amped and orderly procession through the avenue that opened
to them in the crowd to the door of the church, where they disappeared
behind the great leather curtain.

It was a great day for the friars of the Servi, who were rivals of the
Frari both in learning and splendor, and the entire Servite Brotherhood,
black-robed and white-cowled, was just coming in sight over the little
marble bridge, preceded by youthful choristers, chanting as they came
and bearing with them that famous banner which had been sent them as a
gift from their oldest chapter of San Annunziata in Florence, and which
was the early work of Raphael.

A small urchin, leaning far over the edge of the quay and craning his
neck upward for a better view, reported some special attraction in this
approaching group which elicited yells of vociferous greeting from his
colleagues, with such forceful emphasis of his own curling, expressive
toes, that he lost his balance and rolled over into the water; from
which he was promptly rescued by a human ladder, dexterously let down to
him in sections, without a moment's hesitation, by his allies, who, like
all Venetian boys of the populace, were amphibious animals, full of
pranks.

But now there was no more time for fooling on the quay, for at the great
end-window of the library of the convent of the Frari it could be seen
that a procession of this body was forming and would presently enter the
church, and the fun would begin for those who understood Latin.

A round-faced friar was giving obliging information. The contest would
be between the Frari and the Servi; there was a new brother who had just
entered their order,--and very learned, it was said,--but the name was
not known. He would appear to respond to the propositions of the Frari.

"Yes, the theses would be in Latin--and harder, it was said, had never
been seen. There were the theses in one of those black frames, at the
side of the great door."

"But Latin is no good, except in missals, for women and priests to
read."

The gondolier who owned the voice was undiscoverable among the crowd,
and the remark passed with some humorous retaliation.

Hints of the day's entertainment sifted about, with much more,--each
suggestion, true or otherwise, waking its little ripple of interest,--as
some nearest the curtain lifted it up, went in, and returned, bringing
reports.

"The church is filled with great ones, and Mass is going on," a small
scout reported; "and