does n't the weather make you sleepy too, Nini? . . . Come, let's take a nap; go by-bye, baby, go by-bye."
Nini sleeps. Her head rests upon a cushion, her little rag and horse-hair body is wrapped in a woollen coverlet, her lids are closed; for Nini raises or lowers her lids according to the position of her body.
Signor Odoardo looks at the clock and then glances out of the window. It is two o'clock and the snow is still falling.
Doretta is struck by another idea.
"Daddy, see if I know my La Fontaine fable: Le corbeau et le renard."
"Very well, let's hear it," Signor Odoardo assents, taking the open book from the little girl's hands.
Doretta begins:
"Maître corbeau, sur un arbre perché,
Tenait en son bcc unfromage;
Maître . . . maître . . . maître . . ."
"Go on."
"Maître . . ."
"Maître renard."
"Oh, yes, now I remember:
Maître renard, par V odeur alléché,
Lui tint àa peu près ce langage:
Hé! bonjour . . ."
At this point Doretta, seeing that her father is
