ant of
space in the rabbit hutch, only four kings could be shown. It is not
everyone who can entertain so many as four kings; there were none at
Ignazio's wedding. In this room there was also a monsignore with red
buttons to his sottana, he had an attendant who, my priest told me, was a
seminarista. In the alcove behind was Joachim's bed, and the empty cup
from which he had drunk his morning black coffee stood on the table by
his bedside.

The door leading to the fifth room was partly concealed by a notice with
these words: "E Nata Maria," and, accordingly, here we found the new-born
child in an elaborate cradle attended by three angels who were planted on
the floor in front of her, rather a Christmas-cardy group. Four queens
with crowns had come, no doubt they were the wives of Joachim's kings,
and there was a Jewish priest whom I took to be Simeon, he had a
head-covering with horns such as Caiaphas wears at Varallo. My priest,
however, assured me that Simeon was not a priest, he was only "un uomo
qualunque"; and he would have it that the figure represented Melchizedek.
This occasion must not be confused with a subsequent one when the _Nunc
Dimittis_ was improvised by Simeon, who, he said, could not have lived
long enough to be present on both occasions.

"Reverend Father," I objected, "pardon me if I give you an example which
points in the other direction. The best man or, as you would say, the
compare at my grandfather's wedding not only lived to perform the
ceremony of marrying my father and mother, but lived long enough also to
marry my brother."

The priest wavered, but was not convinced; he repeated that this was
Melchizedek and that he always appears at the birth of the Madonna, and I
was so much under the spell of the Nascita that I could not remember
precisely when Melchizedek lived. Whoever this personage was, he had
passed into this room from Joachim's room on the day of the Sacred Name
of Maria, that is on the Sunday after the birth, and he had officiated at
the baptism. On the floor was a bath of water with cinnamon, in which
the baby had been washed and with which the guests were to cross
themselves. S. Anna was in her bedroom in the alcove behind, but not in
bed, she got up and sat in a chair on the ninth day after the birth.

Through the door in the side the guests were to pass to the sixth room,
where there were nuns engaged in household duties, mending the linen,
darning the stockings, an