On July 5 Jerry McAnamey resumed his place within the bar enclosure. Attendance had fallen off in the last week, but on this Tuesday morning every seat was occupied in anticipation of the defendants’ taking the stand. The first witness was Aldeah Florence of Quincy, with whom Sarah Berardelli had boarded after her husband’s death. Testifying for the defense, she said that Sarah had told her a few days after her husband’s funeral that he might still be alive if only he had not left his revolver in the repair shop. Her examination and cross-examination lasted less than ten minutes. Then came a pause, with Moore and the McAnameys whispering together, while the district attorney stood by, smiling knowingly. Finally Jerry McAnamey turned toward the cage and asked “Will the defendant Vanzetti be brought forward?” A murmur ran through the courtroom. It was the moment that everyone had been awaiting since the beginning of the trial. A deputy unlocked the metal door. Quietly, Vanzetti stepped forward and raised his hand in oath before Clerk Worthington. The receding hairline of his domed forehead, the wrinkles around his eyes, the slight sag of flesh under his chin, above all his drooping mustache, made him look at least fifteen years older than thirty-three. He was dressed neatly in a dark suit, white shirt, high stiff collar, and black bow tie. On the stand he told his story in an assured manner, using few gestures, answering all questions without hesitation. Guided by Jerry McAnamey, he told briefly of his early life, then of his years of wandering until he ended up with the Brinis in Plymouth. The rest had by now become a familiar story. On April 15, he said, he had been peddling fish in North Plymouth. Almost at the corner of Castle Street he had met Rosen with his bolt of cloth and they had gone to the Brinis’ together. About one o’clock he had sold all his fish and was going down Ocean Street with his empty pushcart when he saw Mr. Corl painting his boat. He stopped to talk with him and while they were talking Mr. Jesse, the boatbuilder, came along, and also a Mr. Holmes from the lumberyard. They chatted a while, and after he left Mr. Corl he had gone home with his pushcart, changed his clothes, and cooked his evening meal. What he had done that evening he did not now remember. The next morning he went to Marvelli’s store to buy a Boston _Post_ and find out what time the tide would be low so that he could dig clams. He dug clams most of the day and afterward sold them. On April 17 in the morning he tried to get a job at the garage they were building in front of the carbarn. There was no work there, however, so in the afternoon he took the train to Whitman and from there the streetcar to Brockton where he had eaten supper with a friend named Caldera and afterward gone on to Boston.