to gain a few soldi, and if people didn't kill and eat one thing,
they would another. The result of it all was that I determined for
the future to leave young birds to their fate; they and the boys
must settle that matter between themselves. If the young bird was
a boy, and the boy a young bird, it would have been the boy who was
taken ruthlessly from his nest and eaten. An old bird has no right
to have a homestead, and a young bird has no right to exist at all,
unless they can keep both homestead and existence out of the way of
boys who are in want of half-pence. It is all perfectly right, and
when we go and stay among these charming people, let us do so as
learners, not as teachers.

I watched the padrona getting my supper ready. With what art do
not these people manage their fire. The New Zealand Maoris say the
white man is a fool: "He makes a large fire, and then has to sit
away from it; the Maori makes a small fire, and sits over it." The
scheme of an Italian kitchen-fire is that there shall always be one
stout log smouldering on the hearth, from which a few live coals
may be chipped off if wanted, and put into the small square
gratings which are used for stewing or roasting. Any warming up,
or shorter boiling, is done on the Maori principle of making a
small fire of light dry wood, and feeding it frequently. They
economise everything. Thus I saw the padrona wash some hen's eggs
well in cold water; I did not see why she should wash them before
boiling them, but presently the soup which I was to have for my
supper began to boil. Then she put the eggs into the soup and
boiled them in it.

After supper I had a talk with the padrone, who told me I was
working too hard. "Totam noctem," said he in Latin, "lavoravimus