"
"Well, I don't say it wouldn't do," Paolo answered reflectively; "but it
seems to me something like 'caro' or 'amato' [Footnote: Dear--beloved]
might be appropriate for such a pet."
Andrea shook his head. And, after again racking his brain in an effort to
suggest a really appropriate name, the old man finally slapped his hand on
his side:
"It just comes to me this instant, something I heard one of those touristas
call a little curly dog by. At the time it occurred to me that it sounded
more like a name for a pigeon."
"What was it?" Andrea inquired eagerly.
"Chico," Paolo answered, lingering on the first syllable, exactly as the
tourista had done--"Chee-ko."
Andrea was charmed, agreeing that there was something about it that seemed
to suit a saucy pigeon, and, vastly pleased, he repeated over and over,
"Chico, Chico," while Maria echoed softly "Chee-ko."
CHAPTER V
THE MEANEST CAT IN VENICE
It is hard to imagine a more forlorn experience in the life of a young bird
than to be suddenly pushed from the nest and find himself alone on a hard
pavement. It is bad enough when it happens as the result of premeditation
on the part of an unfeeling parent who has made up his mind that his
offspring are quite able to shift for themselves, but, when it occurs from
accident, it is nothing short of tragic.
Poor Chico, this was what had happened to him, and he had huddled,
shivering, close to the column of St. Theodore and tried in vain to reason
everything out in his pigeon mind.
Pages:
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35