PAGE 7
A Hole In The Wall
by
Meantime the little people prattled daily together, and all manner of things came and went between them. Flowers, fruit, books, and bonbons kept Johnny in a state of bliss, and inspired him with such brilliant inventions that the Princess never knew what agreeable surprise would come next. Astonishing kites flew over the wall, and tissue balloons exploded in the flower-beds. All the birds of the air seemed to live in that court; for the boy whistled and piped till he was hoarse, because she liked it. The last of the long-hoarded cents came out of his tin bank to buy paper and pictures for the gay little books he made for her. His side of the wall was ravaged that hers might be adorned; and, as the last offering his grateful heart could give, he poked the toad through the hole, to live among the lilies and eat the flies that began to buzz about her Highness when she came to give her orders to her devoted subjects.
She always called the lad Giovanni, because she thought it a prettier name than John; and she was never tired of telling stories, asking questions, and making plans. The favorite one was what they would do when Johnny came to see her, as she had been promised he should when papa was not too busy to let them enjoy the charms of the studio; for Fay was a true artist’s child, and thought nothing so lovely as pictures. Johnny thought so, too, and dreamed of the happy day when he should go and see the wonders his little friend described so well.
“I think it will be to-morrow; for papa has a lazy fit coming on, and then he always plays with me and lets me rummage where I like, while he goes out or smokes in the garden. So be ready; and if he says you can come, I will have the flag up early and you can hurry.”
These agreeable remarks were breathed into Johnny’s willing ear about a fortnight after the acquaintance began; and he hastened to promise, adding soberly, a minute after,–
“Mother says she’s afraid it will be too much for me to go around and up steps, and see new things; for I get tired so easy, and then the pain comes on. But I don’t care how I ache if I can only see the pictures–and you.”
“Won’t you ever be any better? Nanna thinks you might.”
“So does mother, if we had money to go away in the country, and eat nice things; and have doctors. But we can’t; so it’s no use worrying.” And Johnny gave a great sigh.
“I wish papa was rich, then he would give you money. He works hard to make enough to go back to Italy, so I cannot ask him; but perhaps I can sell my pictures also, and get a little. Papa’s friends often offer me sweets for kisses; I will have money instead, and that will help. Yes, I shall do it.” And Fay clapped her hands decidedly.
“Don’t you mind about it. I’m going to learn to mend shoes. Mr. Pegget says he’ll teach me. That doesn’t need legs, and he gets enough to live on very well.”
“It isn’t pretty work. Nanna can teach you to braid straw as she did at home; that is easy and nice, and the baskets sell very well, she says. I shall speak to her about it, and you can try to-morrow when you come.”
“I will. Do you really think I can come, then?” And Johnny stood up to try his legs; for he dreaded the long walk, as it seemed to him.
“I will go at once and ask papa.”
Away flew Fay, and soon came back with a glad “Yes!” that sent Johnny hobbling in to tell his mother, and beg her to mend the elbows of his only jacket; for, suddenly, his old clothes looked so shabby he feared to show himself to the neighbors he so longed to see.