and told him of the terrible circumstances, and of the wicked men whom
Rico would have to encounter, and who might ruin him. But nothing had
the slightest effect. The little fellow had set his heart upon this
thing as he never had upon any thing before; and whatever his mother
brought forward, and no matter how anxiously she insisted, the moment
she ceased the child said, "Rico must go to fetch her: he knows where to
find her."

Then his mother replied, "And even if he does know, do you mean to say
that he would run the risk and go into such dangerous places, when he
can live comfortably as he does here, and never have to do with any
wicked men again?"

Then Silvio looked at Rico, and said, "Will you go to fetch Stineli,
Rico, or not?"

"Yes; I will," said Rico firmly.

"Oh, merciful heavens! now Rico is getting unmanageable too," cried the
mother, quite horrified. "And now I do not know what to do. Take your
fiddle, Rico, and play something, and sing; I must go into the garden."
And the good woman ran quickly forth into the garden under the
fig-trees, for she thought that her little son would forget the thing
more quickly if he had not a chance to talk to her about it.

But the two good friends within neither played nor sang, but excited
each other almost to fever point with all kinds of representations of
how Stineli should be brought there, and of what would happen afterwards
when she had fairly arrived. Rico utterly forgot to take his leave,
although it was quite dark; and Mrs. Menotti purposely remained in the