his dark cheeks
flushed. "It is only that he has promised me a pigeon of my own!"
"Is that all?" Greatly relieved, his mother turned again to the polenta.
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