A certain amount of trouble and disturbance would have been caused by dislodging the culprit, and each man there felt only this; that it didn't matter a straw, and that there was no reason for _him_ to take the trouble of noticing it.

As far as I could observe, the amusement the little wretch derived from his performance was entirely unsocial, and confined to his own breast; for I could not see that any of the _gamin_ fraternity noticed it, or cared about it, any more than their seniors.
I remember another somewhat analogous adventure of mine, equally illustrative of the Florentine habits of those days.

I saw a man suddenly stagger and fall in the street.

It was in the afternoon, and there were many persons in the street, some of them nearer to the fallen man than I was, but nobody, attempted to help him.

I stepped forward to do so, and was about to take hold of him and try to raise him, when one of the by-standers eagerly caught me by the arm, saying, "He is dying, he is dying!" "Let us try to raise him," said I, still pressing forward.