ould be living; now would we be taking much care."

For many weeks they feared lest the father might follow the mother, but
he began to take a new interest in life on the day when Peppino brought
home his bride, and when Ricuzzu was born he soon became almost his old
self.

"Things it is like that," said Peppino; "the young ones are coming to dry
the eyes that have tears in them because the old ones are going away."

Brancaccia's attention was occupied by the tea and the baby, and by
trying to follow Peppino's talk. He has been giving her English lessons
and, though she has not yet got much beyond saying, "Me no speakare
l'Inglese," she is quick enough to know what he is talking about,
especially as she has heard most of it before. She now said a few words
in dialect, evidently reminding him of something, and he at once began to
tell me about their wedding tour. He had told me some of it last time I
was there, and how he had wanted to take his bride to England and show
her London, but they had not time enough, and that journey has been put
off for some future occasion. They went to Venice, which was a
particularly suitable place, because his cousin Vanni was there with his
ship, the _Sorella di Ninu_, unloading a cargo of wine; they crossed by
night to Naples, and Peppino showed Brancaccia Pompeii and all the
sights; then they went to Rome for a few days and on, through Florence,
to Venice. They stayed there a week, and then Vanni, having unloaded his
wine, took them down the Adriatic and brought them safely home again.

"It was sun," said Peppino, "and we was in Venice, Sammarco Place, where
is--how speak you the colomba?--Excuse me, it is the dove. And there was
different other people also--love-people, the young ones that go to the
field in the spring to take the flower Margherita, and to be pulling the
leaves to know the future, plenty many; also sposi, and some that bring
the macchina to make the picture, and the bride was to be standing with
the colomba in the hand. She put the grain in the hand, and would have a
colomba that was with his feet in her finger and eat the grain; but the
bridegroom was not clever to take the photograph and the colomba
was--what is it?--he was finish his grain and flied away, and she was
telling to her sposo:

"'Now you are not clever to take the photograph and you shall be obliged
to pay for another packet of grain.'

"In the second time, not only a colomba was in the hand