American Fairy Tales | Page 5

chest. He had the same complexion as his fellows, but
was short and fat.
All three were dressed in a curious manner. They wore short jackets of
red velvet braided with gold, and knee breeches of sky-blue satin with
silver buttons. Over their stockings were laced wide ribbons of red and
yellow and blue, while their hats had broad brims with high, peaked
crowns, from which fluttered yards of bright-colored ribbons.
They had big gold rings in their ears and rows of knives and pistols in
their belts. Their eyes were black and glittering and they wore long,
fierce mustaches, curling at the ends like a pig's tail.
"My! but you were heavy," exclaimed the fat one, when he had pulled
down his velvet jacket and brushed the dust from his sky-blue breeches.
"And you squeezed me all out of shape."
"It was unavoidable, Lugui," responded the thin man, lightly; "the lid of
the chest pressed me down upon you. Yet I tender you my regrets."
"As for me," said the middle-sized man, carelessly rolling a cigarette
and lighting it, "you must acknowledge I have been your nearest friend
for years; so do not be disagreeable."
"You mustn't smoke in the attic," said Martha, recovering herself at
sight of the cigarette. "You might set the house on fire."
The middle-sized man, who had not noticed her before, at this speech
turned to the girl and bowed.
"Since a lady requests it," said he, "I shall abandon my cigarette," and
he threw it on the floor and extinguished it with his foot.
"Who are you?" asked Martha, who until now had been too astonished
to be frightened.
"Permit us to introduce ourselves," said the thin man, flourishing his

hat gracefully. "This is Lugui," the fat man nodded; "and this is Beni,"
the middle-sized man bowed; "and I am Victor. We are three
bandits--Italian bandits."
"Bandits!" cried Martha, with a look of horror.
"Exactly. Perhaps in all the world there are not three other bandits so
terrible and fierce as ourselves," said Victor, proudly.
"'Tis so," said the fat man, nodding gravely.
"But it's wicked!" exclaimed Martha.
"Yes, indeed," replied Victor. "We are extremely and tremendously
wicked. Perhaps in all the world you could not find three men more
wicked than those who now stand before you."
"'Tis so," said the fat man, approvingly.
"But you shouldn't be so wicked," said the girl; "it's--it's--naughty!"
Victor cast down his eyes and blushed.
"Naughty!" gasped Beni, with a horrified look.
"'Tis a hard word," said Luigi, sadly, and buried his face in his hands.
"I little thought," murmured Victor, in a voice broken by emotion,
"ever to be so reviled--and by a lady! Yet, perhaps you spoke
thoughtlessly. You must consider, miss, that our wickedness has an
excuse. For how are we to be bandits, let me ask, unless we are
wicked?"
Martha was puzzled and shook her head, thoughtfully. Then she
remembered something.
"You can't remain bandits any longer," said she, "because you are now
in America."

"America!" cried the three, together.
"Certainly. You are on Prairie avenue, in Chicago. Uncle Walter sent
you here from Italy in this chest."
The bandits seemed greatly bewildered by this announcement. Lugui
sat down on an old chair with a broken rocker and wiped his forehead
with a yellow silk handkerchief. Beni and Victor fell back upon the
chest and looked at her with pale faces and staring eyes.
When he had somewhat recovered himself Victor spoke.
"Your Uncle Walter has greatly wronged us," he said, reproachfully.
"He has taken us from our beloved Italy, where bandits are highly
respected, and brought us to a strange country where we shall not know
whom to rob or how much to ask for a ransom."
"'Tis so!" said the fat man, slapping his leg sharply.
"And we had won such fine reputations in Italy!" said Beni, regretfully.
"Perhaps Uncle Walter wanted to reform you," suggested Martha.
"Are there, then, no bandits in Chicago?" asked Victor.
"Well," replied the girl, blushing in her turn, "we do not call them
bandits."
"Then what shall we do for a living?" inquired Beni, despairingly.
"A great deal can be done in a big American city," said the child. "My
father is a lawyer" (the bandits shuddered), "and my mother's cousin is
a police inspector."
"Ah," said Victor, "that is a good employment. The police need to be
inspected, especially in Italy."
"Everywhere!" added Beni.

"Then you could do other things," continued Martha, encouragingly.
"You could be motor men on trolley cars, or clerks in a department
store. Some people even become aldermen to earn a living."
The bandits shook their heads sadly.
"We are not fitted for such work," said Victor. "Our business is to rob."
Martha tried to think.
"It is rather hard to