Part 5

Some of the towns stood on steep, rocky hills and were surrounded by strong, stone walls. There was always a village well within the walls, where the women and girls filled their graceful jugs with water every morning.

During spring and summer the men and women in these hillside towns work on their fertile little farms in the green valleys below. In the fall the children take long trips to the woods to gather ripe chestnuts to grind into flour, for the Italians are very fond of chestnut cakes.

The most wonderful thing which Molly and May saw on this northward journey was the Leaning Tower at Pisa.

For seven hundred years the beautiful white marble tower has stood there leaning lazily over to one side. Soon after it was started, the ground under it began to sink. The builders straightened it up as well as they could, but when it was finished its top leaned to one side nearly fourteen feet.

The Sunbonnet Babies were almost afraid to go up the winding stairs inside the Leaning Tower. But at last they bravely climbed the three hundred steps, round and round and up and up, until they reached the top where the great bells hang.

Even though a strong railing was around the top of the tower, Molly and May thought they would surely slip off, it leaned so far to one side. But they soon forgot their fears.

Near by they saw the great black and white cathedral and the beautiful round baptistry where the babies of Pisa are all baptized.

Toward the west they looked across broad, green fields to the blue sea seven miles away. Two thousand years ago the sea was only two miles from Pisa, but the river Arno, which flows down from the mountains, brings with it a great deal of soil which it drops when it reaches the sea. In this way five miles of new land have been made between Pisa and the sea.

There was not much except the Leaning Tower in the now quiet little city of Pisa to interest the Sunbonnet Babies, so they followed the river Arno up toward the mountains as far as the beautiful city of Florence.

It was Maytime, and there were roses everywhere--roses to sell and roses to give away. For the first time in their short lives Molly and May had all the roses they wanted.

"No wonder Florence is called the City of Flowers," said their mother one morning, as they visited the big flower market.

"Yes, everybody seems to be buying or selling flowers. Isn't it lovely?" cried Molly.

Then, before her parents knew what she was doing, Molly ran up to a small boy who was carrying two baskets of beautiful roses on a wooden yoke across his shoulders.

"O little boy!" she said. "Will you please let me sell your roses for you? I will give you all the money I make. I should love to sell them!"

"And so should I!" cried May. "Father, please ask him if we may sell his flowers for him," for the small boy could not quite understand what the little American girls wanted.

A few words from their father, however, brought a happy smile to the boy's face. This was enough for the Sunbonnet Babies. In a moment Molly was standing beside one of the flower baskets and May beside the other, with the radiant little Italian boy between them.

"Now," said Molly, "you hold the baskets while we sell the flowers. We will sell some to our own father first. Please, sir, here is a bunch of pink roses for you. They cost only one lira. I am sure you want them."

Of course he did want them, and many other people wanted to buy of the pretty little flower girls, too.

In a very few minutes the two baskets were empty, and the small boy was hurrying away to his father's flower stand with more money in his pocket than he had ever had before, while Molly and May found other interesting things to do.

From a corner of the market place they heard some one calling, "Ecco! Signor Filippo will now present his troup of trained tops for the crippled soldiers."

"Oh, let's see them!" exclaimed May. "Tops are such fun, and we ought to help the poor Italian soldiers, too."

So they watched young Filippo, who had been a soldier in the great war, spin his wonderful tops.

They were military tops which Filippo had made himself. There was an American soldier, an Italian soldier, a British soldier, and a French soldier. Then there was a Red Cross nurse and a jolly sailor boy. But prettiest of all was a dainty little girl with butterfly skirts, dancing gracefully about among the stiff soldiers.

It was really wonderful, the way Filippo kept the tops spinning. Molly and May paid him a whole lira for the fun they had in watching them.

As they were about to leave the market place they heard a clear, beautiful whistle which made them stop and listen.

"It is my blackbird, signorine," called a little boy. "See, he is here in this cage. I caught him in the field and taught him how to whistle. Now he can whistle better than any other blackbird in Florence. Would you like to buy him?"

"Why, yes, of course we should! But we cannot take care of a bird while we are traveling. He will be happier with you. We will give you some pennies to buy food for him." So they dropped two big Italian pennies into the little boy's hat, while he bowed very politely.

One whole lovely afternoon was spent in motoring over the hills beyond the city of Florence. They saw groves of olive trees that were hundreds and hundreds of years old, and large vineyards where purple grapes were growing.

On a hilly road beyond a small village they passed two women who were bringing down from the woods great bundles of fagots on the backs of small donkeys. They would burn these fagots in their fireplace stoves at home, for wood and coal are hard to get in Italy.

