Hardships at Salerno
Guiseppe was barely awake on the morning after the fete when he took out his money–bag to recount his gains.
"I'll sell these old puppets," he said to himself. "What do the few soldi they bring in amount to, compared with Pappina? If the minx only remains as bewitching as she is now, I'll not complain. Hang it all! Why can't every day be fete day!"
He glanced at the child, curled up on the ground, asleep.
"I may as well let her rest. It isn't much of a trip to Salerno, and I don't suppose it matters much when we get there; nothing special on hand there that I know of. I hope we'll find plenty of foreigners everywhere we go. They appreciate Pappina."
Guiseppe filled his pipe and as he smoked he wove a bright dream of wealth. Happy thought! He smiled broadly and joyfully rubbed his hands together.
"I'll take her to America!" he chuckled to himself. "Why not? The Punchinellos too!" His countenance fell. "No, no," he muttered, "I can't talk in English for the puppets. How, how am I to manage that?"
He became so absorbed in his thoughts that he forgot the pipe he was smoking. It dropped from his mouth as he exclaimed gleefully:
"Aha! I have it! A hand–organ in America with my beautiful Pappina! She'll make our fortune."
He picked up his pipe and jumped quickly to his feet, calling to Marta.