Tessa, Our Little Italian Cousin

"They are so poor," Lucy told her brother one night, "that they eat meat only at great times, like Christmas. It costs too much for them to buy it every day as mother does. But they have plenty of fruit. I think the delicious figs and apricots that grow here in this country make up for a good deal of meat. And their mother makes salads of all kinds of vegetables. Perhaps they don't miss the meat as long as they are not used to eating it as we are."

"How did you know about their food?" asked Lucy's mother, who happened to hear what she said.

"It came about this way, mamma. We were in the kitchen the other day. I wanted to watch the maid cooking over the charcoal flames in that queer stone stove. And Tessa said then she had seen such a big piece of meat roasting for dinner only two or three times in her life. Then we went on talking and she spoke of what she usually had at home. Her mother uses olive oil in almost everything, just as our cook does. I should think it would be better than the lard we have in America, isn't it?"

"Yes, indeed, for it is much more wholesome. It is obtained from olives, you know, instead of the fat of pigs. People would use more of it in America if it did not cost so much by the time it has travelled across the ocean. But I hear your father's footsteps. Let us go and meet him."

The artist was not alone, for Tessa was with him. She was looking much pleased.

"It is raining hard," said Mr. Gray, "and I have just seen Tessa's father and asked him to let her spend the night with us. It is too great a storm for her to go out in. The little girl has done finely for me to-day, and she sat so well that I got along on my picture quite rapidly. So she will dine with us to-night and I will tell you stories in Italian. After that, we will have games."

Lucy ran and put her arms around Tessa's neck.

"What a good time we shall have," she cried. "Father tells lovely stories. Oh, Tessa, I wish you were my own sister."

Tessa turned her big dark eyes to the floor. There were tears in them, but they were tears of gladness. She had never had a cross word spoken to her in her whole life. She had never been punished for any little fault. But her loving little heart had not expected this: that the American child who was always dressed so beautifully, whose parents seemed so rich in her eyes, should wish a sister like her, a peasant girl. She could scarcely believe it.

The dinner seemed a very grand one to Tessa. One surprise was brought in after another. There were four separate courses! Last, came a delicious ice and frosted cakes. It seemed to the little Italian like a feast of the fairies.

After the dinner was over, the family went into the great drawing-room. Rugs were stretched here and there over the marble floor. There were soft couches and odd, spider-legged tables and chairs.

"We don't own the furniture," Lucy told her visitor. "It belongs here in the palace and is the same kind as the prince uses. He lives below us. It is beautiful, father thinks, but he does wish we could be warmer on these cold, windy days. You have very queer stoves in your country, Tessa. You should feel the heat that comes from ours in America." And Lucy held her hands over the jar filled with burning charcoal. It certainly gave the room little extra warmth.

"You look cold," Tessa answered, with her voice full of sympathy. "I do not feel so, though. I suppose it is because I have lived out-of-doors most of my life. But think, we do not have much weather like this, and it will soon be spring."

Yes, it was true. Christmas would be here in a few days, and then, then, the lovely spring would open with its violets, its daisies, and its strawberries.

"Are you ready with your story, father?" asked Lucy, as she perched herself on the arm of his chair. Arthur stretched himself on a rug at his father's feet, and at the same time drew Tessa on her low stool to his side.

"I shall have to be ready, at any rate, I think," her father answered, laughing. "So prepare to listen closely, for I must speak in Italian, that Tessa may understand.

"I wish you to imagine a time of long ago," he went on. "It was before any history was written about this country. There were many different tribes of people who lived along the shores of the rivers and built temples to strange gods. Those people believed in a god of the forest, and others of the ocean, the fruits, and the grains. Festivals were held in their honour.

"After many years, the country became great and powerful. This city was built and ships were sent from it to all parts of the known world. It was at this time also that art and poetry flourished. Sculptors modelled beautiful statues that we count among our greatest treasures to-day. And men wrote great books that you, Lucy and Arthur, will study, by and by.

