He went on, through the maze of hardware and pink petticoats and flower stalls, and the stalls with bright-colored fish and tiny talking birds. He bought two fish to give to Anna, and a new belt for himself. At last he came to the umbrellas. Under a bright purple awning they were hanging down like a stumpy green fringe.
The man selling them was bent double, counting shiny lire from his pocket into a copper pitcher on the ground. All Giorgio could see of him was the bright green patch on the seat of his trousers. It was the same green as the umbrellas!
When the man stopped a moment in his counting to peer around for customers, Giorgio nearly dropped his fish.
"Uncle Marco!" he shouted. "Uncle Marco!"
With a clanking jangle the remaining money fell into the pitcher uncounted. The man spun around, at the same time pushing back his feathered hat and squinting his eyes to make sure. Then he leaped over the pitcher, grabbed Giorgio by the shoulders, and bellowed for all the world to hear. "Giorgio! Giorgio Terni!" Fiercely, fondly, he embraced the boy, kissing him man-fashion, first on one cheek, then the other.
A little crowd began gathering and Uncle Marco smiled beatifically at the ready-made audience. "Signori!" he announced, "I wouldn't believe mine eyes. Behold the little runt from Monticello!" He spoke with reverence, with ecstasy. There were tears in his eyes.
"This brave young fantino," he explained, "is more Sienese than the Sienese! Some day he will conquer curve of San Martino. You listen to your Umbrella Man! This boy will be a fantino formidabile! The Palio ... he will win it!"