A Bell for Adano Read Online Free PDF

turn-back coat had once been lined with red silk, but the silk had long since fallen apart, and Carmelina the wife of Fatta had replaced it with sacking from the sulphur refinery which she had dyed purple with grape juice, but the purple had washed out in the first few rains, so that now Mercurio Salvatore was a walking advertisement of Cacopardo Sulphur.
    If Major Joppolo had been any other American officer, he would have laughed outright at Mercurio Salvatore. But Major Joppolo was so intent on what he wanted to say that he scarcely noticed the uniform.
    He said: “Crier, I have a job for you. I must explain this to you: the Americans are different from the Fascists. They are different in many ways. For this reason there will be quite a few changes in Adano. I hope that they will be changes for the better.”
    Mercurio Salvatore said: “Yes, Mister Major,” to show that he would remember every word of it.
    The Major said: “In order to explain some of these changes, I am going to post at various prominent places around the town a number of proclamations, which will make everything clear. All I want you to do is to tell the people to read these proclamations. Impress on them that the penalties for not obeying the proclamations will be severe. That is all.”
    Mercurio Salvatore looked disappointed. “That is not much to shout,” he said.
    Major Joppolo said: “Shall I name a new crier?” Mercurio Salvatore said quickly: “Oh no, Mister Major, I will make something beautiful of what you have said.”
    Major Joppolo said: “The proclamations will be posted before five o’clock this afternoon.”
    Mercurio Salvatore said: “Yes, Mister Major,” and left.
    He picked up his drum where he had left it outside the Major’s office. Ordinarily he had made his first cry in the Piazza Progresso, right in front of the Palazzo, but this time he was self-conscious, and wanted to have a few tries before crying within earshot of the Major.
    Therefore he went first to the park opposite the Cathedral.
    He rolled his drum long and sharply.
    He saw Italian heads pop out of windows and several people sauntered out of their doors and leaned against the walls. Because of the number who had run to the hills, he could see that he would not have so good an audience this time as he had often had in the past. But at least he had an audience, and that was more than he had expected an hour before.
    He took a deep breath. Blood and wind rushed into his throat, and his throat roared: “Well, you laughed. But you can see that Mercurio Salvatore is still your crier. The Americans are friends of Mercurio Salvatore. The Americans wish to be your friends, too. You have been expecting the Americans for some time, but did you expect the changes which would come after the Americans? Did you know that they were going to change many things after they came? Did you know that they were going to change practically everything except the crier? Well, your crier is here to tell you this.”
    Mercurio Salvatore, who had not had any shouting to do for nearly six weeks, was somewhat winded. He rested a moment, took another deep breath, and roared: “Your crier has not time to enumerate all these changes. They will be listed for you in certain proclamations which the crier’s friends, the Americans, will post around the town later today, at about five o’clock. Read these proclamations, people! Obey them, or your new friends will be angry and will behave like the Fascists who are now, thank Jesus, hiding in the hills. Choose, people: friendliness or Fascist punishmentsl Read the proclamations and choose. I have cried.”
    And Mercurio Salvatore hitched his drum around back and marched off to the high ground in front of the ruins of the Castello San Giovanni. There he gave the drum another sharp roll and waited for people to get their ears outdoors.
    Now Mercurio Salvatore filled his lungs and bellowed: “Opposite me I see Carmelina the wife of Fatta in front