so, because she brings certain goodies called, if I mistake not,
frittoli); the gardener's wife; Angelo, the gondolier; Peppina, the
waiting-maid; and the men that had just brought the sausages and
sweetmeats for the gondolier's ball, which we were giving in the
evening. There was also the contralto, with a large soup-ladle in
her hand. (We now call Rosalia, the cook, "the contralto," because
she sings so much better than she cooks that it seems only proper
to distinguish her in the line of her special talent.)

The assembled company were all talking and gesticulating at once.
There was a most delicate point of justice involved, for, as far as
I could gather, the sweetmeat-man had come in unexpectedly and
collided with the sausage-man, thereby startling the fritter-woman,
who turned suddenly and jostled the spry girl: hence the pile of
broken china.

The spry girl was all for justice. If she had carelessly or
wilfully dropped the pitcher, she would have been willing to suffer
the extreme penalty,--the number of saints she called upon to
witness this statement was sufficient to prove her honesty,--but
under the circumstances she would be blessed if she suffered
anything, even the abuse that filled the air. The fritter-woman
upbraided the sweetmeat-man, who in return reviled the sausage-
vender, who remarked that if Angelo or Peppina had received the
sausages at the door, as they should, he would never have been in
the house at all; adding a few picturesque generalizations
concerning the moral turpitude of Angelo's parents and the vicious
nature of their offspring.

The contralto, who was divided in her soul, being betrothed to the