He was quite ready to help me, and told me there were two companies in
the town, one of large puppets, about as high as my umbrella, the others,
to which he went every evening, being rather smaller. Accordingly, at
about a quarter to eight, he called for me, wrapped in his melodramatic
cloak, and hurried me through the wet and windy streets to the teatrino.
He kept me on his right hand because he was the host and I the guest, and
if, owing to obstructions, he found me accidentally on his left he was
round in a moment and I was in the place of honour again. He insisted on
paying for our seats, fifteen centimes each, and we went in.

This teatrino was in every way a much smaller place than that in Catania;
it belonged to a private gentleman who had bought the puppets for his own
amusement and spent much of his time among them, sometimes working them
himself. He has since married and parted with them and the theatre is
now (1908) closed. No complaint could be made about the seating
arrangements or the ventilation. There were benches on the floor with a
passage down the middle, a few rows in front were reserved for boys at
ten centimes each and at the other end of the hall was a small gallery
for ladies, twenty centimes each. I asked Mario so many questions that
he proposed we should go behind the scenes, which was exactly what I
wanted. He spoke to one of the authorities, who was politeness itself
and, showing us through a door and up three steps, introduced us behind
the curtain. Our heads were high above the opening of the proscenium,
which was about the size and shape of the opening of the fireplace in a
fairly large room. We were in a grove of puppets hanging up against the
walls like turkeys in a poulterer's shop at Christmas--scores and scores
of them. There were six or eight men preparing for the performance and a
youth, Pasquale, took charge of us and pointed out the principal figures.

"This warrior," he said, "is Ferrau di Spagna."

He was in tin armour, carefully made and enriched with brass and copper
ornamentation, all as bright as a biscuit-box. I said--

"He looks a very terrible fellow. Why is he so red about the eyes?" for
the whites of his eyes were redder than his cheeks.

"Because he is always in a rage. And this lady is Angelica, Empress of
Cathay; she wears a crown and will die this evening. This is her
husband, Medoro; he is a black man and wears a crown; he will perish
to-night by t