"One of these writers was Virgil. He wrote in Latin, the language spoken by these people. The soft Italian words in use now are pleasant to the ear, but not as strong and grand as the old Latin tongue."

"Doesn't any one speak in Latin now, father?" asked Lucy.

"No, my dear. But it is studied, and the books written in Latin are read by scholars. Our own English language would be very poor if it had not received a great deal of help from the Latin. In fact, the same thing can be said of nearly every language used in the Western world to-day. But I am afraid you are getting tired. I will go back to my story.

"It was written by the poet Virgil, and tells of the wonderful things that happened to a prince called Æneas. He lived in Troy and was always called the Pious Æneas. This was because he was so good to his old father, and honoured the gods in whom he believed."

"Did he really live, father, or is this only a legend?" asked Arthur.

"We think now it is a legend, but the story is written as if every word were true, and belonged to the real history of Italy. But let me go on with my story.

"Æneas and his people had been conquered in a great battle, and their city was given up to their enemies. The young prince fled in the darkness, carrying his father on his back, and leading his little boy by the hand. His wife followed behind them. The old man carefully held some little images. They must not be left behind or lost, for they represented the gods in whom the Trojans believed and whom they worshipped.

"When they had gone a little way, Æneas found that his wife was no longer following them. What could have happened to her? He looked for her everywhere, but it was of no use. No trace of her could be found, and she was never heard of again.

"When Æneas and his men reached Mount Ida they built some ships and set sail. They would find a new home for themselves."

"But where was their old home, father? You called it Troy," said Lucy.

"Troy was a place in Asia Minor, near the strait with the long name of the Hellespont. This strait separates that part of Asia from Greece, and the rest of Europe. You can easily find it on your map. But remember this, as I go on, – in olden times the ships were small and people knew little about the seas or the great ocean, and seldom went far from home. What you would think of as a short voyage would have seemed a very long one to the people then.

"Many wonderful things happened to Æneas after he left Troy. After a while his provisions gave out, and he landed on the shore of an island to get some food. He found wild goats grazing there, and his men killed some of them. While they were feasting on the flesh of these creatures, the harpies appeared. They had the bodies of birds, but the faces of ugly old women."

Tessa shuddered. "Are there any real harpies?" she asked, eagerly.

"No, no, Tessa. Remember that this is only a legend.

"These horrible bird-hags flew down into the midst of the Trojans and destroyed their dinner. The men shot at them, but the arrows glanced off of the feathers, and not one of the harpies was harmed. Although most of them flew far away, they were very angry. One of them stayed long enough to cry in a harsh voice:

"'You Trojans shall be punished for troubling us. You shall be tossed about on the ocean until you reach Italy, and you shall not build a city for yourselves until you are so hungry that you will be willing to eat the trenchers containing the food.'

"This was what people called a prophecy, and, as Æneas and his men believed in such things, it made them feel far from cheerful.

"He sailed away, however, and came at length to another place, where he found old friends. His cousin, Helenus, who had also been driven away from Troy, was ruling there, and he had built a new city for himself and his comrades.

"Helenus was a prophet, as it seemed, and he told Æneas that after he reached Italy he would find an old white sow with thirty little pigs around her. He must build a city for himself wherever he should find her.

"Æneas had many other adventures after leaving Helenus. Among other things, he met a horrible giant who had lost the sight of his one eye, but was still terrible. After this, the old father of Æneas died, and the son's sad loss was followed by a fearful storm in which the men nearly gave up hope of seeing land again. The ships were driven far to the south.

"After the wind had died down and the waves had grown calmer, the homeless wanderers came to a quiet bay. They landed and found a lovely queen who treated Æneas so kindly that he almost forgot the city he had planned to build in Italy. But after awhile the god Mercury appeared to him and reminded him of his duty.

"He set sail once more, leaving the beautiful queen so unhappy that she killed herself with a sword her visitor had left behind. There were many other adventures, but, at last, Æneas came to the shores of Italy, where he rested in a grove. He and his followers sat around on the grass to eat. They used large, round cakes for plates on which to place the meat. After it was gone, they began to eat the cakes. Then Æneas's little son said:

"'We are eating our trenchers.'

