CHAPTER VII
I FELT that I must leave the house. It was noon, San Moglio sat at meat, but I had stomach for neither meat nor drink this day, I walked up the hill and sought solitude in a little-frequented place hardly larger than a handkerchief at San Moglio's summit. In the shadow of a church portico sat Brother Agnello, and he threw crumbs to the birds. My heart was gladdened that there were those who could feed birds in the sunshine. I sat myself beside him, and a little blond child came up and leaned herself against his knees and reached up shyly for a bit of bread. And some other children joined us, some shyly, some boldly. When all the bread was gone but the last bit, the boldest two quarreled for it, and one snatched it, at which the other wept and said:
"I shall tell my big brother what you have done to me and he will kill you with his black ballot."
"Ah, but my father," said the other, "will kill him first, for he, too, has a black ballot."
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