They stopped for a moment under the window for a lingering glance upward
while Paolo called their attention to the dry-goods box he had placed on
end for their special convenience.
"By standing on this," he explained, "you can get on a level with the nest
without being dependent on me."
All the morning the children hung around the shed, delighted when there
was an occasional sound from the nest above, and from time to time they
clambered up to whisper soft nothings to the sharp ears of Baby Pigeon.
At noon, when eating their luncheon, they plied the old caretaker with
questions some of which, it must be confessed, taxed all his ingenuity to
answer satisfactorily.
"How long will it be before I can begin to train him?" interrupted Andrea,
on fire with his desire at once to realize his ambition.
Paolo laughed. "One question at a time. I notice some soft down already
beginning to show, so I fancy it will not be many weeks until he can boast
as much in the way of fine clothes as his own father and mother. As for his
training, it's quite too soon to think of that; so, my boy, you will have
to possess your soul in patience for a while longer. By the way, your bird
should have a name. Have you any in mind?"
"Not yet, although I've been thinking about that very thing," Andrea
answered meditatively; "no name seems good enough."
"I think 'bambino' would be nice," suggested Maria; "he's such a darling
baby."
"Si, but he will soon be grown up" put in Andrea; "I was wondering how
Marco would do.
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