Little Tony of Italy

The small scraps that Guido threw to the dog were not enough to keep her alive. So Tony always divided his meals with the friend he loved.

Today, as usual, Tony, with his dog, trudged along on his way to the hotels. Once there, he stood outside of one and waited. Two foreign ladies appeared at the door. Immediately, tears gathered in Tony's eyes. He ran up to them eagerly.

"Ah, dear ladies, I am a poor, orphan boy!" he moaned in Italian. Then he burst into English: "No mudder! No fadder!" he wailed.

The ladies looked at him pityingly. But just then the hotel manager came out.

"Go along!" he commanded Tony. "You are not allowed here. Run!"

He shooed Tony as if he had been stray chickens. Tony scampered a few feet away. When the hotel manager had gone, he again began to make mournful signs to the strange ladies.

But now they only laughed and shook their heads, for they knew what a scamp he was. So Tony laughed, too, and began to sing good-naturedly. A Naples street boy is like that.

The ladies drove off in a carriage and as they passed they threw money to the rascal. You see, nobody ever took the trouble to explain things to Tony. Foreigners enjoyed his pretty acting, which only spoiled him.

For several hours Tony stayed around the hotels, dodging hotel managers, and crying his way into the hearts of strangers. Then, he started toward the place he called home, walking along the broad drive that faces the Bay of Naples.

Naples is built like a giant theatre stage. The shore is where the plays take place. The shining Bay is the vast blue audience.

Out, facing the shore, is the famous Castle of the Egg. Many stories are told about this historical building.

It was once the home of Lucullus, a Roman general who was very fond of eating.

One legend tells that the poet, Virgil, put an enchanted egg between the walls of the castle. So long as this egg remained in its place, the city of Naples was supposed to be safe.

But the real reason for the castle's strange name is, no doubt, its egg-like shape.

High up on a hill of Naples is a park of rare beauty. From here one looks down upon the island of Nisida. Like the Castle of the Egg, this island was once the home of great Roman generals. Today they are both prisons.

But let us go back and find Tony. He now turned into the crowded part of the city where the noise and the smells begin. He felt more at home there. He stopped and bought a meal of fresh fish for Tina at a small stand.

Then he stuffed himself full of macaroni and candies. At last he had only a few pennies left.

A boy in uniform had been watching Tony. He was dressed in olive-green breeches and black shirt. He wore a small cap with a tassel on it.

He belonged to the Balilla, the Italian Boy Scouts. The Government is directing them in sports and work of all kinds. They are growing up to be strong and loyal to their country.

"Hello," said the boy to Tony.

"Good-bye," said Tony to the boy.

He began to saunter off.

"Wait," said the boy. "I would like to speak with you."

Now, every young Italian hopes to join the Balilla. So, of course, Tony did, too. But how could a little beggar, who had hardly enough to eat, expect to belong to such a grand company?

Tony did not even want to talk with this modern son of Italy.

"I must go," he mumbled.

But the boy walked over to him and began to speak earnestly.

"I just noticed that you were very hungry," he said. "Why was that?"

Tony's eyes gleamed angrily. "Because I had eaten too much!" he snapped.

What right had this fellow to detain and mock him because he was poor?

"I mean no harm," said the lad. "I only want to help you. Do you know that you may join the Balilla if you want to?"

"I?" inquired Tony.

"Yes, you, or any other boy who wishes to join."

"But I have no money to pay for the uniform," said Tony.

"If you cannot pay, the State will give you a uniform. Every boy in Italy should belong to the Balilla."

As he said this he saluted. His arm shot out stiffly, the palm of his hand exposed. He drew himself up like a soldier.

"It is fine to march with a band," he went on. "The State will help to educate you and will send you to a seaside camp in summer."

"A poor boy like me?" Tony's eyes were wide.

The other smiled. "Have you never heard how the Balilla started?" he asked.

Then he told Tony about another poor boy who had lived in Genoa years ago. When the Austrians attacked his city, he threw a stone and started an uprising. The enemy was driven away.

"That boy's name was 'Balilla,'" explained Young Italy. "Before he threw the stone, he went forward with the words, 'Shall I begin?'"

Tony's face shone with pleasure.

"Shall I begin? Shall I begin?" he muttered to himself. Why not? It would be glorious to march through the parks, waving banners. He would study hard and learn to be a soldier.

But then, Tony thought of the training and discipline. He did not want to be trained. He wanted to run wild and beg money of foreigners.

And what of Tina? There would be no place for a little dog in a military group of boys.

Besides, Guido would never allow him to join. Guido needed him.

But suppose he should run away from Guido? Oh, then he felt sure that the Marionette Man would starve Tina.

Tony always saw that the dog had enough to eat. It was he who cared for her, dressed her in her fancy costume and put her through her little tricks between each act of the puppet show.

She slept with Tony and did not have to shiver outside any more. No, Tony could not leave Tina!

"Will you come with me now?" asked Young Italy. "Will you begin?"