Best of all the things the Sunbonnet Babies saw on this happy drive was a rollicking brook. It came tumbling down over big stones and under white birch trees close by the roadside. Beyond the brook was a trim little wheat field, bright with scarlet poppies.

"It looks just like a brook I know in New England," said their mother. "Let us walk a little way and find out where it comes from."

"Oh, yes! Let's walk!" cried Molly and May and their father.

So they left their car and began following the brook under the shade of the tall trees. The children picked handfuls of scarlet poppies and beautiful blue cornflowers. They listened to the happy nightingales and mocking birds singing in the trees above them, and they watched handsome great dragon flies dart along close above the cool, splashing water.

On and on they walked, until at last they came to a beautiful, quiet spot shut in by trees and bushes, with only the brook flowing through it.

"What a splendid place for a picnic!" cried May. "How I wish we had something to eat!"

"I have some small cakes of sweet chocolate," said her mother. "Perhaps a good fairy will come along and change them into strawberry sandwiches for us. Let us sit down on the grass and see."

So they all sat down by the the brook and their mother divided the little round cakes of chocolate among them. They each had three.

"Sh-h! I believe the fairy is coming," whispered May. "I hear footsteps!"

At that moment the bushes were pushed gently aside and a little, barefooted old woman peeped smilingly through at them. A small, brown-eyed girl was with her. She was barefooted, too, and they each wore a wreath of grape leaves around their flying hair. The little girl had a bunch of fresh grape leaves in her hand, and the little old woman carried a small basket of luscious wild strawberries.

The child laughed and darted into the little group, laying a large grape leaf on the lap of each of the strangers. The little old woman followed close behind her, shaking strawberries from her basket onto each green leaf. Then the little girl quickly laid another leaf on top of the strawberries.

They were about to slip away into the bushes again when May called, "Wait, wait, good fairies! Thank you for your strawberries, and please let us give you our sweet chocolate."

The small basket was passed quickly around again and the tiny tinsel-covered cakes were all dropped into it. Then the two little people, with smiling lips and shining eyes, slipped away into the tall bushes.

"Oh! oh!" whispered Molly. "Were they really, truly fairies?"

"Of course they were," answered May.

"Well," said her mother, "they brought us strawberry sandwiches, anyway, and no one but fairies could have known how much we wanted them."

"That is so," said Molly. "Let's call it our Fairy Tea Party. I never, never tasted such sweet strawberries!"

The drive back to the Flower City was a quiet one. Molly and May had so much to think about. But when the next morning came they were eager for the new day's experience.

"What shall we do to-day, father?" asked Molly at the breakfast table.

"Well, how would you like to go shopping on an old, old bridge which crosses the river Arno?" asked her father.

"Shopping on a bridge!" exclaimed both little girls. "What can we buy on a bridge?"

"Oh, all the pretty jewelry you want," answered their father. "It is a two-story bridge. It is called Ponte Vecchio. On each side of the lower story is a row of small shops, most of which sell jewelry--pretty neck chains and pins and rings. The second story is part of a long, covered passage connecting two famous old palaces. The passage is more than a third of a mile long. It was built for the wedding of a prince in one of the families. The palaces are now filled with beautiful paintings and sculpture. We must go to see them soon."

And so several days were happily filled with shopping and driving and seeing beautiful pictures and wonderful old churches.

They found a tall bell tower in Florence even more graceful and lovely than the Leaning Tower at Pisa. It is called a "Lily in Stone," it is so very beautiful. The tower has stood there beside the great cathedral for nearly six hundred years, and it is as fresh and beautiful now as when it was first built.

THE CITY IN THE SEA

"To-day brings the great surprise," said the Sunbonnet Babies' father one morning. "You remember I said we should visit a place here in Italy which you would like even better than Sorrento or Capri. We are going to that place to-day."

"Oh, where is it?" exclaimed both little girls. "How shall we get there? What are we going to see?"

"You must not ask so many questions. It would not be a surprise if I should tell you all about it," said their father. "But we shall take the train this morning, and before we go to bed to-night we shall be there."

All day Molly and May were much excited thinking about the wonderful surprise awaiting them. Their train carried them slowly northward through the lovely Italian country straight toward the high mountains.

"Must we go over those mountains, father, or can we go through them?" May asked eagerly.

"We shall do both," answered her father. "We shall go over a part of them and we shall go through the rest. In a moment our train will enter the first tunnel."

"Oh! Oh! We are in it now!" exclaimed Molly. "How dark it is!"

Then, almost before she knew it, they were out in the bright sunshine again, creeping along a high bridge above a deep valley. In and out of many tunnels they went, and across many high bridges from which they had wonderful glimpses of the valleys and rivers below and of the mountains towering high above them.

