"Come here, come here," pursued comare Sidora, "The nice cake's ail ready. There, there! Don't cry; for your mamma's in Paradise."
The little girl then dried her eyes with her doubled fists, because she saw that comare Sidora was preparing to open the oven.
"Poor comare Nunzia!" said a neighbor, appearing at the door. "The gravediggers are on their way. They just passed by here."
"Heaven protect me! as I am under Mary's grace!"[1] exclaimed the women, crossing themselves.
Comare Sidora took the cake out of the oven, brushed off the ashes, and handed it, smoking hot, to the little girl, who took it in her apron and walked away slowly, slowly, blowing on it as she went.
"Where are you going?" cried comare Sidora. "Stay here! There's a black-faced ba-bau at your house who carries folks off."
- ↑ "Lontano sia! che son figlia di Maria!"
