“We must make room here, there, everywhere, for these new ones,” Caterina answered. “No one could have expected such a calamity; how could we be prepared?” She spoke with the anxiety of a hostess, who has not beds enough for her guests to sleep in. “These poor dead, they too must lie in sanctified ground; it is their turn.” “Those buried here before?” “The people who died of the last cholera.” “Let us go,” said Patsy, “we’ve seen enough.” Did he remember the story they tell in Florence? When the ancient city wall was taken down fifty years ago, the workmen died like sheep of a mysterious disease. An investigation was ordered. It was found that the old wall crossed the cemetery, where the victims of the great plague were buried in the fourteenth century; the plague germs were still alive, and the workmen had died of the plague that in Boccaccio’s time decimated Florence. “Would you like a new dress, Caterina?” said Patsy, as we paused at the gate. Her ragged gown clung to her with the grace of classic drapery; it seemed a pity to change it for a stiff new dress. “Come to the Case Americane at two o’clock and ask for the Signora.” “_Si, Signorino!_” She watched us go with dancing eyes; she was to have a new dress. Carlino was waiting outside the gate. His cart was empty now; we stopped to look at the pretty turnout. The mule’s harness was superb, with a high pommel and headstall of crimson velvet embroidered in tinsel. The wooden axle was beautifully carved with grotesque heads at either end. The panels in sides and back of the cart were painted with different scenes from Sicilian history or literature. Many of the old legends are preserved in this way. In spite of the painting being rather poor, certain classic details are observed. The subject of each scene is stated so that there can be no doubt as to what the painter wishes to portray. On one panel of Carlino’s _carretto_ the title is painted under a tragic mask: “Eschylus gives a rehearsal of his play of Œdipus at Colonus at the Theatre of Dionysius.” “That’s Eschylus,” Patsy pointed out, “you know him by the roll of manuscript in his hand--the play happens to be by Sophocles, a mere detail!” The next panel represents English soldiers scouting in the desert. “That’s an officer in khaki and a wide-awake hat on horseback, with an Arab in a bournous pointing out the way.” “_La prima lettera amorosa_” occupies the third panel, a garden scene--a gentleman in Louis Quinze dress plays the harp to the heroine in pink satin, reading a letter; below the tail-board is a boldly carved dragon; in an under-panel a pair of sweethearts embracing. Carlino was proud of his cart, which was fresh, clean, and newly varnished. “Not a bad _carretto_, is it?” he said, pleased at our attention. We left Carlino waiting, and singing as he waited an old song of the people: