Who they were or whither they were traveling was at first far from clear, for they could not speak a word of English.
At last the old Squire, touched by their looks of despair and sorrow, decided to put their "rafts" on the horse sled and to take the little strangers home with us for the night.
They seemed to be chilled to the very marrow of their bones, for they hung round the stove in the kitchen as if they would never thaw out.
When grandmother Ruth set a warm supper before them, they ate like starved animals and cast pathetic glances at the table to see whether there was more food.

Tears stood in grandmother's eyes as she replenished their plates.
Little by little, with the aid of many signs and gestures, they managed to tell us their story.

A _padrone_ had brought them with nine other boys from Naples to sell plaster images for him; we gathered that this man, who lived in Portland, cast the images himself.

The only English words he had taught them were "ten cent," "twenty-five cent" and "fifty cent"-- the prices of the plaster casts.
A few days before, in spite of the bitterly cold weather, he had sent them out with their wares and bidden them to call at every house until they had sold their stock.

Then they were to bring back the money they had taken in.