power; so that, for more than three
weeks, the beans went in regularly and the halfpence in Tuttu's store,
which he kept like a magpie hidden away in a crack of the woodwork,
increased rapidly.

Old Maddalena had long ago forgiven the children, for though she was
often angry with them, she loved them really. She guessed that Tuttu
was determined to replace the _scaldino_, as on several occasions he
had not been able to resist a veiled hint on the subject; but she
pretended perfect ignorance, and the two little boys might whisper and
laugh to their heart's content--it was quite certain she never heard
anything!

One soft evening in May, Tuttu came into the Palazzo garden in a state
of great excitement. His last basket of weeds had been handed in to
Father Giacomo, and the entire sum for the _scaldino_ lay in small
copper pieces in a crumpled scarlet pocket handkerchief.

"It's all here," whispered Tuttu, one great smile stretching across
his good-tempered little face. "Every penny of it!--Shall it be brown
or yellow? It must have a pattern. We'll go into Siena to-morrow and
buy it."

"To Siena!" said Tutti in an awe-struck whisper, "We've never been
there by ourselves."

"Never mind, we're older now," replied Tuttu. "Don't you say anything
about it, it's to be a surprise from beginning to end."

Tutti agreed, as he always did with his brother. Of course Tuttu knew
best, and it would sure to be all right.

CHAPTER III.

They started early in the morning, having put on their holiday clothes
and brushed themselves; and as Bianca, who had come over from the
Padre's house, insisted on following them, they tied a string to her
red collar and determined to let her share the pleasure of their visit
to the "great town."

Their grandmother was still sleeping, but they left word with the
gardener's boy that they had gone into Siena "on business."

This sounded well, Tuttu thought, and would disarm suspicion.

The walk along the dusty high road was long and tiring, and they were
glad when they arrived safely in the Piazza, where the market people
had already begun to collect, for it was market day.

Tuttu carried his precious earnings tied up with intricate knots in
the handkerchief, and stowed away in the largest of his pockets. He
walked with conscious pride, knowing that he was a person of
"property," and entering the pottery shop at the corner of the Piazza,
began to cunningly tap the _scaldinos_, and peer int