The other boys tried to lure him into their games and to practice his funny capitomboli but he would only sit quietly by, on the stone steps of the church, watching them till playtime was over, when he must sit up on the bench in the schoolroom again and hold his book before his eyes.
“He cannot keep up his sulking forever,” Sora Grazia said on the sixth day of Natale’s stay with her. Luigi was standing near her in the balcony, brushing the dust from the skirts of his long gown, which he shook vigorously with his strong hands, as his mother continued, “I confess that I am surprised he has taken things so quietly.”
“A little too quietly!” muttered Luigi into the folds of his gown.
“But now, one would like to see him brighten up a little instead of glooming over his food and everything else,” Sora Grazia went on. “He is not the same child he was a week ago, making his ridiculous capitomboli over the circus carpet. I wonder if he could turn a somersault now, Luigi.” The woman lifted her head from her work to look over at Natale, who sat on the low street wall with his feet dangling into the road.
“I gave him leave to go and play with the boys down in the field, this afternoon,” said Luigi, shaking his gown almost viciously. “He said he did not wish to go where his tent had been, and that he never expected to turn a somersault again.”
“Impertinent!” exclaimed Sora Grazia. “We’ll let him alone a while longer, and he’ll come all right. A child cannot sulk forever, as I said before.”
“But one can die of starvation and homesickness, perhaps,” quoth Luigi, stepping past his mother and springing up the stairs, his gown upon his arm.
Grazia’s retort was stayed upon her lips by what she now saw passing in the street.
CHAPTER VIII
THE CAGE DOOR OPENED
Natale, too, was looking up, but only dully, as a party of ladies and gentlemen sauntered toward him laughing and talking gayly as they came. Many such groups had passed him already, taking afternoon strolls toward the beautiful promenade of San Vito leading around the mountain side. But this particular group paused, when a spectacled old lady did, and all gathered about Natale, except the white-haired gentleman standing a little aloof and tapping the paving stones with his stick.