Here Is The Last Judge Come At Last, And Now He Takes His Place At
The Horse-Shoe Table.
There is a murmur of irrepressible agitation.
In the midst of it,
the priest puts his head into the sacred vestments, and pulls the
same over his shoulders. Then he says a silent prayer; and dipping
a brush into the pot of Holy Water, sprinkles it over the box--and
over the boy, and gives them a double-barrelled blessing, which the
box and the boy are both hoisted on the table to receive. The boy
remaining on the table, the box is now carried round the front of
the platform, by an attendant, who holds it up and shakes it
lustily all the time; seeming to say, like the conjurer, 'There is
no deception, ladies and gentlemen; keep your eyes upon me, if you
please!'
At last, the box is set before the boy; and the boy, first holding
up his naked arm and open hand, dives down into the hole (it is
made like a ballot-box) and pulls out a number, which is rolled up,
round something hard, like a bonbon. This he hands to the judge
next him, who unrolls a little bit, and hands it to the President,
next to whom he sits. The President unrolls it, very slowly. The
Capo Lazzarone leans over his shoulder. The President holds it up,
unrolled, to the Capo Lazzarone. The Capo Lazzarone, looking at it
eagerly, cries out, in a shrill, loud voice, 'Sessantadue!' (sixty-
two), expressing the two upon his fingers, as he calls it out.
Alas!
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