Mezzoni the Brigand — page 57: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

MEZZONI THE BRIGAND. 49 moments of being in a sound sleep. Seamen pick up a smattering of many languages, and especially of the Italian, so that it was difficult to say whether the stranger was English, or what is familiarly termed at sea a Levanter, meaning one born any- where upon the southern coast of Europe but who had been long in the Mediterranean trade. The sailor slept soundly until nearly broad daylight the next morning—about eleven consecutive hours. He must have been wandering a long time to get so worn out physically. He had gone to the neighboring spring, and had. removed at least a portion of the dirt from his face, hands, and arms, and looked all the better for the washing, but it seemed very plain that cleanliness was not a prominent virtue with the half-clad strag- gler. He joined at their invitation the score of men who sat down to their coarse breakfast, eating heartily, and swallowing his allowance of country wine. Vec- chio sat by his side during the meal, and jested with him as to the whipping he would get after breakfast. “Allright. I’m ready,’ said the sailor. ‘Say your prayers first,’’ added Vecchio. ‘‘And make your will,’’ said another. ‘‘And get measured for your coffin.”’ said a third. ‘‘He laughs who wins,”’ said the sailor. ‘*‘Well said,’’ added the leader. ‘‘A ring, a ring,’’ was the cry. The banditti then formed a ring about the two men, who, stripped to the waist, prepared to do bat- tle. At the word they advanced to meet each other, the Italian carelessly and boldly, the sailor much more watchful and careful. The stranger was not so tall, nor so heavy as his antagonist—indeed, he Eomicbhoo ‘S; (ef e)