Little Tony of Italy

He hoped that Anna had not forgotten to leave his dinner. He also hoped that her father would not forget to tell more stories tonight. This was a pleasant life.

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 would turn 'round and 'round in a sort of old-fashioned waltz. She might have been a white, furry merry-go-round but for the pink tongue that popped out so frequently.

Tony sat up and stretched. He felt very weak but the fever had passed. The day was young. Nobody stirred in the streets of Pompeii. It was too early for the gates to open.

When Anna and her father had left, Tony ran over to the kennel-tent. Tina nearly wagged herself to pieces with joy. Tony sank down beside her. He buried his head in her soft hair.

Each day the Marionette Man sent him to the hotels to beg. Each evening he had to help with the show. He set the tiny stage and dusted the theatre.

His legs ached. But he must run, run far away from Anna's father. He could never, never go back again. Now he was really a thief. He was running away with Tina!

Tony really and truly lay upon the ground dreaming. He lay where he had fallen when we last left him. But, in his dream, he was in old Pompeii. Old Pompeii appeared to him just...

"A long time ago there lived a great artist named Michelangelo. He built the dome of St. Peter's Cathedral in Rome. This is the largest church in the world. Thirty services may...

Tony, under the window, squirmed unhappily. He was everything that Anna's father had called him. Lazy! He begged! He did not always tell the truth. He was a disgrace to beautifu...

Tony was cold. He wanted Tina. He hoped that soon Anna would come out to put the dog to bed. But as soon as that happened, the stories would have to stop.