We were scarcely in the
seats offered us in the choir when a murmur of subdued exclamations, a
trampling of many feet and a cloud of dust that filled the vestibule
announced the return of the procession. The gates of the iron grating
which shut off the chancel and transepts from the nave were opened to
admit the monks with their relic, and closed immediately to exclude the
crowd. After the short function was ended they were again opened, and
the crowd rushed in and began to run around the altar.
These people were all poor: many were old and had to be held up and
helped along by a younger person at either side. The women wore
handkerchiefs on their heads, and many wore those sandals made of a
piece of leather tied up over the foot with strings which give these
peasants their popular name of _sciusciari_, an imitative word derived
from the scuffling sound of the sandals in walking. They hurried
eagerly on, hustling each other, murmuring prayers and ejaculations,
and seemed quite unconscious of the crowd of persons who had come there
to stare, perhaps to laugh, at them. The Asisinati looked on without
taking any part, and with a curiosity not unmingled with contempt.
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