ed. It was then the time to get rid of women-hating
cows and oxen and "made-up" horses.

In the afternoon we went to the church of St. Francis to see the
_piccola ruota_ of the Neapolitan peasants, which is apparently a
rehearsal for the _gran ruota_ to be performed in the Porziuncola the
day following. These people were all gone, when we reached the church,
to follow a relic-bearing procession of Franciscans to the little
chapel built over the spot where St. Francis was born, and the
spectators took advantage of the opportunity to range themselves about
the walls and wherever they could find places. We were scarcely in the
seats offered us in the choir when a murmur of subdued exclamations, a
trampling of many feet and a cloud of dust that filled the vestibule
announced the return of the procession. The gates of the iron grating
which shut off the chancel and transepts from the nave were opened to
admit the monks with their relic, and closed immediately to exclude the
crowd. After the short function was ended they were again opened, and
the crowd rushed in and began to run around the altar.

These people were all poor: many were old and had to be held up and
helped along by a younger person at either side. The women wore
handkerchiefs on their heads, and many wore those sandals made of a
piece of leather tied up over the foot with strings which give these
peasants their popular name of _sciusciari_, an imitative word derived
from the scuffling sound of the sandals in walking. They hurried
eagerly on, hustling each other, murmuring prayers and ejaculations,
and seemed quite unconscious of the crowd of persons who had come there
to stare, perhaps to laugh, at them. The Asisinati looked on without
taking any part, and with a curiosity not unmingled with contempt. "The
Neapolitans are so material!" they say.

These repeated circlings of the altar, I was told, are intended as so
many visits, each time they go round having the value of a visit. Many
of these people seek the Pardon not only for themselves, but for
friends who are unable to come. The absent confess and communicate at
their parish church at home, and unite their intention with that of the
person who makes the visit for them.

My _padrona di casa_ told me an anecdote in illustration of this
materialism of the Neapolitans, which the Asisinati are anxious not to
be thought to share: On the first of August several years before, she
said, when the church of St.