It was about ten minutes' walk to the city proper. The young man led Rico directly to the landlady and explained his errand. In the meantime Rico noticed that the living room was filled with men who were smoking and talking. He heard the landlady dismiss the boy with, "Very well, I will do as you say." She looked Rico over from head to foot as she asked him where he came from. He answered in German that he had come down the Maloja and could understand what the people said, although he could not speak in the same way. The landlord, who understood German, told Rico that he had been up to the mountains himself. "We will talk about it later," he said, "if you will play for the guests a few moments first." They had called for music as soon as they saw the violin. Rico was very tired, but he obediently played and sang, beginning as usual with Stineli's song. None of the guests understood German, and they talked and laughed during the song. As soon as he had finished, some one called for a lively tune, and Rico tried to think of something they might like. He had never heard the music of the dance halls, but he finally thought of "Una sera In Peschiera." The men joined Rico in the singing, much to his surprise, and they made the strongest chorus he had ever heard. It was fine to lead so many voices, and he played through the whole number of verses. When the song was ended, there was such a jubilee that Rico could not imagine what it meant. They surrounded him, shaking his hands and patting his shoulders, and then asked him to drink with them. Rico was bewildered, for he could not understand their surprise that he, a stranger, should know their song,--the song that no one outside their locality would care to learn. Moreover, he had played it with feeling, like a loyal Peschieran; hence this hilarious gratitude and brotherly welcome. Rico's supper, consisting of boiled rice with chicken, was brought in and put on a corner table, and the landlady rescued him from his embarrassment by explaining that the child must eat and rest. She led him to the table, remaining to serve him. Rico was indeed hungry. It seemed as if a long time had elapsed since he had taken breakfast with his friend in the early morning, and he had tasted nothing since. He had scarcely finished eating when he found it almost impossible to keep awake. He had told them, in response to questions, that he had no home and that he was going nowhere. "That is too bad," said the husband, kindly. "Don't worry about anything now, for you must go to bed and get a good sleep. Perhaps Mrs. Menotti, the lady that sent you here, will give you some work if you go to see her to-morrow morning. I have no doubt of her helping you, since you have no home." He did not notice that his wife was trying to keep him from saying this.