ANTONIS was very mischievous and very naughty, and he kept getting into trouble every now and then. Not a day went by without him receiving two or three scoldings, sometimes from his aunt, sometimes from the cook, sometimes from the English teacher, and sometimes from the cashier, and every so often his uncle had to get involved. When his uncle arrived home and heard about Antonis's latest mischief, his kind face would darken as much as he could, his white eyebrows would furrow, and shaking his gray head, he would sternly say: — Antonis, I hear you're causing trouble again! I'm afraid we won't get along well! These were serious matters. Alexandra, the older sister, listened and felt ashamed for her brother. Pouloudia, the younger sister, listened and felt her heart pounding. And little Alexandros, sitting on the floor with his finger in his mouth, also listened and decided to himself that he didn't want to grow up to be a naughty boy like Antonis.

And yet, he wished he could do all the things Antonis did! Because Antonis did many difficult things. He did three somersaults in a row — and he said he would do four if the room were bigger and if the wall didn't hit his legs; he climbed the garden fence; he rode on the handrail of the staircase and slid down to the bottom; he spun around his house’s yard three times on one foot without touching the wall; every morning, in the sea, he dunked his head in the water, stayed there with his mouth closed and his eyes open, and he never choked. And Antonis did many more things. He always had pockets full of treasures. What didn’t he find inside! Nails, marbles, pebbles, ropes, sometimes a piece of chewed mastic, and above all, the broken glass triangle that had fallen from the church’s chandelier, which reflected beautiful colors when placed in the sun.