“Thou, Beppo, art a bird of great character, _un gran carattere_! Really, thou art wonderful! Zirlo, my fine fellow” (to the second), “what a bird art thou! Who like thee can climb the _scaletta_ (little ladder)! No one, in truth, and they are base _ladroni_ that deny thy merits; eh Pippa?” (to the third). “Dost thou hear? _Bellissima!_ One, two, three, come then, my Pippa, kiss me.” She extended a finger. Pippa transferred herself to it from the perch, and climbing the arm to her face, gave a fluttering little salute first to one cheek, then to the other. After which, hopping back to the finger, she made a droll little bow, and returned to the perch. Then it was Zirlo’s turn; and this enterprising bird not only climbed the _scaletta_, but finding a gun at the top, shouldered it, pulled the trigger with an infinitesimal claw, and--bang!--who should tumble from his perch but poor Beppo, and lie perfectly rigid on the ground. Zirlo’s fit of anger was quenched at this piteous sight; carefully he examined the stiff figure and at last, picking up an inch-square pocket-handkerchief with one foot, applied it to his eyes, and wept bitterly. Then up jumped Beppo, who had only been feigning, and the two touched bills in token of reconciliation, and waltzed--wing in wing--fraternally off the stage. It was a pretty scene--the sunshine, the people, the tiny performers below, and the mighty column towering high above them--the grandeur of old Rome looking down upon the present thus lightly amusing itself. _XI._ _A MENAGERIE IN STONE._ XI. A MENAGERIE IN STONE. In Rome there is always something to stir the fancy and quicken the pulse--always something to recall to the Present the magnificent Past. Now it is a column or statue, now a ruined palace, and now the vast fabric of an amphitheater. But the ruins are weighted with such tragic memories of by-gone Cæsars--their wars, their triumphs, their funeral pomp--as to be almost oppressively solemn. Let us then leave them for once, and go where the Past will suggest itself in some simpler, happier fashion--let us visit a Roman “Zoo.” No day could be better for the purpose than this sunny one; for the Zoo has its home in the Vatican, and we need all the sunshine we can get to counteract its chill. Besides, no matter with how definite a purpose we set out, once within that marble world we are sure to linger--so many are the objects that claim the eye. It is only after a lingering stroll that we at last reach the _Sala degli Animali_, or Hall of the Animals. An odd world it is, suggesting the pictures of Paradise before the dispersion of species; a world that includes creatures wild and tame, familiar and suppositious--birds, harpies, dragons, reptiles, quadrupeds, Minotaur, insects and fish. Three patrons of the chase preside, Diana and Hercules at one end of the hall, the imperial hunter Commodus at the other. [Illustration: SCULPTURE OF GREYHOUNDS IN THE VATICAN.]