He was only a little fellow, living, with his goats and his reed-pipe and his naked feet, the most sylvan and pastoral life in the world; but he knew the worth of money as well as the bailiff adding up figures in his fat note-book, or the innkeeper selling watered draughts to thirsty wayfarers.
Zefferino was a pretty little curly-headed boy, with a sweet voice, a sunny smile, and limbs like a child-Bacchus; he was affectionate and he was very innocent, but all the same he knew how to lie and he knew how to cheat, his round laughing eyes open and candid all the while, and his mouth smiling.
Why not? Had he not seen the wine-carriers bore the hole in the cask and suck the wine out with a straw, and sell such a drink to anybody on the road? Had he not always heard his father, bartering with the cattle-dealer, say, 'And what will there be as mancia for me?' which meant, 'How much will you let me rob my friend if I induce him to sell you this beast?'
So he himself robbed this strange maiden, of whom he was half frightened always; yet he loved her and admired her in his half-hearted way, and kept her secret