"When he heard these words Æneas thought of the harpy's prophecy. He knew at once that his home was to be here."

"Was it where Rome stands now?" asked Lucy.

"No, the place was called Cumæ. There is another story about the building of Rome which you may like to hear some other evening. Let us play games for awhile, and then, little ones, for bed and pleasant dreams."

Every one joined in a game of blind man's buff. Tessa had never played it before and she enjoyed it very much. Then she showed them how to play one of the games she had learned from the children of her own village.

CHAPTER IV

CHRISTMAS

"Mother," said Lucy, one day late in December, "Tessa says she never gets presents on Christmas Day. Those always come on Twelfth Night in Italy. What a queer idea! But she says there are processions in the churches, and all sorts of beautiful sights. Will father take us to Saint Peter's then, do you think?"

Lucy had only been in Italy six months and there were many interesting things she had not seen yet.

"Certainly," answered her mother. "Your father and I have been thinking of asking both Tessa and Beppo to spend Christmas week with us. You will enjoy the sights all the more if you have them with you. What do you think?"

Lucy was so pleased she jumped up and down in delight.

"You good, kind mother," she cried. "Of course, it will be lovely."

That very night Tessa's father was asked if he would be willing his children should visit the artist's family. The good man's face beamed with pride. Oh, yes, he was only too glad they should have such an honour and pleasure. He knew his wife would also rejoice.

There was to be no trouble about the clothes. A new suit was already waiting for Beppo, while the artist's wife had herself made two pretty dresses for Tessa.

"You are too kind," cried the peasant. His hands seemed to say this as well as his voice. What would an Italian do without hands to help him in talking? Sometimes they seem to express more than his voice.

In this way it came to pass that Tessa and Beppo bade good-bye to the little village on the hillside for nearly two weeks. They must be home at Twelfth Night, however, to bring presents to mother and Francesca. Oh, yes, there was no doubt of that.

But in the meantime it was to be a holiday. The children were not to sit as models for one minute. The artist would let his brushes rest and go about the city with his family and their young visitors.

Christmas Eve came at last, although the hours before it arrived seemed like weeks to the excited children.

A carriage drove up to the palace door. They were all to drive to a beautiful church called Santa Maria Maggiore, where the Pope himself would be that night.

"Why is he such a great man, and why do the people give him such reverence?" asked Arthur.

Tessa heard the question. Her pretty face flushed. "Why, Arthur, he is the head of our church, the Catholic Church," she answered, quickly. "It is not only here in Italy, but all over the world that we Catholics honour him!"

The little girl was ignorant about many things in her own city that Lucy and Arthur could explain to her, but she had been taught from birth to think of the Pope as the most holy person in the world.

But why was the Pope to be present in the church Christmas Eve? The children had already been told that on this occasion a piece of the cradle in which Jesus had lain was to be carried through the church. At least, Tessa and her brother and all good Catholics believed it to be a part of his cradle. They thought that by some miracle it had been saved for nineteen hundred years, and was now cared for sacredly in their loved city. Any one who wished, might look upon it at Christmas time.

The peasant children believed it could do great wonders. Why, if they were sick, and even dying, it might save their lives if they were allowed to touch it.

Tessa whispered this to Lucy as they mixed with the people entering the church. They passed along between two rows of beautiful marble columns. They were obliged to move slowly because the crowd was so great. But Lucy's father soon led them to the doorway of a small chapel, where they could stand while the procession passed up to the altar. The sacred cradle was carried first, and behind it followed the Pope with the cardinals and other high officers of the church.

The Pope was carried in a chair above the heads of the people and, as he passed along, he held out his hands to bless them as they knelt before him.

Tessa and Beppo had never looked upon him before. Indeed, they were scarcely able to see him or any other part of the procession now, because of the great crowd. But they knew he was there and that they were near him. This was enough to satisfy their pious little hearts. Lucy and Arthur were most pleased to think that these Italian friends were made so happy.

