that they had put Garofoli in prison, and for the first time I thought the prisons, which inspired me with so much horror, had their use.
"And the other boys?" I asked.
"Oh, I don't know. I was not there when Garofoli was arrested. When I came out of the hospital, Garofoli, seeing that it was no good to beat me 'cause I got ill, wanted to get rid of me, so he sold me for two years to the Gassot Circus. They paid him in advance. D'ye know the Gassot Circus? No? Well, it's not much of a circus, but it's a circus all the same. They wanted a child for dislocation, and Garofoli sold me to Mr. Gassot. I stayed with him until last Monday, when he sent me off because my head was too big to go into the box. After leaving the circus I went back to find Garofoli, but the place was all shut up, and a neighbor told me what had happened. Now that Garofoli's in prison I don't know where to go.
"And I haven't any money," he added, "and I haven't had a bite to eat since yesterday."
I was not rich, but I had enough to give something to poor Mattia. How I would have blessed one who would have given me a crust of bread when I was wandering round Toulouse, famished like Mattia now.
"Stay here until I come back," I said.
I ran to a bakery at the corner of the street and soon returned with a roll, which I offered him. He devoured it in a moment.
"Now," I said, "what do you want to do?"
