little crisp cakes out of her pocket and began to munch them.

"Ask her to have some of ours," Paul said in a whisper.

"That is exactly what I wish to do, but it is rather a difficult matter."

As she, however, glanced from time to time at our provisions, I felt sure
that she would still be hungry when she had finished what she had with
her; so, as soon as her frugal meal was over, I said to her:

"It would be very kind of you if you would take some of this fruit."

Again she said "Mica!" but less crossly than before.

"Well, then," I said, "may I offer you a little wine? I see you have not
drunk anything. It is Italian wine, and as we are now in your own
country, we should be very pleased to see such a pretty Italian mouth
accept the offer of its French neighbors."

She shook her head slightly, evidently wishing to refuse, but very
desirous of accepting, and her mica this time was almost polite. I took
the flask, which was covered with straw in the Italian fashion, and
filling the glass, I offered it to her.

"Please drink it," I said, "to bid us welcome to your country."

She took the glass with her usual look, and emptied it at a draught, like
a woman consumed with thirst, and then gave it back to me without even
saying "Thank you."

I then offered her the cherries. "Please take some," I said; "we shall be
so glad if you will."

Out of her corner she looked at all the fruit spread out beside her, and
said so rapidly that I could scarcely follow her: "A me non piacciono ne
le ciriegie ne le susine; amo soltano le fragole."

"What does she say?" Paul asked.

"That she does riot care for cherries or plums, but only for
strawberries."

I put a newspaper full of wild strawberries on her lap, and she ate them
quickly, tossing them into her mouth from some distance in a coquettish
and charming manner.

When she had finished the little red heap, which soon disappeared under
the rapid action of her hands, I asked her:

"What may I offer you now?"

"I will take a little chicken," she replied.

She certainly devoured half of it, tearing it to pieces with the rapid
movements of her jaws like some carnivorous animal. Then she made up her
mind to have some cherries, which she "did not like," and then some
plums, then some little cakes. Then she said, "I have had enough," and
sat back in her corner.

I was much amused, and tried to make her eat more, insisting, in fact,
till she suddenly flew into a rage, an