Описание книги
This is a high quality book of the original classic edition. <p> This is a freshly published edition of this culturally important work, which is now, at last, again available to you. <p> Enjoy this classic work. These few paragraphs distill the contents and give you a quick look inside: <p>
Buon giorno [Footnote: Good-morning.] they would shout every morning when he stopped for them on his way to the famous church, and Maria, holding tight to one of the old mans hands, would trot along by his side, while Andrea, more independent, would run on ahead in his eagerness to thread the narrow streets catch the first glimpse of the Piazza, as St.
<p>…Paolo nodded, And I have no doubt but that the one great Dandolo rode was like those very horses; and, by the way, my lad, did you ever hear that they were part of the spoils he brought from the East in triumph and placed above our own St.
<p>…At first, Andrea walked with his mother, insisting upon carrying the basket, but after a little his arms became weary and, without expostulation, he allowed his father to take it from him, while he ran joyfully ahead, eager to catch a glimpse of the bronze horses, and dabble his fingers a few moments in the well with the bathing pigeons.
<p>…Then came a day when Paolo declared that Chico must have his first lesson in flying, and the children watched, with abated breath, as the old man took the bird from his nest and placed him on the pavement, at the same time stationing himself at a little distance and holding an enticing morsel.
<p>…That would not of itself have been so bad, for, like children learning to walk, baby pigeons must have many a disaster before the art of flying is completely mastered, but, by some strange chance, it happened that a lean tortoise-shell kitten was prowling about one of the side streets and at that moment poked her head into St.
Buon giorno [Footnote: Good-morning.] they would shout every morning when he stopped for them on his way to the famous church, and Maria, holding tight to one of the old mans hands, would trot along by his side, while Andrea, more independent, would run on ahead in his eagerness to thread the narrow streets catch the first glimpse of the Piazza, as St.
<p>…Paolo nodded, And I have no doubt but that the one great Dandolo rode was like those very horses; and, by the way, my lad, did you ever hear that they were part of the spoils he brought from the East in triumph and placed above our own St.
<p>…At first, Andrea walked with his mother, insisting upon carrying the basket, but after a little his arms became weary and, without expostulation, he allowed his father to take it from him, while he ran joyfully ahead, eager to catch a glimpse of the bronze horses, and dabble his fingers a few moments in the well with the bathing pigeons.
<p>…Then came a day when Paolo declared that Chico must have his first lesson in flying, and the children watched, with abated breath, as the old man took the bird from his nest and placed him on the pavement, at the same time stationing himself at a little distance and holding an enticing morsel.
<p>…That would not of itself have been so bad, for, like children learning to walk, baby pigeons must have many a disaster before the art of flying is completely mastered, but, by some strange chance, it happened that a lean tortoise-shell kitten was prowling about one of the side streets and at that moment poked her head into St.