The lodgings of Buttons and Dick were in a remarkably central part of Naples. The landlord was a true Neapolitan; a handsome, gay, witty, noisy, lively, rascally, covetous, ungrateful, deceitful, cunning, good-hearted old scoundrel, who took advantage of his guests in a thousand ways, and never spoke to them without trying to humbug them. He was the father of a pretty daughter who had all her parent's nature somewhat toned down, and expanded in a feminine mould.
Buttons had a chivalrous soul, and so had Dick; the vivacity of this very friendly young lady was like an oasis in the wilderness of travel. In the evening they loved to sit in the sunshine of her smile. She was singularly unconventional, this landlord's daughter, and made many informal calls on her two lodgers in their apartment.
An innocent, sprightly little maid--name Dolores--age seventeen-- complexion olive--hair jet black--eyes like stars, large, luminous, and at the same time twinkling--was anxious to learn English, especially to sing English songs; and so used to bring her guitar and sing for the Americans. Would they teach her their national song? "Oh yes happy beyond expression to do so."
The result, after ten lessons, was something like this:
"Anty Dooda tumma towna
By his sef a po-ne
Stacca fadda inna sat
Kalla Maccaroni."
She used to sing this in the most charming manner, especially the last word in the last line. Not the least charm in her manner was her evident conviction that she had mastered the English language.
"Was it not an astonishing thing for so young a Signorina to know English?"