"To-night I'll sing instead, my little Beppo," answered Punchinello. He was weary, and when he whirled his head grew dizzy. "I'll sing you a song of ships that sail through seas of clouds; and trees as sing the world to slow sleep when winds do blow."
But little Beppo wished to see him dance. "See, Punchinello," said he softly, "around your neck I tie my locket. It is my only treasure. They say my mother placed it on me when she died. It has a bluebird painted on it which is the only bird I've ever seen. Now wilt thou dance for me, dear Punchinello?" He kissed the clown's queer painted face, and Punchinello danced.
And never had he danced so well before. As though he heard afar the music that the fairies make at midnight, he waltzed and twirled faster and yet faster, pausing not at all. He pranced, he leaped and spun upon his toe as though he were a dancing doll wound up to dance so long. The little lame child watched him eagerly, and as he watched, as though he too heard magic strains from fairyland, he sprung up from his cot and straightway danced and whirled about in Punchinello's footsteps.
"Look, look, dear Punchinello!" little Beppo cried. "I am no longer lame but dance as well as you yourself."
"Look, look, dear Punchinello!" little Beppo cried. "I am no longer lame."—Page 116.
But Punchinello, whirling like a leaf, made no reply. He sang his gayest songs and leaped so lightly in the air, there seemed to be a thousand harlequins, and little Beppo followed lightly after. Suddenly the child stopped, for Punchinello was no longer dancing.
"Oh, my good Punchinello!" he exclaimed. "Why did you run away? I'll follow after you," and down the ladder he swiftly sped. He saw the white tents shining in the moonlight. "Indeed, I'll join the circus with my Punchinello," said he to himself, "and travel around the world with him."
But alas! Poor Punchinello had not stolen off, as little Beppo thought. For while in his wild dance that charmed the lame child's pain away, poor Punchinello felt himself grow ill. His head grew giddy, and at last he fell upon the floor, and there the nurses found him in the morning. They placed poor Punchinello on the bed where little Beppo had lain for so many years, and wondered whence the clown had come.