After Vanzetti was released from the stand, Simon Johnson returned to answer a few questions about Boda’s Overland. This ended the morning session. At the beginning of the afternoon session, at a word from Moore, Sacco with one quick backward look at his wife stepped to the stand. In spite of his jail pallor and his thinning hair, Sacco still kept an appearance of youth. Although born only three years after Vanzetti, he seemed a generation younger. He was dressed in a neat dark suit, a white shirt, and a black string tie. The _Post_ reporter found his appearance “frank and open.” He seemed glad finally to be able to tell his story. With Moore guiding him, he gave the matter-of-fact details of his childhood in Torremaggiore, then told of his early longing to go to America. “I was crazy to come to this country,” he explained, “because I was liked a free country, call a free country.” It was a fateful remark. After Sacco’s arrival in America there were the years of odd jobs before he learned a trade, there was his marriage, and finally there was the black-edged letter from his father that made him decide to go back to Italy. Only in passing did Sacco mention that he had left the United States in June 1917 and returned sometime in August. All this was just a preliminary to the history of April 15, 1920. That day, according to his account, he left Stoughton on the 8:56 A.M. train for Boston to go to the Italian consulate and apply for a _foglio di via_, a one-way passport to Italy. He arrived at the South Station and walked from there along Atlantic Avenue to the North End. On Prince Street he bought a copy of _La Notizia_ and spent some time reading it. Then he walked down Hanover Street, turned the corner, and ran into his friend Angelo Monello. Together they walked to Washington Street; Sacco continued alone, looking in the store windows and pricing the new suits and straw hats. The morning was getting on, and he thought he might as well have lunch and see about his passport afterward. As he was going in to Boni’s Restaurant he met Professor Guadagni, and they sat down at a table together. Albert Bosco was already there, and later Mr. Williams, the advertising man, joined them. Sacco stayed about an hour and afterward went uptown to the consulate on Berkeley Street. Arriving there at two, he said to the clerk, “I like to get a passport for my whole family. He asked me—he said, ‘You bring picture?’ I said, ‘Yes,’ so I gave it to him, see a big picture. He says, ‘Well, I am sorry. This picture is too big.’ ‘Well,’ I says, ‘can you cut and make him small?’ he said, ‘the picture we cannot use, because it goes too big.’ I says, ‘Can you cut?’ He says, ‘No, no use, because got to make a photograph just for the purpose for the passport, small very small.’”