itters. Still I should
have liked to see pictures of the young doctor, the young surgeon and the
young chemist curing patients of hernia and being martyred for the faith.

On the 9th of May in the evening we all went to the Teatro Machiavelli
and, coming out a little before midnight, walked up the Via Stesicoro
Etnea to the Piazza Cavour. The pavements were lined with people who had
come to see the sight and the roadway was left for those who were going
to Trecastagne. There were innumerable painted carts, some of them
nearly as fine as Ricuzzu's birthday present; the horses and mules were
so splendidly harnessed and so proud of themselves that Peppino Di
Gregorio called them "cavalli mafiosi"; they were driving fast out of the
city with coloured lights and fireworks. Every now and then came a naked
man running in the road and carrying a large wax candle. They speak of
them as I Nudi, but they were not really naked; they wore white cotton
drawers down to their knees, a broad red waist-band and a broad red scarf
and some of them wore a flannel jersey. They were all bare-headed and
bare-footed, or rather without boots, for they wore socks; this is enough
to satisfy S. Alfio, who, being a doctor, does not insist on their taking
needless risk. Nevertheless the socks must get torn to pieces before
they are out of the town, and their feet must be bleeding long before
they reach Trecastagne. Some of the so-called nudi, both men and women,
were fully dressed except that they were without hats or boots. They all
ran, occasionally they may rest by walking, but they may not dance and
they may not stop and they may not greet their friends in the crowd
except by shouting "Con vera fede, Viva S. Alfio!" Each of them carries
his candle in his hand and it may cost five or ten francs, some cost as
much as twenty francs. For days before the festa they go about Catania
with trays collecting soldi from all they meet. But if one of them meets
the doctor who attended him in the hospital, he is careful not to make
the mistake of asking the doctor for a subscription. So they ran and
shouted, and I said:

"These are the carts that ought to have the story of S. Alfio. Couldn't
we stop one and look at it?"

They recommended me not to try, it would block the stream of traffic and
the people would not like it. So we sat in the piazza till about two in
the morning and watched them passing.

That was not all we were to see. In the