approached her, was learning to love with the best love of his
nature.

Besides the Italian lessons, Giovanni taught his little pupil to
sing several of the popular songs of his native city of Naples, and
to perform several of his national dances; watching with an ever-new
delight the grace and ease of her movements, and the quickness with
which she caught at his every hint and gesture.

Occasionally, Cherry insisted upon making Pantalon join in the
dance; and the somewhat sombre face of the Italian would ripple all
over with laughter as he watched her efforts to subdue the
creature's motions to grace and harmony, and to cultivate in his
bestial brain her own innate love of those divine gifts.

"You will never make him dance as if of heaven, as you do,
picciola," said he one day; and Cherry suddenly stood still, and,
dropping the monkey's paws, came to her teacher's side, asking
eagerly,--

"Have you been to heaven too? and did you see me dance there?"

"Padre Johannes says we all came from heaven; so I suppose I did,
and perhaps Pantalon also," said the Italian with a comical grimace:
"but, if so, I have long forgotten what I saw there. Do you remember
heaven, picciola?"

"Yes; I don't now," slowly replied the child with the weary and
puzzled look she so often wore. "Sometimes I do. I used to dance;
and mamma-that wasn't mammy-was there: but there was a naughty lady