"Is this Switzerland, father?" Molly asked at last.

"No, indeed," answered her father. "We are crossing the Apennine Mountains, which stretch down through Italy like the backbone of a fish. But we shall soon be leaving the mountains behind us and shall see the canals and the rice fields on the other side of them. Then you may think you are in Japan."

And so they traveled northward, seeing many new and interesting sights, until just at sunset they came to what their father called the "Jumping-off Place."

"Close your eyes for a moment," he said. "I will tell you when to open them."

So Molly and May closed their eyes very tightly until their father said, "Now you may look."

"Oh! Oh! Where are we? Our train is running right on the water!" exclaimed May as she opened her eyes.

"Why, yes! There is water on both sides of us!" cried Molly. "There is water all around us. It looks like the sea. O father! Is there a bridge under us? Will our train sink?"

"No, our train will not sink," answered her father, laughing. "There is a real railroad track under us. The track is built on strong wooden posts or piles which are sunk deep down into the ground under the water."

"How far out on the water will the train go?" May asked, in a voice just a little frightened.

"About two miles," answered her father. "We are going to the City in the Sea."

"Oh, I know now!" cried Molly. "We are going to Venice! We are going to Venice, May! That is the wonderful surprise. We are almost there. I can see some of the houses now."

A few moments later their train was pulling into a busy covered station and everybody was getting off, for no one goes beyond Venice by train. A porter took their bags, and the Sunbonnet Babies thought he would show them where to find a carriage or a taxi to take them to their hotel. But no, he led them to a long line of small black boats which were drawn up to the station platform.

"O father! Are these boats gondolas?" asked Molly excitedly. "And is this one of the water streets you have told us about?"

"Yes," said her father, "and this man is going to take us to our hotel in his gondola. So jump in!"

When they were all seated, an old man standing on the platform gave their gondola a push with his long pole and they were off.

The gondolier stood in the back of his graceful boat and paddled it lightly forward with one long oar.

Out into the sunset glow of the broad canal they slipped quietly. The soft colors of the setting sun, caught and reflected by the shining water, made a picture more beautiful than they had seen in any art gallery in Italy.

They glided around corners and through narrow canals, until at last their gondolier stopped his boat close by the marble steps of a handsome stone building.

"This is to be our home while we stay in Venice," said the Sunbonnet Babies' father.

"Oh! I wish we could stay here always," Molly said softly.

"And so do I," whispered May.

As the days went by, Molly and May did not change their minds. Venice was like a fairy land to them, and the hundreds of beautiful pigeons that live about the Piazza of St. Mark were the cunningest of playmates.

Each morning the children hurried to the piazza to help give the doves their breakfast of corn and peas. They were as tame as little chickens. They would coo and flutter about the Sunbonnet Babies and eat from their hands as if they had always been friends.

Sometimes an especially brave little pigeon would stand on one of the pretty sunbonnets, turning his head about very proudly to be sure that everyone was seeing him. But the pigeon was no prouder than the little girl under the bonnet, who stood very still lest she frighten the pretty thing away.

There are very few dogs or cats in Venice, so the pigeons have nothing to fear. They are the pets of the whole city, and they sleep in the prettiest places near the tops of the buildings.

There are only four horses in the city, too, and they are great bronze horses two thousand years old. They have stood above the doorway of the beautiful Cathedral of St. Mark, on one side of the piazza, more than seven hundred years. Napoleon carried them off to Paris and placed them on top of a fine arch there, where they stayed for eighteen years, but at last they were returned to Venice.

During the World War these famous horses were taken down again and hidden away in a safe place where bombs and robbers might not touch them.

Now once more they are standing above the beautiful doorway, with the pretty pigeons flying lovingly about them.

There were many other things on the big piazza, aside from the doves and the horses, which interested the Sunbonnet Babies. There was a strange old Clock Tower which has been standing there since the time Columbus discovered America. Two big bronze men stand on top of the tower and strike the hours on a great bell with their heavy hammers. First one man raises his hammer and strikes the bell and then the other man strikes it, until the right hour has been struck, from one to twenty-four o'clock, which is midnight.

It seemed strange for Molly and May to go to bed at nineteen o'clock instead of seven, but that was what they did in Italy, for there the clock faces have twenty-four hours on them instead of twelve.

There is another tower on the piazza, too, much taller than the Clock Tower. It is the Cathedral Bell Tower, and it stands nearly in front of the beautiful cathedral.

A few years ago the tower which had stood on this spot for a thousand years fell quite suddenly, for the bricks with which its walls were made were turning to dust. But the Venetian people soon built a new tower just like the old one on the same spot, and they expect it to stand another thousand years.

