anger over every thing, said, as loud as he could, "I would rather it
were Stineli!"

Then he crept quickly under the coverlet, so that the priest need not
know where the voice came from. His mother, however, was dreadfully
shocked, and begged the good man, who now entered the room, not to take
offence at this greeting, as it was not really so bad as it sounded.

Silvio did not stir, but said softly, under the bed-cover,--

"I really mean just what I say."

The father must have had a suspicion of where the voice came from. He
stepped at once to the bedside; and, though there was not a hair of
Silvio's head even to be seen, he said, "God bless you, my son! how are
you? How is your health nowadays? and why do you creep into this hidden
hole like a little badger? Come out, and explain it all to me. What do
you mean by Stineli?"

Now Silvio crept forth, for he had the priest in great respect now that
he was so close to him. He stretched out his little thin hand in
greeting, and said, "Rico's Stineli, I mean."

His mother now interposed with the explanation, for the father shook his
head very doubtfully as he seated himself by the bedside. The good woman
related the whole affair about Stineli, and told how her little boy had
got the idea firmly fixed in his noddle that he would never be well
again unless this Stineli could come to him; and how even Rico had
become unreasonable, and declared that he could go to fetch Stineli,
even though he did not know a single stock nor stone of the way; and it