ever let anything slip
through their fingers.

Oh, yes, summer was all right, but there was always winter to face.
To-day he was so very hungry, and the lupin skins which he had
collected for his breakfast were all eaten long ago. He had hung about
the little open shops, sniffing up the delicious smell of fried
polenta, but no one had given him a morsel. All he had got was a stern
'be off' when he ventured too close to the tempting food. If only this
day had been a festa, he might have done well enough. For in the great
processions when the priests and people carried their lighted candles
round the church, he could always dart in and out with his little iron
scraper, lift the melted wax of the marble floor and sell it over again
to the candlemakers.

But there were no processions to-day, and there remained only one thing
to be done. He must go home and see if Mona Lapaccia had anything to
spare. Perhaps the saints took notice when he was hungry.

Down the street he ran, keeping close to the wall, just as the dogs do
when it rains. For the great overhanging eaves of the houses act as a
sheltering umbrella. Then out into the broad street that runs beside
the river, where, even in winter, the sun shines warmly if it shines
anywhere.

Filippo paused at the corner of the Ponte alla Carraja to watch the
struggles of a poor mule which was trying to pull a huge cartload of
wood up the steep incline of the bridge. It was so exciting that for a
moment he forgot how cold and hungry he was, as he shouted and screamed
directions with the rest of the crowd, darted in and out in his
eagerness to help, and only got into every one's way.

That excitement over, Filippo felt in better spirits and ran quickly
across the bridge. He soon threaded his way to a poor street that led
towards one of the city gates, where everything looked dirtier and more
cheerless than ever. He had not expected a welcome, and he certainly
did not get one, as, after climbing the steep stairs, he cautiously
pushed open the door and peeped in.

His aunt's thin face looked dark and angry. Poor soul, she had had no
breakfast either, and there would be no food that day unless her work
was finished. And here was this troublesome boy back again, when she
thought she had got rid of him for the day.

'Away!' she shouted crossly. 'What dost thou mean by coming back so
soon? Away, and seek thy living in the streets.'

'It is too cold,' said the boy, creeping into