"Animal!" they yelled. "Animal! Animal and beast!"

By this time a crowd had collected round the cart, and two carabineers
had come up to see what was the matter, quiet, sensible men in
extraordinary cocked hats and well-fitting swallow-tailed uniforms of
the fashion of 1810. The carabineers are quite the finest corps in the
Italian service, and there are a good many valid reasons why their
antiquated dress should not be changed. Their presence means law and
order without unnecessary violence.

Mommo was surly, but respectful enough. Yes, it was his cart, and he was
a regular carter on the Frascati road. Yes, this was undoubtedly a sick
man, who had climbed upon the cart while Mommo was asleep. Of course he
had slept on the road, all carters did, and he had no dog, else no one
would have dared to take liberties with his cart. No, he had never seen
the sick man. The carabineers might send him to penal servitude for
life, tear out his tongue, cut off his ears and nose, load him with
chains, and otherwise annoy him, but he had never seen the sick man. If
he had seen him, he would have pulled him off, and kicked him all the
way to the hospital, where he ought to be. What right had such brigands
as sick men to tamper with the carts of honest people? If the fellow had
legs to jump upon the cart, he had legs to walk. Had Mommo ever done
anything wrong in his life, that this should be done to him? Had he
stolen, or killed anybody, or tried to evade the octroi duty? No. Then
why should an ugly thief of a sick man climb upon his cart? The wretch
had hardly clothes enough to cover him decently--a torn shirt and a pair
of old trousers that he must have stolen, for they were much too short
for him! And so on, and so forth, to the crowd, for the carabineers paid
no more attention to him after he had answered their first questions;