A Golden Book of Venice | Page 3

filed
in cramped 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 that was Don Ambrogio Morelli that just went in
with a lady--our old Abbé from the school at San Marcuolo--Beppo
goes there now! And don't some of us remember Pierino--always
studying and good for nothing, and not knowing enough to wade out of
a _rio_? The Madonna will have hard work to look after _him_!"
"Don Ambrogio just wants to cram us boys," Beppo confessed, in a

confidential tone; "but it's no use knowing too much, even for a priest.
For once, at San Marcuolo--true as true, faith of the Madonna!--one of
those priests told the people one day in his sermon that there were no
ghosts!"
The boy crossed himself and drew a quick breath, which increased the
interest of his auditors.
"_Ebbene_!" he continued, in an impressive, awestruck whisper. "He
had to come out of his bed at night--Santissima Maria!--and it was the
ghosts of all the people buried in San Marcuolo who dragged him and
kicked him to teach him better, because he wanted to make believe the
dead stayed in their graves! So where was the use of his Latin?"
"Pierino will be like his uncle, the Abbé Morelli, some day; they say he
also will be a priest."
"I believe thee," said Beppo, earnestly; "and that was he going in
behind the banner, with the Servi."
The little fellows made an instant rush for the door, and squeezed
themselves in behind the poor old women of the neighborhood for
whom festivals were perquisites, and who, maimed or deformed, knelt
on the stone floor close to the entrance, while with keenly observant,
ubiquitous eyes they proffered their aves and their petitions for alms
with the same exemplary patience and fervor--"Per l'amor di Dio,
Signori!"
The body of the church, from the door to the great white marble screen
of the choir and from column to column, was filled with an assembly in
which the brilliant and scholarly elements predominated; and seen
through the marvelous fretwork of this screen of leafage and scroll and
statue and arch, intricately wrought and enhanced with gilding, the
choir presented an almost bewildering pageant. The dark wood
background of the stalls and canopies, elaborately carved and polished
and enriched with mosaics, each surmounted with its benediction of a
gilded