am on his, and they had a
little crowd of merry-makers around them in a moment.

Roman whistles are made of pewter, terra-cotta, or wood, in every
shape of bird, or beast, or fish. Rafael had a bird-whistle, Edith's
was a yellow butterfly, and the tops which they spun were dressed like
dolls, in many fantastic costumes.

As he had said in Venice, so Rafael called to his audience in Rome,
when he had a little space cleared for the performance, "Signor Rafael
Valla will now present his troupe of trained tops!"

"It is for the earthquake sufferers," he had taught Edith to say in
Italian, and she had no sooner said it than the tops were all as good
as sold.

"It is a pity we had not time to make more," said Edith, when the last
one was gone, and they were counting their gains in their room at the
hotel.

"You would make a good business man, Rafael," she said suddenly. "The
tops cost you only ten lire, and you have sold them for twenty times
as much."

But the boy was tired and made no answer for a few moments. Perhaps
the tops reminded him of home. After a little, he said, "I think my
mother must be very lonely in Venice, when she reads of those who have
been made homeless in Messina."

Mrs. Sprague looked at him wisely and nodded her head. "Edith and I
must go home to America," she said. "Our friends will be worried about
us, and will fear for our safety, after this terrible earthquake."

So they began to plan for leaving Rome at once. The keepsakes and
treasures were all packed, the last calls were made, and the night
before their departure arrived.

"Let us say good-bye to the Eternal City at the Fountain of Trevi,"
Edith suggested to Rafael. "I have heard that whoever wishes to return
to Rome, should go to the fountain on the last evening of his visit,
take a drink out of the basin with his left hand, then turn and throw
a half-penny into the water over his left shoulder. I surely wish to
come back some day."

"And I," said Rafael. "Let us find some half-pennies at once."

It was a cold, clear, moonlight night, and the two children hurried
through the streets, chatting merrily over their errand.

They passed an old woman carrying a scaldino under her shawl. "We
shall need a scaldino ourselves," Edith said, "to warm our fingers
after we have dipped them in the cold water."

A scaldino is a little brazier for holding coals of fire. The Italians
carry one about with them in winter, and when they sit down t