“Aunty!” gasped Betty.
“Never mind, I have a reason for my question, Betty. Hush, what does he say?”
“Do you like to play in the circus, dear?” asked Mrs. Cioche’s kind voice, in Italian.
Natale’s eyes shone.
“Ah, yes, signora! And when I am a man, I shall be another Antonio Bisbini.”
“He says he likes it very much, Mrs. Bishop,” was the interpretation.
“Already corrupted, poor boy, and so young!” the old lady sighed, while Betty laughed outright.
“Ask him if he would not like better to have some nice clothes, and go to school, and grow up to be a decent man some day, Mrs. Choky.” That lady hesitated a little before putting this question into Italian.
“What does she say to me?” Natale asked, his brown eyes twinkling as he looked from one to the other, his teeth showing white between his red lips. Natale’s was a wide, good-natured mouth, very prone to laugh upon small provocation.
“She wants to know if you would not like to go to school, and learn to read and write,” said Madame Cioche.