"Oh, I like the soldiers," she cried happily. It was the first military parade she had ever seen, and she wanted to follow the marching troops down the street and lend her cheers to those of the crowd.
How grand the carriages were! How gay the people looked, tricked out in all the magnificence they could command! Pappina, looking at the surging mass of holiday–makers, asked: "Marta, is the whole world here to–day?"
Days before the fete Pappina had been taught to sing the Garibaldi. Guiseppe knew well the effect the song would have upon the people. For years he had sung it himself on fete day, but that was before he had his Punchinellos, before his voice had grown thin and cracked. Time and again he had scolded Marta because neither she nor the puppets could sing the Garibaldi.
Now he had a child with voice and beauty. As they paused at a crowded corner where he thought it would be well to have her sing, he looked at her with satisfaction. He had talked to her so much of the applause and soldi she would win that she could scarcely curb her impatience to begin. Like a high–bred, prancing horse eager to run, she stood with her gayly decorated tambourine ready, anxiously waiting for Guiseppe to bid her sing. When he said, "Canta," she needed no second bidding. Wildly she struck her tambourine. Her voice rang out:
"Viva! Viva! Viva! Garibaldi!"
Such a din of applause! She could scarcely hear her own voice, but loudly she continued: "Viva! Viva! Victor Emanuel!"
She need not pass her tambourine to–day. She need not even stop to pick up the soldi as they rained upon her. That was Marta and Guiseppe's pleasant task.
"Bravo! Bravo! Encore! Encore!" the crowd shouted, and Pappina sang the song over and over again.
As one throng left for new sights and amusements another took its place, and so the tambourine was filled again and again. Yet Guiseppe kept her singing and dancing, dancing and singing. Never, it seemed to Marta, would he be satisfied to let the child rest.
The woman noticed with anxiety and pain the bright, feverish spots burning on Pappina's cheeks, and the unusual brilliancy of her great black eyes. Several times she made bold to ask Guiseppe if she might not take the child home, but Guiseppe replied only with glances of contempt and indignation at her interference.