By Jiminy, that would be fun, wouldn"t it? Let"s see if we can"t hire a four whale coach, Mollie, and go driving about the city, or better yet, if they"ve got them well broken, get a school of porpoises. We might put on our bathing suits and go horseback riding on "em. I don"t take much to the trained duck idea, ducks are so flighty and if they shied at anything they might go flying up in the air and dump us backwards out of our cab into the water."
"We"re going to take a gondola ride this morning," said Mollie. "Just you wait and see, Mr. Me."
[Ill.u.s.tration: THEY ALL BOARDED A GONDOLA]
So the Unwiseman waited and an hour later he and Mollie and Whistlebinkie boarded a gondola in charge of a very handsome and smiling gondolier who said his name was Giuseppe Zocco.
"Soako is a good name for a cab-driver in this town," said the Unwiseman, after he had inspected the gondola and ascertained that it was seaworthy. "I guess I"ll talk to him."
"You-do-know-Eye-talian," laughed Whistlebinkie.
"It"s one of the languages I _do_ know," returned the Unwiseman. "I buy all my bananas and my peanuts from an Eye-talian at home and for two or three years I have been able to talk to him very easily."
He turned to the gondolier.
"Gooda da morn, Soako," he observed very politely. "You havea da prett-da-boat."
"Si, Signor," returned the smiling gondolier, who was not wholly unfamiliar with English.
"See what?" asked the Unwiseman puzzled, but looking about carefully to see what there was to be seen.
"He says we"re at sea," laughed Whistlebinkie.
"Oh--well--that"s it, eh?" said the Unwiseman. "I thought he only spoke Eye-talian." And then he addressed the gondolier again. "Da weather"s mighta da fine, huh? Not a da rain or da heava da wind, eh? Hopa da babe is vera da well da morn."
"Si, Signor," said Giuseppe.
"Da Venn greata da place. Too mucha da watt for me. Lika da dry land moocha da bett, Giuseppe. Ever sella da banann?" continued the Unwiseman.
"Non, Signor," replied Giuseppe. "No sella da banann."
"Bully da bizz," said the Unwiseman. "Maka da munn hand over da fist.
You grinda da org?"
"Huh?" grinned Giuseppe.
"He doesn"t understand," said Mollie giggling.
"I asked him if he ever ground a hand-organ," said the Unwiseman.
"Perfectly simple question. I aska da questch, Giuseppe, if you ever grinda da org. You know what I mean. Da musica-box, wid da monk for climba da house for catcha da nick."
"What"s "catcha da nick"?" whispered Whistlebinkie.
"To catch the nickels, stoopid," said the Unwiseman; "don"t interrupt.
No hava da monk, Giuseppe?" he asked.
"Non, Signor," said the gondolier. "No hava da monk."
"Too bad," observed the Unwiseman. "Hand-org not moocha da good without da monk. Da monk maka da laugh and catcha da mun by da cupful. If you ever come to America, Giuseppe, no forgetta da monk with a redda da cap."
With which admonition the Unwiseman turned his attention to other things.
"Is that really Eye-talian?" asked Whistlebinkie.
"Of course it is," said the Unwiseman. "It"s the easiest language in the world to pick up and only requires a little practice to make you speak it as if it were your own tongue. I was never conscious that I was learning it in my morning talks with old Gorgorini, the banana man at home. This would be a great place for automobiles, wouldn"t it, Mollie?"
he laughed in conclusion.
"I don"t guesso," said Whistlebinkie.
The gondolier now guided the graceful craft to a flight of marble steps up which Mollie and her friends mounted to the Piazza San Marco.
"This is great," said the Unwiseman as he gazed about him and took in its splendors. "It"s a wonder to me that they don"t have a lot of places like this on the way over from New York to Liverpool. Crossing the ocean would be some fun if you could step off every hour or two and stretch your legs on something solid, and buy a few tons of tumblers, and feed pigeons. Fact is I think that"s the best cure in the world for sea-sickness. If you could run up to a little piazza like this three times a day where there"s a nice restaurant waiting for you and no motion to spoil your appet.i.te I wouldn"t mind being a sailor for the rest of my life."
The travellers pa.s.sed through the glorious church of San Marco, inspected the Doge"s Palace and then returned to the gondola, upon which they sailed back to their hotel.
"Moocha da thanks, Giuseppe," said the Unwiseman, as he alighted.
"Here"s a Yankee da quart for you. Save it up and when you come to America as all the Eye-talians seem to be doing these days, it will help start you in business."
And handing the gondolier a quarter the Unwiseman disappeared into the hotel. The next day he entered Mollie"s room and asked permission to sit out on her balcony.
"I think I"ll try a little fishing this afternoon," he said. "It isn"t a bad idea having a hotel right on the water front this way after all. You can sit out on your balcony and drop your line out into the water and just haul them in by the dozen."
But alas for the old gentleman"s expectations, he caught never a fish.
Whether it was the fault of the bait or not I don"t know, but the only things he succeeded in catching were an old barrel-hoop that went floating along the ca.n.a.l from the Fruit Market up the way, and, sad to relate, the straw hat of an American artist on his way home in his gondola from a day"s painting out near the Lido. The latter incident caused a great deal of trouble and it took all the persuasion that Mollie"s father was capable of to keep the artist from having the Unwiseman arrested. It seems that the artist was very much put out anyhow because, mix his colors as he would, he could not get that peculiarly beautiful blue of the Venetian skies, and the lovely iridescent hues of the Venetian air were too delicate for such a brush as his, and to have his straw hat unceremoniously s.n.a.t.c.hed off his head by an old gentleman two flights up with an ordinary fish hook baited with macaroni in addition to his other troubles was too much for his temper, not a good one at best.
"I am perfectly willing to say that I am sorry," protested the Unwiseman when he was hauled before the angry artist. "I naturally would be sorry. When a man goes fishing for shad and lands nothing but a last year"s straw hat, why wouldn"t he be sorry?"
"That"s a mighty poor apology!" retorted the artist, putting the straw hat on his head.
"Well I"m a poor man," said the Unwiseman. "My expenses have been very heavy of late. What with buying an air-gun to shoot Alps with, and giving a quarter to the Ganderman to help him buy a monkey, I"m reduced from nine-fifty to a trifle under seven dollars."
"You had no business fishing from that balcony!" said the artist angrily.
"I haven"t any business anywhere, I"ve retired," said the Unwiseman.
"And I can tell you one thing certain," he added, "if I was going back into business I wouldn"t take up fishing for straw hats and barrel-hoops in Venice. There"s nothing but to trouble in it."
"I shall lodge a complaint against you in the Lion"s Mouth," said the artist, with a slight twinkle in his eye, his good humor returning in the presence of the Unwiseman.
"And I shall fall back on my rights as an American citizen to fish whenever I please from my own balcony with my own bait without interruption from foreign straw hats," said the Unwiseman with dignity.
"What?" cried the artist. "You an American?"
"Certainly," said the Unwiseman. "You didn"t take me for an Eye-talian, did you?"
"So am I," returned the artist holding out his hand. "If you"d only told me that in the beginning I never should have complained."
"Don"t mention it," said the Unwiseman graciously. "I was afraid you were an Englishman, and then there"d been a war sure, because I"ll never give in to an Englishman. If your hat is seriously damaged I"ll give you my tarpaulin, seeing that you are an American like myself."
"Not at all," said the artist. "The hat isn"t hurt at all and I"m very glad to have met you. If your hook had only caught my eye on my way up the ca.n.a.l I should have turned aside so as not to interfere."