Mollie and the Unwiseman Abroad Part 24

"Well I'm mighty glad it didn't catch your eye," said the Unwiseman. "I could afford to buy you a new straw hat, but I'm afraid a new eye would have busted me."

And there the trouble ended. The artist and the Unwiseman shook hands and parted friends.

"What was that he said about the Lion's Mouth?" asked the Unwiseman after the artist had gone.

"He said he'd lodge a complaint there," said Mollie. "That's the way they used to do here. Those big statues of lions out in front of the Doggies' Palace with their mouths wide open are big boxes where people can mail their complaints to the Government."

"Oh, I see," said the Unwiseman. "And when the Doggies get the complaints they attend to 'em, eh?"

"Yes," said Mollie.

"And who are the Doggies?" asked the Unwiseman. "They don't have dogs instead of pleece over here, do they? I get so mixed up with these Johns, and Bobbies, and Doggies I hardly know where I'm at."

"I don't exactly understand why," said Mollie, "but the people in Venice are ruled by Doggies."

"They're a queer lot from Buckingham Palace, London, down to this old tow-path," said the Unwiseman, "and if I ever get home alive there's no more abroad for your Uncle Me."

On the following day, Mollie's parents having seen all of Venice that their limited time permitted, prepared to start for Genoa, whence the steamer back to New York was to sail. Everything was ready, but the Unwiseman was nowhere to be found. The hotel was searched from top to bottom and not a sign of him. Giuseppe Zocco denied all knowledge of him, and the carpet-bag gave no evidence that he had been in it the night before as was his custom. Train-time was approaching and Mollie was distracted. Even Whistlebinkie whistled under his breath for fear that something had happened to the old gentleman.

"I hope he hasn't fallen overboard!" moaned Mollie, gazing anxiously into the watery depths of the ca.n.a.l.

"Here he comes!" cried Whistlebinkie, jubilantly, and sure enough down the ca.n.a.l seated on a small raft and paddling his way cautiously along with his hands came the Unwiseman, singing the popular Italian ballad "Margherita" at the top of his lungs.

"Gander ahoy!" he cried, as he neared the hotel steps. "Sheer off there, Captain, and let me into Port."

The gondolier made room for him and the Unwiseman alighted.

"Where _have_ you been?" asked Mollie, throwing her arms about his neck.

"Up the ca.n.a.l a little way," he answered unconcernedly. "I wanted to mail a letter to the Doggie in the Lion's Mouth."

"What about?" asked Mollie.

"Watertown, otherwise Venice," said the Unwiseman. "I had some suggestions for its improvement and I didn't want to go way without making them. There's a copy of my letter if you want to see it," he added, handing Mollie a piece of paper upon which he had written as follows:

29 Grand Ca.n.a.l St., Venice, It.

ANCIENT & HONORABLE BOW-WOWS:

I have enjoyed my visit to your beautiful but wet old town very much and would respectfully advise you that there are several things you can do to keep it unspiled. These are as follows to wit viz:

I. Bale it out once in a while and see that the barrel hoops in your Grand Ca.n.a.l are sifted out of it. They're a mighty poor stubstishoot for shad.

II. Get a few trained whales in commission so that when a feller wants to go driving he won't have to go paddling.

III. Stock your streets with trout, or flounders, or perch or even sardines in order that us Americans who feel like fis.h.i.+ng won't have to be satisfied with a poor quality of straw hat.

IV. During the fis.h.i.+ng season compel artists returning from their work to wear beaver hats or something else that a fish-hook baited with macaroni won't catch into thus making a lot of trouble.

V. Get together on your language. I speak the very best variety of banana-stand Italian and twenty-three out of twenty-four people to which I have made remarks in it have not been able to grasp my meaning.

VI. Pigeons are very nice to have but they grow monotonous. Would suggest a half dozen first cla.s.s American hens as an ornament to your piazza.

VII. Stop calling yourself Doggies. It makes people laugh.

With kind regards to the various Mrs. Ds, believe me to be with mucho da respecto,

Yoursa da trool, Da Unadawisamann.

P.S. If you ever go sailing abroad in your old town point her nose towards my country. We'll all be glad to see you over there and can supply you with all the water you need.

Y da T, MISTER ME.

It was with these recommendations to the Doges that the Unwiseman left Venice. Whether they were ever received or not I have never heard, but if they were I am quite sure they made the "Doggies" yelp with delight.

XIII.

GENOA, GIBRALTAR, AND COLUMBUS

"Whatta da namea dissa cit?" asked the Unwiseman in his best Italian as the party arrived at Genoa, whence they were to set sail for home the next day.

"This is Genoa," said Mollie.

"What's it good for?" demanded the old gentleman, gazing around him in a highly critical fas.h.i.+on.

"It's where Christopher Columbus was born," said Mollie. "Didn't you know that?"

"You don't mean the gentleman who discovered the United States, do you?"

asked the Unwiseman, his face brightening with interest.

"The very same," said Mollie. "He was born right here in this town."

"Humph!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the Unwiseman. "Queer place for a fellow like that to be born in. You'd think a man who was going to discover America would have been born a little nearer the United States than this. Up in Canada for instance, or down around Cuba, so's he wouldn't have so far to travel."

"Canada and Cuba weren't discovered either at that time," explained Mollie, smiling broadly at the Unwiseman's ignorance.

"Really?" said the Unwiseman. "Well that accounts for it. I always wondered why the United States wasn't discovered by somebody nearer home, like a Canadian or a Cuban, or some fellow down around where the Panama hats come from, but of course if there wasn't any Canadians or Cubans or Panama hatters around to do it, it's as clear as pie." The old gentleman paused a moment, and then he went on: "So this is the place that would have been our native land if Columbus hadn't gone to sea, is it? I think I'll take home a bottle of it to keep on the mantel-piece alongside of my bottle of United States and label 'em' My Native Land, Before and After.'"

"That's a very good idea," said Mollie. "Then you'll have a complete set."

"I wonder," said the Unwiseman, rubbing his forehead reflectively, "I wonder if he's alive yet."

"What, Christopher Columbus?" laughed Mollie.