in the cathedrals at home, and he had been told that if you ask certain
things of it it will listen to you.

The women and children began to disappear from the crowd, and the
necessity of selling some of his wares impressed itself more urgently
upon him as the night grew darker and possible customers fewer. He
decided that he had taken up a bad position, and that instead of waiting
for customers to come to him, he ought to go seek for them. With this
purpose in his mind, he gathered the figures together upon his tray, and
resting it upon his shoulder, moved further along the street, to
Broadway, where the crowd was greater and the shops more brilliantly
lighted. He had good cause to be watchful, for the sidewalks were
slippery with ice, and the people rushed and hurried and brushed past
him without noticing the burden he carried on one shoulder. He wished
now that he knew some words of this new language, that he might call his
wares and challenge the notice of the passers-by, as did the other men
who shouted so continually and vehemently at the hurrying crowds. He did
not know what might happen if he failed to sell one of his statues; it
was a possibility so awful that he did not dare conceive of its
punishment. But he could do nothing, and so stood silent, dumbly
presenting his tray to the people near him.

His wanderings brought him to the corner of a street, and he started to
cross it, in the hope of better fortune in untried territory. There was
no need of his hurrying to do this, although a car was coming towards
him, so he stepped carefully but surely. But as he reached the middle of
the track a man came towards him from the opposite pavement; they met
and hesitated, and then both jumped to the same side, and the man's
shoulder struck the tray and threw the white figures flying to the
track, where the horses tramped over them on their way. Guido fell