CLEMENTINA had been doing her shopping in the village and now the two
children and I were walking home with her. It was near the time of
sunset, and the Apennines, blue-purple as the sun gradually dropped
behind them, unrolled themselves before us, chain behind chain,
as we advanced along the road with the valley on the left and the
chestnut-covered hill on the right.
“A story, _nonna mia_,” begged I, and “A story,” echoed the children:
“tell us the story about Teresina.” So Clementina began:—
* * * * *
Once there was a woman who had two daughters: at least, one was a
daughter, and the other a step-daughter. Now the daughter, named Luisa,
was ugly and wicked: but the step-daughter, Teresina, was so good and
beautiful that everybody loved her. This made Luisa very jealous,
and she began to think what she might do to get rid of Teresina. One
evening she said to her mother:—
“Mother, send Teresina into the woodhouse to-night, so that the bear
may come and eat her while she’s alone in the forest.”