Wearily he went round the table, placing the plates and spoons. I counted twenty plates. So Garofoli had twenty boys. As I only saw twelve beds, they evidently slept, some of them, two in a bed. What beds! what sheets! the coverlets must have been brought from the stables when they were too old and not warm enough for the horses!
“Don’t you come here,” said the boy, “Try to get somewhere else.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know. No matter where, you’d be better than here.”
The door opened and a child came into the room. He carried a violin under his arm and a big piece of wood in his hand.
“Give me that bit of wood,” said Mattia, going up to the child.
But the little fellow held the piece of wood behind his back.
“No,” he said.
“Give it me for the fire; the soup’ll be better.”
“Do you think I brought it for the soup? I’ve only made thirty-six sous to-day and I thought this bit of wood might save me a beating. It’s to make up for the four sous I’m short.”