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.

A FAMILY GROUP ON A STREET IN NAPLES

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.

"Dio Mio!" she gasped. "It is the trained dog of Guido, the Marionette Man! You have stolen it! Ah, Madonna, now you are a thief!"

Tony shrank. His face grew almost as white as the dog's. A thief! Of course, Tony knew that often he did not tell the truth. But then, it was sometimes much easier to make up falsehoods. And much more fun! Besides, he never told stories that would do anyone harm.

But to steal? That was a different thing.

THE BAY OF NAPLES

He had not known that the dog belonged to the Marionette show.

"You are not satisfied with telling lies," went on the excited old woman. "But now you must steal besides! Come, you child of Satan!"

She threw a tattered shawl about her shoulders.

"We are going to take the dog back to Guido!" she announced.

She led Tony away briskly. She was a witch-like old woman. But still, she had cared for Tony since his parents had died and left him alone.

She had cared for him in giving him a home and something to eat. But that was all. She had not tried to teach him the things that real parents teach their children—things like the beauty of truth. Perhaps if she had done this, Tony might have been different.

As it was, he was a lying little rascal with the face of an angel. He had no thought but for song and story—and, of course, for animals!

IN FRONT OF THE MARIONETTE THEATRE

They found Guido at his tiny theatre. The old woman pushed Tony up to the Marionette Man, the dog nestling in his arms.

"Here is your dog, Mr. Guido!" The old woman's voice was sharp like her nose. Tony, who liked beautiful sounds, hated to hear her talk.

"This—this—lost child of a thousand devils brought it home," she croaked. "What will he do next? I am disgraced!"

Guido took the dog from Tony's arms. Guido was dark and oily. He smiled. But Tony did not smile. Two big tears stood in his eyes. His rosy mouth did not curl. It trembled.

"So you love my Tina very much, yes?" asked Guido. He laid his hand on Tony's little brown cap. "You would like to own her, eh?"

"What do you say?" screamed the old woman. "Talk louder! I cannot hear."

"The boy would like to own the dog," repeated Guido, louder.

"He would like to own the world!" shrieked the old woman.

She started to drag Tony away, but he escaped her and ran back to Guido.

"Let me stay with you!" he cried.

Then he lowered his voice so the old woman could not hear what he said.

"The witch is cruel to me," he whined. "She beats me every morning. Ah, I am not happy."

"What is that? What is he saying?" squealed the old woman, straining to hear.

But Tony kept his voice low.

"Let me live with you, sir!" he went on. "I am a good boy and always do as I am told!"

Tony's guardian took hold of the Marionette Man's sleeve.

"Please, sir," she implored. "You must not believe the tales Tony tells you. I am sure they are lies. I have been good to him. But each day he comes home with pockets empty. Yet I know he has begged money from the foreigners and has spent it on the way home."

LAKE COMO

Guido gave Tony an amused look.

The old woman continued, "Always animals!" she groaned. "This stupid child would feed every cat, dog, goose, and donkey while I starve!"

In a way, the old woman was right. Tony did just this with his money. He spent it on food for stray animals.

Or, sometimes he gave it to beggars who sat on church steps. They were not so fortunate as he. For he was beautiful to look at and people always believed his sad tales. He was a splendid actor.

He also knew that the old woman had enough for herself. So why should he bring home his pennies when men and beasts