Aunt Jane's Nieces Abroad
"
"So I have, signorina. I live in the mountains, where dresses catch in
the crags, and bother a girl. And my father has always been heart-broken
because he had no son, and likes to see me in this attire. He has many
errands for me, too, where a boy may go unnoticed, yet a girl would
attract too much attention. This is one of the errands, signorini. But
now tell me, if you please, how have you decided to answer the letters
of Signor Merrick and Signor Ferralti?"
"Oh, there was but one way to answer them, Tato," replied Beth,
composedly. "We have sent Mr. Watson and our cousin Louise Merrick to
Messina to get the money. If our friends in America act promptly Mr.
Watson and Louise will return by to-morrow afternoon's train, and be
prepared to make the payment."
"That is well, signorina," responded Tato.
"We are to give the money to you, I suppose?" said Patsy.
"Yes; I will return for it to-morrow afternoon," answered the child,
with business-like gravity. Then she looked earnestly from one to the
other of the two girls. "You must act discreetly, in the meantime, you
know. You must not talk to anyone, or do anything to imperil your
uncle's safety."
"Of course not, Tato."
"I beg you not, signorini. The uncle is a good man, and brave. I do not
wish him to be injured."
"Nor do we, Tato."
"And the young man is not a coward, either. He has been kind to me. But
he is sad, and not so pleasant to talk with as the uncle."
"True enough, Tato," said Beth.
Patsy had been examining the child with curious intentness. The little
one was so lovely and graceful, and her voice sounded so soft and
womanly, that Patsy longed to take her in her arms and hug her.
"How old are you, dear?" she asked.
Tato saw the friendly look, and answered with a smile.
"Perhaps as old as you, signorina, although I am so much smaller. I
shall be fifteen in a month."
"So old!"
Tato laughed merrily.
"Ah, you might well say 'so young,' amico mia! To be grown up is much
nicer; do you not think so?
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There was once an honest journeyman tailor, by name Labakan, who learned his trade with an excellent master in Alexandria. It could not be said that Labakan was unhandy with the needle; on the contrary, he could make excellent work: moreover, one would have done him injustice to have called him lazy. Nevertheless, his companions knew not what to make of him, for he would often sew for hours together so rapidly that the needle would glow in his hand, and the thread smoke, and that none could equal him.
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