times during the twenty-four hours, and not from one to
twelve strokes, as with us. Sunset is twenty-four o'clock, and is noted
by six strokes; an hour after sunset is one o'clock, and is noted by one
stroke; and so on until six hours after, when it begins striking one
again. As the quarter hours are also rung by the clocks, if you happen
to be near one you will have a fine chance to get in a muddle trying to
separate quarters from hours, and Roman time from your own. Another
noise comes from the game of _morra_. Caper was looking out of his
window one morning, pipe in mouth, when he saw two men suddenly face
each other, one of them bringing his arm down very quickly, when the
other yelled as if kicked, '_Due!_' (two), and the first shouted at the
top of his lungs, '_Tre!_' (three). Then they both went at it, pumping
their hands up and down and spreading their fingers with a quickness
which was astonishing, while all the time they kept screaming, 'One!'
'Four!' 'Three!' 'Two!' 'Five!' etc., etc. 'Ha!' said Caper, 'this is
something like; 'tis an arithmetical, mathematical, etcetrical school in
the open air. The dirtiest one is very quick; he will learn to count
five in no time. But I don't see the necessity of saying "three" when
the other brings down four fingers, or saying "five" when he shows two.
But I suppose it is all right; he hasn't learned to give the right names
yet.' He learned later that they were gambling.

While these men were shouting, there came along an ugly old woman with a
tambourine and a one-legged man with a guitar, and seeing prey in the
shape of Caper at his window, they pounced on him, as it were, and
poured forth the most ear-rending discord; the old lady singing, the old
gentleman backing up against a wall and scratching at an accompaniment
on a jangling old guitar. The old lady had a bandana handkerchief tied
over her head, and whilst she watched Caper she cast glances up and down
the street, to see if some rich stranger, or _milordo_, was not coming
to throw her a piece of silver.

'What are you howling about?' shouted Caper down to her.

'A new Neapolitan canzonetta, signore; all about a young man who grieves
for his sweetheart, because he thinks she is not true to him, and what
he says to her in a serenade.' And here she screechingly sung,--

But do not rage, I beg, my dear;
I want you for my wife,
And morning, noon, and night likewise,
I'll love you like my life.

CHORUS.