shoulders and knees, the birds flitting about his head.

Gigi thought he had never seen so wonderful a sight. "Oh!" thought he,
"if I could only do this, what money might I not take from a crowd on
market-days!"

After talking to his pets and caressing them tenderly, the old man
dismissed them to the outdoor sunshine, so that he was alone with Gigi,
who could then be free to move and speak once more.

"The beloved innocents!" said the Hermit, with a sigh. "Who could ever
willfully injure one of them. God's creatures?--But now, my son, tell
me about yourself," he broke off. "Who are you? Whence do you come?
Whither are you going?"

"I do not know," said Gigi simply, in answer to all three questions.
And then he told his story as he had told it to Mother Margherita.

The old man listened pitifully. "Poor little lad!" he said. "Men have
been cruel to you, also. You have no home, no friends, no past, and no
future. What shall we do with you?"

"Oh, let me stay with you!" cried Gigi, clasping his hands. "You are
so good and wise. Teach me! Teach me to be good and wise, too. Take
me into your animal kingdom, and teach me to make them all my friends.
I could do such tricks with them,--far better than tumbling. I should
grow rich!"

The old man shook his head. "That cannot be," he said. "I cannot
teach men to grow rich. Nor would I see my animals made ridiculous for