The House by the Medlar-Tree

riglione as if all the bulls of the Fair of Saint Alfio had been there, and the day opened as black as the soul of Judas. In short, an ugly Septemb

es by hissing and howling whenever there passed by some lonely sail far out at sea, tossed amid mist and foam, dancing up and down as if ch

ng the rain, sniffing the air with their heads up. On the shore there was only Pa-dron ‘Ntoni, looking out for that load of lupins and his son Bastianazzo and the Provvidenza, all out at sea there; and there was La Locca’s son too, who had nothing to lose, only his

ch,” said he, shrugging his shoulders; “ and then w

big boots and his pistols, as if he were going to look for smugglers in this sort of weather; and Mastro Mariano Cinghialenta. That great big elephant of a man, Mastro Cola Zuppiddu, went about giving people thumps in fun, heavy eno

little porch, waited with out-stretched hand unt

t make a good sum on such a day as this,” said

tro Cirino may ring the bell as much as he likes, today the Malavoglia won’t go to chu

e had finished, stood with hand on hip in the door-way, with his curly hair shining like silk; and the druggist stood at his shop door, under that big ugly hat of his that looked as if he had an umbrella on his head, preten

saying, “Padron ‘Ntoni is a Protest

ll box your ears right here where we are,” shouted La Zuppidd

omers behind her. Uncle San-toro, poor old fellow, was blind, and didn’t go to the mass, but he didn’t lose his time at the

tuzza, as she crossed herself with the ho

village, whispering to whoever would listen to her: “ There’s Maruzza la Longa doesn’t come to church, and yet her husband is out at sea in this horrid weather! Th

ers,” said Santuzza; “that i

ed his prayers with a nasal twang which would have touched the heart of Satan himself. Between one Ave Maria and another he talked

s shoulders, “no one is content with his own estat

Zuppiddu, “that this will be

t, “ I shouldn’t care to be i

sand, one enjoys watching the simmering pot, with the baby between one’s knees, and listening to the housewife trotting to and fro behind one’s back. The lazy ones preferred going to the tavern to enjoy the S

tianazzo just now,” said Rocco Spa

his hand in his pocket, and permitte

od for being in safety from the storm; there

n they all stood looking out at the se

and the apothecary asked him if he wanted a tonic, and then he said, “ Fine providenc

ut there with his hands i

o get Padron ‘Ntoni to swear before witnesse

d sick, but said nothing. The little girl cried, and these poor things, forgot-ten up there on the rocks, seemed like souls in Purgatory. The little one’s cries made the moth-e

a, asking about her husband, and staying a few minutes to keep her company, pipe in mouth, or talking softly among themselves. The poor lit-tle woman, frightened by these unusual attentions, looked at them with sad, scared eyes, and held her baby tight in her arms, as if they had tried to steal it from her. At last the hardest, or the most compassionate of them, took her by the arm and

h: “ that poor Bastianazzo always gave me something whe

w she was a widow, went on crying: “ O Bles

en they saw her coming, Mammy Goose-foot and her cousin Anna came towards her silent-ly, with folded hands. T

em-selves in the street. “And the boat