Eager to carry out his plan, Johnny tied a long string to his gayest poster, and then fastening it to the pole with which he sometimes fished in the water-cask, held it up to catch the fresh breezes blowing down the court. His good friend, the wind, soon caught the idea, and with a strong breath sent the red paper whisking over the wall, to hang a moment on the trees and then drop among the tulips, where its frantic struggles to escape waked the dog, and set him to racing and barking, as Johnny hurriedly let the string go, and put his eye to his peep-hole.
The eyes of the Princess were wide open now, and she clapped her hands when Pippo brought the gay picture for her to see; while the old woman, with a long yawn, went away, carrying her distaff, like a gun, over her shoulder.
"She likes it! I'm so glad. Wish I had some more to send over. This will come off, I'll poke it through, and maybe she will see it."
Very much excited, Johnny recklessly tore from the wall his most cherished picture, a gay flower-piece, just put up; and folding it, he thrust it through the hole and waited to see what followed.
Nothing but a rustle, a bark, and a queer croak from the splendid bird, which set the canaries to trilling sweetly.
"She don't see, maybe she will hear," said Johnny. And he began to whistle like a mocking-bird; for this was his one accomplishment, and he was proud of it.
Presently he heard a funny burst of laughter from the parrot, and then the voice said,--
"No, Polly, you can't sing like that bird. I wonder where he is? Among the bushes over there, I think. Come, Pippo, let us go and find him."
"Now she's coming!" And Johnny grew red in the face trying to give his best trills and chirrups.
Nearer and nearer came the steps, the lilacs rustled as if shaken, and presently the roll of paper vanished. A pause, and then the little voice exclaimed, in a tone of great surprise,--