thorne, the name was derived from Apennino, and bestowed on the child
in babyhood, because Apennino was a colossal statue, and he was so very
small. It would be strange indeed that any joke connecting 'Baby' with a
given colossal statue should have found its way into the family without
father, mother, or nurse being aware of it; or that any joke should have
been accepted there which implied that the little boy was not of normal
size. But the fact is still more unanswerable that Apennino could by no
process congenial to the Italian language be converted into Penini.
Its inevitable abbreviation would be Pennino with a distinct separate
sounding of the central n's, or Nino. The accentuation of Penini is also
distinctly German.

During this winter in Paris, little Wiedemann, as his parents tried to
call him--his full name was Robert Wiedemann Barrett--had developed a
decided turn for blank verse. He would extemporize short poems, singing
them to his mother, who wrote them down as he sang. There is no less
proof of his having possessed a talent for music, though it first
naturally showed itself in the love of a cheerful noise. His father had
once sat down to the piano, for a serious study of some piece, when
the little boy appeared, with the evident intention of joining in the
performance. Mr. Browning rose precipitately, and was about to leave the
room. 'Oh!' exclaimed the hurt mother, 'you are going away, and he
has brought his three drums to accompany you upon.' She herself would
undoubtedly have endured the mixed melody for a little time, though her
husband did not think she seriously wished him to do so. But if he did
not play the piano to the accompaniment of Pen's drums, he played piano
duets with him as soon as the boy was old enough to take part in them;
and devoted himself to his instruction in this, as in other and more
important branches of knowledge.

Peni had also his dumb companions, as his father had had before him.
Tortoises lived at one end of the famous balcony at Casa Guidi; and
when the family were at the Baths of Lucca, Mr. Browning would stow away
little snakes in his bosom, and produce them for the child's amusement.
As the child grew into a man, the love of animals which he had inherited
became conspicuous in him; and it gave rise to many amusing and some
pathetic little episodes of his artist life. The creatures which he
gathered about him were generally, I think, more highly organized than
those w