He had given a package of dry, black bread to each of them and had told them to sleep at nights in barns.
Sales were few, and long after their bread was gone they had wandered on, not daring to go back until they had sold all their wares.

What little money they had taken in they dared not spend for food, for fear the _padrone_ would whip them! Their tale roused no little indignation in the old Squire and grandmother Ruth.
What with the food and the warmth the little Italians soon grew so sleepy that they drowsed off before our eyes.

We made a couch of blankets for them in a warm corner, and they were still soundly asleep there when Addison and I went out to do the farm chores the next morning.
We kept the little image peddlers with us for several days thereafter.
In fact, we were at a loss to know what to do with them, for a cold snap had come on.

With their thin clothes and worn-out shoes they were in no condition either to go on or to go back; and, moreover, now that their images were broken, they were in terror of their _padrone_.
One of the boys was slightly larger and stronger than the other; his name, he managed to tell us, was Emilio Foresi.

The first name of the other was Tomaso, but I have forgotten his surname.