look out and see how we can earn a crust of
bread.'

"The old man brought me along with him here. He was not so poor as he
seemed to be from his mean clothing. Directly we arrived I saw him rip
up his jerkin and produce a bag of sequins; and he spent the whole day
running about on the Rialto, now acting as broker, now dealing on his
own account. I had always to be close at his heels; and whenever he had
made a bargain he had a habit of begging a trifle for the _figliuolo_
(little boy). Every one whom I looked boldly in the face was glad to
pull out a few pence, which the old man pocketed with infinite
satisfaction, affirming, as he stroked my cheeks, that he was saving it
up to buy me a new jerkin. I was very comfortable with the old man,
whom the people called Old Father Bluenose, though for what reason I
don't know. But this life did not last long. You will remember that
terrible time, old woman, when one day the earth began to tremble, and
towers and palaces were shaken to their very foundations and began to
reel and totter, and the bells to ring as if tolled by the arms of
invisible giants. Hardly seven years have passed since that day.
Fortunately I escaped along with my old man out of the house before it
fell in with a crash behind us. There was no business doing; everybody
on the Rialto seemed stunned, and everything lifeless. But this
dreadful event was only the precursor of another approaching monster,
which soon breathed out its poisonous breath over the town and the
surrounding country. It was known that the pestilence, which had first
made its way from the Levant into Sicily, was committing havoc in
Tuscany.[20] As yet Venice had been spared. One day Old Father Bluenose
was dealing with an Armenian on the Rialto; they were agreed over their
bargain, and warmly shook hands. Father Bluenose had sold the Armenian
certain good wares at a very low price, and now asked for the usual
trifle for the _figliuolo_. The stranger, a big stalwart man with a
thick curly beard (I can see him now), bent a kind look upon me, and
then kissed me, pressing a few sequins into my hand, which I hastily
pocketed. We took a gondola to St. Mark's. On the way the old man asked
me for the sequins, but for some reason or other, I don't know what
induced me to do it, I maintained that I must keep them myself, since
the Armenian had wished me to do so. The old man got angry; but whilst
he was quarrelling with me I noticed a disagreeable di