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La te impromete, e po la te denega; No te fidar de l' albaro che piega." Beppo, Salemina, and I were talking together one morning, just a casual meeting in the street, when Peppina passed us. She had a market-basket in each hand, and was in her gayest attire, a fresh crimson rose between her teeth being the last and most fetching touch to her toilet.
So, though the house was very still, the little man drew his long knife and read the motto scratched on the blade before he climbed the stairs. "Non ti fidar a me se il cor ti manca."
Beppo sent a stinging reproof in verse to Peppina by the new gardener, and the Little Genius read it to us, to show the poetic instinct of the discarded lover, and how well he had selected his rebuke from the store of popular verses known to gondoliers and fishermen of Venice: "No te fidar de l' albaro che piega, Ne de la dona quando la te giura.
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