“_Tu hai un cane_, thou hast a dog.” _“Egli ha un cane, _he has a dog.” _“Noi abbiamo un cane_, we have a dog.” “_Voi avete un cane_, you have a dog.” “_Eglino hanno un cane,_ they have a dog.” No comment followed. They returned to camp, and I reflected a while. The commander said: “I fear you are disappointed.” “Yes,” I said; “they are too monotonous, too singsong, to dead-and-alive; they have no expression, no elocution. It isn't natural; it could never happen in real life. A person who had just acquired a dog is either blame' glad or blame' sorry. He is not on the fence. I never saw a case. What the nation do you suppose is the matter with these people?” He thought maybe the trouble was with the dog. He said: “These are _contadini_, you know, and they have a prejudice against dogs--that is, against marimane. Marimana dogs stand guard over people's vines and olives, you know, and are very savage, and thereby a grief and an inconvenience to persons who want other people's things at night. In my judgment they have taken this dog for a marimana, and have soured on him.” I saw that the dog was a mistake, and not functionable: we must try something else; something, if possible, that could evoke sentiment, interest, feeling. “What is cat, in Italian?” I asked. “Gatto.” “Is it a gentleman cat, or a lady?” “Gentleman cat.” “How are these people as regards that animal?” “We-ll, they--they--” “You hesitate: that is enough. How are they about chickens?” He tilted his eyes toward heaven in mute ecstasy. I understood. “What is chicken, in Italian?” I asked. “Pollo, _Podere._” (Podere is Italian for master. It is a title of courtesy, and conveys reverence and admiration.) “Pollo is one chicken by itself; when there are enough present to constitute a plural, it is _polli._” “Very well, polli will do. Which squad is detailed for duty next?” “The Past Definite.” “Send out and order it to the front--with chickens. And let them understand that we don't want any more of this cold indifference.” He gave the order to an aide, adding, with a haunting tenderness in his tone and a watering mouth in his aspect: “Convey to them the conception that these are unprotected chickens.” He turned to me, saluting with his hand to his temple, and explained, “It will inflame their interest in the poultry, sire.” A few minutes elapsed. Then the squad marched in and formed up, their faces glowing with enthusiasm, and the file-leader shouted: “_Ebbi polli_, I had chickens!” “Good!” I said. “Go on, the next.” “_Avest polli_, thou hadst chickens!” “Fine! Next!” “_Ebbe polli_, he had chickens!” “Moltimoltissimo! Go on, the next!” “_Avemmo polli,_ we had chickens!” “Basta-basta aspettatto avanti--last man--_charge_!” “_Ebbero polli_, they had chickens!” Then they formed in echelon, by columns of fours, refused the left, and retired in great style on the double-quick. I was enchanted, and said: