ss-boy, who was hidden as before, replied: 'Oh, my son, I am
sorry to say that thy wife is no better than she should be--_ha fatto
fallo con piu d'uno_--and everybody in Florence except thee knows it.'

"'And my son?' gasped the shoemaker.

"'_He will be hung_,' replied the voice.

"The shoemaker rose and departed abruptly. In the middle of the church
he paused, and, without a sign of the cross, and putting on his cap, he
cried: 'What sort of a Saint John are you, anyhow?'

"'Saint John the Baptist,' replied the voice.

"'_Sia col malanno e con la mala Pasque che Iddio ti dia_!--Then may the
Lord give you a bad year and a miserable Easter-tide! You never utter
aught save evil, and it was for thy evil tongue that Herod cut thy head
off--and served thee right! I do not believe a word of all which thou
hast told me. I have been coming here every day for twenty-five years,
and never asked thee for anything before; but I will make one more vow to
thee, and that is--never to see thy face again.'

"And when Messer Cosimo had ended, Piovano Arlotto replied:

"'One good turn deserves another. It is not many years ago since a poor
_farsettajo_, or doublet-maker, lived in Florence, his shop being close
to the Oratorio di Orto San Michele, {126} and every morning he went to
worship in the church, and lit a candle before a picture representing
Christ as a child disputing with the Doctors, while his mother enters
seeking him.

"'And after he had done this daily for more than twenty-five years, it
happened that his little son, while looking on at a game of ball, had a
tile fall on his head, which wounded him terribly. The doctors being
called in, despaired.

"'The next morning the poor tailor went to his devotions in Or' San
Michele, bearing this time, instead of a farthing taper, a great
wax-candle; and kneeling, he spoke thus: "_Dolce Signor mio Gesu Cristo_,
I beg thee to restore my son to health. Thou knowest that I have
worshipped thee here for twenty-five years, and never asked for anything
before, and thou thyself can best bear witness to it. This my son is all
my happiness on earth, and he was also most devoted to thee. Should he
be taken away, I would die in despair, and so I commend myself to three!"

"'Then he departed, and coming home, learned that his son had died.

"'The next morning, in grief and anger, he entered Orto San Michele, and,
without any candle, he went directly to the picture, and, withou