"Is that all, father?" Lucy whispered. "It is hot and close here. Can't we go home now and have our Christmas tree?"

Her father said that he was quite willing to go, for he saw that his wife was as tired as his little daughter.

An hour afterward they were in the great drawing-room at home. Many candles gave a soft and pleasant light to the room; for gas and electricity were not used in many Roman houses.

A curtain was drawn, and there stood a beautiful Christmas tree, – not of pine or balsam, such as Lucy and Arthur would have in America. It was of laurel.

"Oh! Oh! Oh!" exclaimed Beppo. He had never seen anything like it before, for his people are not used to this custom of having Christmas trees. And Tessa's eyes sparkled, too, as she drew one long sigh of happiness. What beauty met her eyes! Was it indeed fairy-land, – these tiny lights shining on every twig of the tree; gilded oranges hanging from the branches; and toys, so many she was sure she could not count them.

Could it be true that this lovely wax doll was her very own? Lucy's father had said so, but she was afraid she might rub her eyes and wake, and find it all a dream.

As for Beppo, he was equally delighted to find himself the owner of a jack-knife with four blades, a fine ball with which he could teach the American children his favourite game of pallone, in which he was very skilful.

There were neither skates nor sleds. They would be of no use in Italy, the land of sunny skies, where snow is unknown except on the high mountain-tops.

The evening was a merry one, but it came to an end at last.

"To bed, to bed, children," Lucy's mother cried at length. "To-morrow there will be more sights, and you must not get sick over your good time."

Christmas morning dawned bright and clear.

The children waked early and did not seem any the worse for sitting up so late the night before. Soon after breakfast, an open carriage appeared at the door of the palace and they all rode off to visit the greatest church in the world.

"At last we are on our way to Saint Peter's," said Arthur. "Tessa, you may well be proud when you think of the people who come here from all parts of the world to see the grand buildings."

Tessa was proud. This was her Italy, her Rome, her Saint Peter's. She, a poor little peasant maiden, felt richer at this moment than the owner of a million dollars.

The party had to ride over a bridge before they could reach the church.

"Do you know the name of the river over which this bridge is built?" Arthur asked his sister.

"The Tiber, the yellow Tiber," she answered gaily. "You ought to remember, Arthur, that father read us the poem a few days ago about the guarding of the bridge. It made a shiver creep down my back when I thought of the three men holding the bridge against the army of their enemies. It stretched across this very river."

"It was hundreds of years ago," Lucy went on, turning toward Tessa, "that those brave men saved the city. They kept the enemy from entering until the bridge was cut down. The last one stood on guard until he felt the supports give way. Then he cried out to the river:

"'O Tiber, Father Tiber, to whom the Romans pray,A Roman's life, a Roman's arms take thou in charge this day.'

"An instant afterward he jumped into the rushing stream and swam with all his might back to his people and the city he had saved."

"Did he escape?" Beppo asked. "I should think his enemies would have killed him before he was able to get out of the reach of their weapons."

"They admired his bravery so much they had mercy on him and did not try to hit him after he jumped into the water. Then they turned away, for they could not reach Rome now that the bridge was destroyed."

As Lucy finished the story she could not help saying to herself, "I do hope Tessa and Beppo will be able to go to school and study about this grand country of theirs. They love it as dearly as I love America, but they do not know as much of the history of its great men as I do now."

Her father was thinking at the same time, "What a pity it is there are so many poor and ignorant people in Italy. How I wish the children of to-day could grow up and make the country what it was once."

The sun was shining so brightly by this time that the girls had to raise their parasols to shade their eyes as they looked along the crowded street. It was filled with carriages all going in the same direction as themselves. The sidewalks, too, were packed closely. There were all kinds of people; lords and ladies, priests in their shovel hats, cardinals in their elegant robes. All would soon enter the great church. Their faces looked happy and full of joy.

"Shall we not be crowded worse than we were last night?" asked Mrs. Gray. She looked a little bit worried.

