"But suppose one day Mattia gets a bang on his poor head?"
"That would not be so hard if he received the blow for a friend," he said, smiling.
We did not return to the Red Lion Court until night. My father and mother passed no remark upon our absence. After supper my father drew two chairs to the fireside, which brought a growl from my grandfather, and then asked us to tell him how we had made enough money to live on in France. I told the story.
"Not only did we earn enough to live on, but we got enough to buy a cow," said Mattia with assurance. In his turn he told how we came by the cow.
"You must be clever kids," said my father; "show us what you can do."
I took my harp and played a piece, but not my Neapolitan song. Mattia played a piece on his violin and a piece on his cornet. It was the cornet solo that brought the greatest applause from the children who had gathered round us in a circle.
"And Capi, can he do anything?" asked my father. "He ought to be able to earn his food."
I was very proud of Capi's talents. I put him through all his tricks and as usual he scored a great success.
"Why, that dog is worth a fortune," exclaimed my father.
I was very pleased at this praise and assured him that Capi could learn anything that one wished to teach him. My father translated what I said into English, and it seemed to me that he added something more which made everybody laugh, for the old grandfather winked his eye several times and said, "Fine dog!"