Little Tony of Italy

Little Tony of Italy
Madeline Brandeis

Madeline Brandeis

Little Tony of Italy

PREFACE

When I began to write these stories about children of all lands I had just returned from Europe whither I journeyed with Marie and Ref. Maybe you don't know Marie and Ref. I'll introduce them: Please meet Marie, my very little daughter, and Ref, my very big reflex camera.

These two are my helpers. Marie helps by being a little girl who knows what other little girls like and by telling me; and Ref helps by snapping pictures of everything interesting that Marie and I see on our travels. I couldn't get along without them.

Several years have gone by since we started our work together and Marie is a bigger girl – but Ref hasn't changed one bit. Ref hasn't changed any more than my interest in writing these books for you. And I hope that you hope that I'll never change, because I want to keep on writing until we'll have no more countries to write about – unless, of course, some one discovers a new country.

Even if a new country isn't discovered, we'll find foreign children to talk about – maybe the children in Mars! Who knows? Nobody. Not even Marie – and Marie usually knows about most things. That's the reason why, you see, though I sign myself

    I am really only
    Marie's Mother.

CHAPTER I

TONY AND TINAS

It was love at first sight.

It happened as Tony was sauntering along a noisy street in Naples. One of the noisiest, oldest, and dirtiest streets.

Cries, songs, laughter, scoldings filled the air. And smells! But not the smell of roses.

Tony's brown hands were stuffed in his ragged pockets. A never-mind whistle was on his saucy lips.

But suddenly he stopped. He planted his legs apart and stared. There, on the steps of a church, she sat. Her beautiful, pitiful brown eyes looked up at Tony.

She had a bewitching face. It was a white face; thin and rather sad.

"Hungry?" asked Tony.

Then, without waiting for a reply, he added, "Come along. I'll buy you something to eat."

He jingled coins in his pockets. His mouth curved at the corners. He had black eyes and they gleamed.

They started off together, when, all at once, she stopped and would go no farther.

"Come," urged Tony. "Don't be afraid. I have money. See? I begged it of the Americans at the big hotel."

He drew the coins from his pocket and showed them to her. But she only stood and gazed at him with those mournful, brown eyes. Tony's black ones 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! I say, '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 admiration in 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 something very serious about her.

Tony had a temper. Angrily, he now stooped and picked her up. She did not resist. In fact, her fluffy tail wagged heartily and she began to lick his face.

She seemed to be saying, "I am forbidden to go with you. But if you take me, what can I do?"

Tony bought meat from a street vender. He put her down and fed her out of his hand. She ate hungrily. Her little ribs showed plainly through the dirty white hair of her body.

When she finished, Tony picked her up again. He should have taken her back to the church steps. She belonged to the Marionette show around the corner. She was a trained dog.

But Tony did not know this. He only knew that he loved the little dog very much, that he could not live another day without her.

Determinedly, he tucked her under his arm and started toward home.

He stuffed the remaining meat inside his shirt. It was not a very clean shirt, anyway, so a little meat did not make much difference.

Tony was an orphan. Nobody ever said to him, "Take your bath!" "Have you washed your ears?"

He lived with an old woman in the back of a very old house. Everything was old on this street. Everything but the children – and there were many of them.

It was a poor and crowded street. People sat outside their doors all day long. 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 animal which 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 been feeding animals again. Ah!"

Her mouth fell open. A light of recognition came into her eyes.