The old man nodded. "Yes, and if you have no objections, we'll give him the first lesson next Saturday morning."
As if surmising that he was the subject of discussion, Chico flew back to Andrea's shoulder, where he coo-ooed blissfully, while Paolo unfolded to his eager listeners the details as he had planned them.
CHAPTER VI
TRAINING
As a first step he had secured a wicker basket with a close-fitting cover which roused the liveliest curiosity and caused Andrea to ask, doubtfully:
"What has a basket to do with teaching a pigeon?"
"Just about everything," the old man wisely replied. "By carrying the bird in a dark basket to the place from which he is to make his flight, he will have no way of acquainting himself with the direction in which he traveled, and, when released, must depend entirely upon his homing instinct."
"Chico won't like being shut up in a dark prison," interrupted Maria, stretching up to caress the glossy neck; "it's like being blindfolded."
"Perhaps not," was the rejoinder, "but if he is going to be trained to be a faithful homer, he will have to spend a good deal of time in the same dark prison. It's part of the discipline of his life." As he finished, he began tracing figures on the pavement, and the children, wondering still more, watched him, fascinated.
"There's no doubt," he mused, more to himself than to his listeners, "but that he could find his way from such near-by points as the Ducal Palace and the Bridge of Sighs—I'm disposed to take him farther away for his first trial—say to the Rialto."