ta, I am in earnest. It is lonely here in Venice now that I
have no people. And Murano is not what it was in the golden days of my
ancestors. I am sure I could find work in your country if I should go
there. Do you not think I could, senor?" He turned to Mr. Cabot.

"It is possible," was Uncle Bob's thoughtful answer. "Especially since
you speak English so well. What sort of thing would you like to do?"

"I know my trade of glass-making," was Giusippe's modest answer. "I
know, too, much of coloring stained glass and of mosaic making. These
things I have known from my babyhood up. There must be such work for
persons going to the United States. Perhaps my uncle, who is in
Pittsburgh with a large glass company, could get me something to do
there."

"Pittsburgh!" exclaimed the other three in a breath.

"Yes. My uncle is with the company of a Senor Thomas Curtis, who has
been very kind to him."

"Uncle Tom! It's Uncle Tom!" Jean cried, laying her hand impulsively on
his arm. "Mr. Curtis is my uncle, Giusippe. Did you ever hear anything
so wonderful!"

"It certainly is a strange coincidence," agreed Mr. Cabot. "But why did
your uncle come back, Giusippe, after he once got over there?"

"Ah, it was this way. He went first alone, expecting when he had enough
money to send it back so that the young girl he loved could follow him,
and they could be married. But when at last he had the money saved her
parents became sick. They were old people. She could not leave them to
die here alone, senor. Therefore she refused to go to America, and so
much did my uncle love Anita that he would not stay there without her.
Back he came and worked once more at Murano. Then the father and mother
died, and my uncle and Anita were married and went to the United
States. They wanted to take me, but I pretended that I would rather
remain here. This I did because I feared that if I went with them and
did not find work I might be a burden. All this was several years ago.
My uncle is now a superintendent in one of the Curtis glass factories,
and is happy and prosperous. Still, there are children, and I could not
let him pay my fare to America. As I said, it will not take me much
longer to save the rest of my passage money. Then I shall go and
perhaps become rich. Who knows, senor!" Giusippe broke into a ringing
laugh.

Mr. Cabot made no reply.

He was thinking.

Fearing that he had offended, Giusippe changed the subject.

"But I weary you w