Molly and May climbed to the top of this tall tower and looked out over the wonderful city surrounded by the beautiful blue water. They saw the green trees of the public gardens, and the orange and blue sails of fishing boats coming slowly in, loaded with fish caught out in the deeper sea. They tried to count the many gondolas moving quietly through the busy canals, and they watched the tiny pigeons fluttering about on the piazza below.

Around three sides of the piazza are handsome little shops, with a broad covered sidewalk in front of them. Nearly everything that is nice can be bought in these shops, from beautiful laces to delicious ice cream.

The Sunbonnet Babies often begged to sit by one of the small tables on the covered sidewalk and have some cherry ice cream while the band played in the center of the piazza.

The Piazza of St. Mark is really a wonderful place. It is the open-air reception room for all the Venetian people, as well as for many strangers who come to visit their city--yes, and for hundreds of beautiful pigeons, too.

But Molly and May loved the whole of Venice. They liked to wander along the busy, narrow footpaths and see how the people worked and played. They found they could walk all over the city on these narrow streets, for there are nearly four hundred little foot-bridges which cross the many canals. Some of the bridges have steps going up on one side and down on the other.

The largest and finest bridge is called the Rialto Bridge. It has two rows of small shops on it, much like the famous bridge in Florence.

Molly and May liked to go shopping on the Rialto. They always bought a bag of big red cherries, for Italian cherries are almost better than chocolate creams.

THE GONDOLIER'S HOME

Every day Antonio, their gondolier, came to take the Sunbonnet Babies and their parents for a ride in his graceful boat.

Antonio usually wore blue trousers and a white shirt, open at the neck and fastened with a large red tie. But some days he dressed all in white, with a bright red sash around his waist. Then he looked very handsome indeed.

One morning Antonio invited the Sunbonnet Babies to visit his home and see his little girls. Antonio had lived in America seven years and could speak English quite well.

"My little girls want to see you very much," he said. "I have told them all about your pretty blue eyes and your big sunbonnets. Will you come with me to-day?"

So it happened that Molly and May were soon gliding through narrow canals into a part of Venice they had not seen before.

It was morning, and they passed a milk man delivering his milk in a flat-bottomed boat.

"That is a new kind of milk cart," exclaimed Molly. "In Naples they have live milk carts, and in Holland they have dog carts, and here in Venice they have boats."

"And see! There is a man with a boat load of vegetables," said May. "He has just sold a string of onions and a cauliflower to the woman standing in the doorway. If she should step out of her door she would step right into the canal. O Antonio! Is that the only door into her house?"

"Oh, no!" said Antonio. "Nearly every house in Venice has a canal door on one side and a footpath door on the other side."

"See the woman up there on her balcony," said Molly. "She is lowering a basket by a long rope. What is she saying, Antonio?"

"She wants a cauliflower and a string of onions, too, but she thinks the man is asking too much for them. She has put a lira into her basket and she is telling the man that he must not touch it unless he is willing to give her a good cauliflower and a long string of onions for it. The other woman had to pay a lira and a half for them. We will watch and see what happens."

"The man talks as if he didn't like it," said Molly. "But see! He is putting them into her basket and is taking out the lira. Now he has laid a red rosebud on top of the onions. He is lifting his hat and smiling at her while she pulls up the basket."

"I knew she would get them," said Antonio. "She is a good business woman."

As they glided along under the arch of a low bridge, May asked, "How can your water streets always look so clean, Antonio? Don't people ever throw things into them?"

"Oh, yes!" answered Antonio, "But our canals are all washed out twice a day. The tide brings two or three feet of water into every canal in Venice, and when it goes out it carries all the refuse away into the sea. It is very easy to keep our city streets clean."

"But, Antonio, why did the people want to build a city 'way out here in the water? Why didn't they stay on the land?" asked Molly.

"Well, it was because, thirteen hundred years ago, the Huns came down from the north and drove many of the Italian people away from their homes and spoiled their towns. The only safe place for them seemed to be out here on some small, low islands, so they came and began to make new homes for themselves. They soon liked it here and built better homes and fine ships. They sailed their ships far away and traded with many people. They built their houses and beautiful palaces and churches on great wooden posts which they brought from other lands. After a while their city became the richest and most beautiful city in all the world. We are not so rich now, but Venice is just as beautiful and we are very proud of her."

"Of course you are," said May. "It is like living in a wonderful, great picture book. I should like to live here always."

"Well, this is where my little children live," said Antonio, as he stopped his gondola in front of a low door just above the water's edge.

"Anita mia! Maria! Come quickly! Here are two little friends for you."