When he came in Anania told everything to Aunt Tatàna, who was preparing a sweetmeat, compounded of oranges, honey and almonds, for him to present to some great person at Cagliari. "Look," said the boy, "your priest gave me a crown, and the doctor gave me two lire. I don't like to take it." "Oh, bad child! It's the custom to give presents to a boy going away for the first time!" said the woman, shaking and stirring the slender strips of orange-peel in the shining copper saucepan. Strong smell of boiling honey perfumed the kitchen. Everywhere were little yellow baskets packed with the stores for the student. Anania sat down with the cat on his knee. "I wonder where I shall be in a week? Stay quiet, Mussittu, put your tail down! Your priest read me such a long sermon." "I suppose he told you to make your confession and take the Communion before starting?" "That was necessary twenty years ago, when one went to Cagliari on a horse and took three days over it. It's not the fashion now!" "You bad child! don't you believe in God? Holy Saint Catharine, what will become of you at Cagliari? I hope you'll anyhow go to La Sea (the cathedral), where there's a picture that does miracles. Cagliari's a very pious place. You won't speak against religion, I hope?" "Never mind Cagliari! Every one believes what he can and what he likes. I venerate God more in my heart than all the hypocrites." These words were somewhat consolatory to the good woman. She told him the Bible story of Eli, and then let him continue the description of his visits. The kitten had climbed on his shoulder and was licking his ear, tickling him in a way that somehow reminded him of Margherita. He was telling the vulgar joke about Carchide's engagement when Nanna came in, Aunt Tatàna having sent her to buy comfits for her sweetmeat. Her skirt was torn, and she looked even worse than usual, as she stood unrolling her package and trying to listen to the conversation. "Did you hear," said simple Aunt Tatàna, "that horrid Franziscu Carchide wants to marry Margherita Carboni?" "No, that's not what I said!" cried Anania. "Oh, I know Franziscu," said Nanna, "he's mad. He asked first for the doctor's daughter. They chased him out with the broom handle, and now he thinks he'll get Margherita because he made her shoes too small." "He wants a kick in the face!" cried Anania jumping up, the cat round his neck. Nanna looked at him, her little eyes shining shrewdly. "That's what I say. But there's an officer, a general I think, who wants to marry Margherita. No, I say, she's a rose and she must marry a pink--fresh and sweet, both of them. Take it!" she went on offering a comfit to Anania. He drew back, while the kitten vainly stretched its paw to the little white object. "Keep off! You smell like a wine barrel!" said the boy, and Nanna staggered and dropped all her comfits on the floor.