with his hands out to
catch and punish the offender. "Come here, thou thorn in the eye!"
Then, as he saw the children of the Marchese grinning at him out of the
shadows, his hand went up in a salute instead. "Buona Pasqua, Donna
Beppina!" he cried, "and you too, Don Beppo! Why are you about at this
hour in the morning scaring honest people out of their wits?"

"Buona Pasqua, Pietro," laughed the Twins. "We are going out in the
garden, and we want you to open the door for us."

No one but the gardener and the members of the Grifoni family ever went
into the garden, which lay at the back of the palace, for the tenants
who occupied other portions of the ancient building were not allowed to
use it, and the Marchese Grifoni lived in Florence only during the
winter months. The rest of the year--and the children thought much the
best part of it--was spent in their beautiful vine-covered villa in the
hills near Padua.

Pietro selected a key from the jingling bunch which he carried at his
belt, and opened the old carved door. It was a charming sight which
greeted their eyes as the door swung back on its rusty hinges. The
garden was small, with a high wall all about it, over which ivy spread a
mantle of green. In the middle of the space a fountain splashed and
bubbled, and the garden borders were gay with yellow daffodils, blue
chicory, and white Florentine lilies. There were other delights also in
the Grifoni garden, for in the fountain lived Garibaldi, a turtle of
great age and dignity, and in the chinks of the walls were lizards which
liked nothing better than to be tickled with straws as they lay basking
in the sunshine.

The moment the children appeared, a cloud of pigeons swept down from the
neighbouring roofs and begged for food. Beppina held a piece of bread
between her lips, and a fat pigeon with glistening purple feathers on
his breast instantly lit upon her shoulder. He was followed by another
and another, until she flung up her arms and sent them all skyward in a
whirl of wings, only to return again a moment later to peck the morsel
from her lips.

As she was playing in this way with the pigeons, she chanced to glance
up at the windows of the porter's rooms which overlooked the garden.
There, gazing wistfully out at them, were six pairs of eyes, belonging
to Pietro's six children. Beppina waved her hand at them. "Come out!"
she cried gayly, and, wild with delight at such an unheard-of privilege,
th