ly, but the treacherous flowers
had still power to console him; at least, he could tear them to
pieces. But by-and-by when the sun mounted high over the tops of the
forest-clad mountains, and poured down its burning rays, swallowing up
all the shade and glittering like flame on every leaf, Gigi grew hot
and weary. He was very empty, too; it was just the time that Pipa fed
him. His stomach craved for food. He craved for Pipa, too, for home,
for the soft pressure of Pipa's ample bosom, where he lay so snug.

Gigi looked round. He did not sob now, but set up a hideous roar,
the big tears coursing down his fat cheeks, marking their course by
furrows in the dirt and grime. The wood echoed to Gigi's roars. He
roared for mammy, for daddy (Angelo Gigi cannot say, it is too long
a word). He kicked away the flowers with his pretty dimpled feet,
the false flowers that had betrayed him. The babe cannot reason, but
instinct tells him that those painted leaves have wronged him. They
are faded now, and lie soiled and crumpled, the ghosts of what they
were. Again Gigi tries to rise and run, but he is drawn roughly down
by the grass rope. He tries to tear it asunder, in vain; Angelo had
taken care of that. At last, hoarse and weary, Gigi subsided into
terrible sobs, that heave his little breast. Sobbing thus, with
pouting lips and heavy eyes, he waits his fate.

It comes with Angelo!--Angelo, leaping downward through the checkered
glades, his pockets stuffed with chestnuts. Like an angel with healing
in his wings, Angelo comes to Gigi. When he spies him out, Gigi rises,
unsteady on his little feet--rises up, forgetting all, and clasps his
hands. When Angelo comes near, and stands beside him, Gigi flings his
chubby arms about his neck, and nestles to him.

Angelo, when he sees Gigi's disfigured face and sodden eyes, feels
his conscience prick him. With his pockets full of chestnuts he
pities Gigi; he kisses him, he takes him up, and bears him in his arms
quickly toward home. The happy child closes his weary eyes, and falls
asleep on Angelo's shoulder. Pipa, when she sees Angelo return--so
careful of his little brother--praises him, and gives him a new-baked
cake. Gigi can tell no tales, and Angelo is silent.

While Pipa sweeps and sings, Angelo and Gigi are roasting these very
chestnuts on a heap of ashes under the window outside. Enrica sat near
them--a little apart--on a low wall, that bordered the summit of the
cliff. The zone of