"There's no doubt," he mused, more to himself than to his listeners, "but
that he could find his way from such near-by points as the Ducal Palace and
the Bridge of Sighs--I'm disposed to take him farther away for his first
trial--say to the Rialto."

"Bene! bene!" [Footnote: Good! good!] shouted Andrea, clapping his hands.

"Then," continued the old man, without paying any attention to the
interruption, "if he does well from such distances as that, we'll gradually
take him farther away--perhaps to the Lido and--"

"To the Lido," repeated Andrea, to whom this seemed a great distance. "Do
you think he could find his way from there?"

"Without the least difficulty," was the answer, "and within a few weeks,
unless I miss my guess; after a while we'll have to arrange to try him from
other parts of Italy--Milan, for instance."

"Milan! Other parts of Italy!" The children found it hard to fancy cooing
little Chico finding his way home from distant cities, and in spite
of himself, Andrea's eyes filled with tears, as he faltered,
"I--wouldn't--want--him to get--lost!"

"Not much danger of that, I fancy. If he doesn't fall down on the easy
flights, he'll be able to take the longer ones.

"Why, lad," Paolo went on kindly, touched by the boy's dejection, "if you
want Chico to be a real homing pigeon, you must expect him to run some
risks. Don't you remember Dandolo's bird that carried the glad news from
Constantinople?"