Part 23 (1/2)
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 s.h.i.+ed 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.