to possess your soul in patience for a while longer. By the way, your bird
should have a name. Have you any in mind?"

"Not yet, although I've been thinking about that very thing," Andrea
answered meditatively; "no name seems good enough."

"I think 'bambino' would be nice," suggested Maria; "he's such a darling
baby."

"Si, but he will soon be grown up" put in Andrea; "I was wondering how
Marco would do."

"Well, I don't say it wouldn't do," Paolo answered reflectively; "but it
seems to me something like 'caro' or 'amato' [Footnote: Dear--beloved]
might be appropriate for such a pet."

Andrea shook his head. And, after again racking his brain in an effort to
suggest a really appropriate name, the old man finally slapped his hand on
his side:

"It just comes to me this instant, something I heard one of those touristas
call a little curly dog by. At the time it occurred to me that it sounded
more like a name for a pigeon."

"What was it?" Andrea inquired eagerly.

"Chico," Paolo answered, lingering on the first syllable, exactly as the
tourista had done--"Chee-ko."

Andrea was charmed, agreeing that there was something about it that seemed