"O no, you need have no fear about that," her husband replied. "Forty thousand people can easily gather in Saint Peter's and then it will not be full, by any means."

The carriage stopped in front of a long covered archway built of marble. They stepped down and, entering it, soon found themselves in the court in front of the church.

The church itself is built in the shape of an immense cross, and where the four lines of the cross meet, there is a huge dome overhead.

"I can see the dome of Saint Peter's from my home on the mountain," Tessa said to Lucy. "If I were far away in another part of the world, I am sure I should picture it in my mind whenever I thought of Rome."

CHAPTER V

SAINT PETER'S

The children now entered the great building. What a glory of colour was around them. There was a blaze of gold and purple and crimson. The windows were set with glass of all the beautiful tints of the rainbow. The floors were laid in small pieces of marble in exquisite patterns.

"Oh, Lucy, Lucy," whispered Tessa, "look at the walls and pillars! Gems such as your mother wears are shining there. And how beautifully they are carved."

Lucy's only answer was, "Look overhead, Tessa, and see the paintings. There are the figures of the apostles. They appear as large as life, although we are so far below them."

Just then her father told her to notice the pen in St. Luke's hand.

"I have been told that it is seven feet in length," he said, "yet it is so far away it seems only as long as the one you use at home, Lucy."

Soft music was now heard pealing from the organ, and they moved slowly along to the seats Mr. Gray had engaged for them.

"Look, look, Lucy!" whispered Tessa, a few minutes after. "He is coming, and we can see him to-day, I am sure."

It was the Pope, of course. Two enormous fans could be seen waving at the other end of the great building. The procession of priests and cardinals, in their purple robes, moved slowly and grandly along. The Pope was behind them in a chair carried on poles by twelve bearers. The fans were kept waving on each side of the great man.

As he passed onward between the rows of soldiers in their gorgeous uniforms, they knelt before him.

"He holds out only two fingers of his hand over the bent heads of the people. That is all there is of the blessing, I suppose," said Arthur. "But he smiles pleasantly, and has a kind face."

At last the procession reached the altar. The Pope stood up before the people, and they could see he was robed in white. He chanted the service, after which a choir of beautiful voices began to sing. The balcony where the singers stood was richly gilded.

When the service was ended, Mr. Gray told the children to wait quietly where they were.

"When most of the people have passed out," he said, "we will walk about and examine this beautiful cathedral more carefully. There is a great deal you have not seen yet."

In a few minutes the building was nearly empty, and Mr. Gray led the way from one part of it to another. He opened the door into one of the chapels at the side.

"Look within," he said. "This chapel is as large as an ordinary church. Yet there are a number just like it which lead from the main part of the cathedral. They seem tiny beside it, though."

Tessa and Beppo loved to stop at the different shrines where the figures of Jesus and his mother, Mary, were always found. They were beautifully carved and sparkled with rich jewels.

"Now let us visit the statue of St. Peter himself," said Mr. Gray. "Some say it was never meant for that good man, but is really the likeness of a heathen emperor. But nearly every one who worships here does not wish to believe that. And so many visitors have come here to give him honour that one toe of the statue is a good deal worn off."

"Why, what do you mean, father?" asked Lucy.

"Just what I said, my dear. It is thought to be quite proper to kiss the toe of the statue of St. Peter. I don't know how the fashion started, but, at any rate, I believe thousands upon thousands of people have knelt before the statue and done that very thing. You can see the marks of it for yourself."

After St. Peter had been duly examined, Mr. Gray proposed that a visit should be made to the wonderful dome.

"But there are a good many stairs to climb. Do you think, wife, that you will be able to mount them?"

"If the little girls can do it, I am sure that I can," replied Mrs. Gray, as she turned to Tessa and Lucy. It was quite easy to see by their smiles and nods that they were eager to try it.

"Then let us start at once," said her husband, beckoning to a guide to show the way.

They passed through a door in the side of the church, and entered a passage which wound round and round, yet up and still up, till they reached a balcony around the foot of the dome. The stairway by which they had come was so broad and rose so gradually that one could easily mount it on horseback.