The House by the Medlar-Tree

te of what they might appear to be from their nickname of the Ill-wills, as is but right. In fact, in the parish books they were called Toscani; but that meant nothing, because, sin

scattered all the other Malavoglia to the four winds, had passed over the house by the medlar —tree and the boat anchored under the tank without doing any great damage; and Padron ‘Ntoni, to explain the miracle, used to say, showing his closed f

told him to do it. So he took to wife La Longa when his father said to him “ Take her!” Then came La Longa, a little woman who attended to her weaving, her salting of anchovies, and her babies, as a good house-keeper should do; last, the grand-children in the order of their age ‘Ntoni, the eldest, a big fellow of twenty, who was always getting cuffs from his grandfather, and then kicks a little farther down if the cuffs had been heavy enough

or he who commands must give account.” In De-cember, 1863, ‘Ntoni, the eldest grandson, was called up for the naval conscription. Padron ‘Ntoni had recourse to the big-wigs of the village, who are those who can help us if they like. But Don Giam-maria, the vicar, replied that he deserved it, and that it was the fruit of that satanic revolution which they had made, hanging that tricolored handker-chief to the campanile. Don Franco, the druggist, on the other hand, laughed under his beard, and said it was quite time there should be a revolution, and that then they would send all those fellows of the draft and the taxes flying, and there would be no more soldiers, but everybody would go out and fight for their country if there was need of it. Then Padron ‘Ntoni begged and prayed him, for the love of God, to make the revolution quickly, before his grandson ‘Ntoni went for a soldier, as if Don Franco had it in his pocket, so that at last the druggist flew into a rage. Then Don Silvestro, t

in their hands, had no heart to speak, but turned round and went back with them to the house. La Longa rushed away to the kitchen, longing to find herself alone with the familiar saucepans; and Padron ‘Ntoni said to his son, “Go and say something to that poor child; she can bear it no longer.” The day after they all went back to the station of Aci Castello to see the train pass with the conscri

hat she stood still, with the sickle in her hand, gazing at the train as long as it was there. To La Longa it seemed that that wave of the hand had been stolen from her, and when she met Cousin Tudda’s Sara on the piazza (public square), or at the tank where they washed, she turned her back on her for a long time after. Then the train moved off, hissing and screaming so as to drown the adieus and the songs. And then the curious crowd dispersed, leaving only a few poor women an

ke ‘Ntoni in the rigging and when some rope had to be pulled taut, or turn some screw, the grandfather groaning, “ O-hi! O-o-o-o-hi!” ejaculated: “ Here we want ‘Ntoni!” or “Do you think I have a wrist like that bo

good; he always liked better to carry his two arms out a-walking of a Sun-day than to work with them for his bread.” Or,

of inferi

ats, and that on the mole there was Punch’s the-atre, and that they sold those little round cheeses, that rich people eat, for two centimes, and that one coul

it, though; he always was like that. If I hadn’t held him at the font in these arm

at the tank, and Cousin Tudda

d on purpose for Padron ‘Ntoni’s ‘Ntoni to steal him

ughing, and henceforth the envious

eat, that the mother that bore him wouldn’t have known him; and poor La Longa was never tired of gazing at the curtain and the carpet and that pillar, against which her son stood up stiff as a post, scratching with his hand the back of a beautiful arm-chair; and she thanked God and the saints who had placed her boy in the midst of such splendors. She kept the portrait on the bureau, under

the discipline, the superiors, the thin rice soup, and the tight shoes. “A letter that wasn’t worth the twenty centimes for the pos

owlock if it were only out of compassion for La Longa, who, since her boy was gone, went about like a cat that had lost her kitten. Padron ‘Ntoni went in secret, first, to Don Giam-maria, and then to Don Franco, the drugg

rich, like Padron Cipolla’s son, that he might have

boat, and sometimes they had to take La Locca’s Menico, by the day, to help. The King did this way, you see he took the boys just as they got big enough to earn their living; while they were little, and had to be fed, he left them

oing nothing, so he pretended to be very stupid, indeed. “ Eh! too much is it? Let it alone, then! But I can’t take a centime less! I can’t, on my conscience! I must answer for my soul to God! I can’t “- and shook his head till it looked in real earnest like a bell without a clapper. This conversation took place at the door of the church at Ognino, on the first Sunday in September, which was the feast of Our Lady. There was a great c

se fla

ined to her how, if the affair was successful, there would be bread for the winter and ear-rings for Mena, and Bastiano could go and come in a week from Ri-posto with La Locca’s Menico. Bastiano, mean-time, snuffed the candle and said nothing. So the affair of the lupins was arranged, and the voyage of the Provvidenza, which was the

ike one possessed to bring them to agreement, swearing that such a thing had never happened to him before; and he thrust his hands among the lupins, and held them up before God and the Madonna, calling them to witness. At last red, panting, desperate he made a wild proposition, and flung it in the face

the girls crowded like a flight of sparrows about the fountain, and the evening-star was shining brightly already just over the mast of the Provvidenza, like a lamp. Maruzza, with her baby in her arms, stood on the shore, without speaking, while he

h was lost in the sound of the sea. “ He said you may give the money to his mother, for h