delight, "Is it mine?"

Paolo nodded, and, after putting the boy down on the floor, gently lifted
Maria so that she, too, might put her fingers into the nest he had made for
the fledgling he had found on the pavement the evening before.

"It's a baby pigeon," she softly murmured.

"Si! Si!" the old caretaker declared, delighted at the sensation he had
caused, "I came across him all huddled up by yonder column."

"And may I really have him?" queried Andrea, finding it hard to realize
that he had gained his heart's desire.

"Why not? I doubt if the old birds will even notice he has gone. You
know when the mother has other eggs to take her attention, she gives the
fledglings into the care of the father bird, and it isn't very long before
he pushes them out to shift for themselves. There is no reason why this
particular one should not belong to you: in fact, I imagine he's a bit
lonesome in this strange place, though, to be sure, I did all I could to
make him comfortable, with a wisp of hay and a few dried sticks, but, at
best, I'm not much of a nest-maker. Come now, would you like to have a look
at him?"

"Si! Si!" the children cried together. And with that Paolo, after lighting
a bit of discarded candle and giving it to Andrea to hold, stretched up and
took the pigeon from the nest.

In the flickering light the children bent lovingly over the little
fluttering thing in the old man's hand; they had never before seen a young