oks, and nature, and determined
to keep them all together. "If we live in town," he said, "I can't do
this; I am not very rich, so I will remain in my country home, and my
boys and I will have a life of our own." Such a merry, merry life as the
boys had together. Everything was turned to play for them, even their
studies. Their principal delight was acting, and in their little plays,
queer compounds of Grecian dramas and childish dreams, each one had his
regular part. It was Pietro who was always the main figure, made the
grandest speeches, and prayed the longest prayers--for they had
religious dramas sometimes--and strutted around the most. They made
Giuseppe their hero for all that, carried him in on their shoulders from
battle, and crowned him with laurel at the end of the fourth act
regularly. Domenico played the scholar: he had so grave an air, so
learned a mien. Guido was the soldier boy. Let him but throw his cap on
his wavy hair, or toss his coat over his shoulder and strut upon the
mimic stage, and you would have sworn he was armed to the teeth, and
that you could hear the click of his spurs.

How Barnaba loved Guido! How he would twirl his long hair over his
finger secretly, hoping 'twould wave, and try to strut in on the stage
heroically too. But he was sure to blunder a bit, poor Barnaba. He was
the youngest, you see, and had poor parts given him that he didn't suit.
He was not meant for a page, and sometimes, while Pietro would strut
around and puff and declaim, little Barnaba was clenching his nervous
hands tightly behind him, and longing that he might speak out like a man
too. But no one ever dreamed that the stiff little page, with the long
hair and the wondering eyes, had any wishes other than to make a good
page. For Barnaba had a firm mouth, spite of the tremble at the corners,
and it was always readier to shut than to open.

The other three boys, Luigi, Leonardo, and Leone, were good boys and
happy boys, but they were by nature "the populace." They were always
ready to come in on the stage as "the excited crowd" or "the hooting
rabble." They threw up their hats and cried, "Si, si" splendidly, but
then they would cry, "No, no" just as well if it was their part to do
so. So you can see they made a capital populace. Very near them, in a
beautiful villa, there lived for a while in the summer time, once a
little girl. Henrighetta she was called by her friends, but the boys'
father bade them call her la s