Out of Nola: A Portrait of Two Families

By Mary-Jo Balman

The year was 1879. It was a sunny Sunday afternoon in Nola, Italy. The DiNobili family, proud, imperious and of substantial means, joined the crowd of people in the streets, celebrating the Festa Dei Gigli. At the same time, in a rural village just outside Nola, lived the daughter of a family - poor, humble farm hands, bound to the soil and subject to the will of an aristrocratic land owner. As the result of a misguided love affair with him, she produced an illegitimate child who would one day through marriage become part of the Ferraro family.

In the early 1900’s, both families emigrated to America. The DiNobili’s occupied first-class cabins, and the Ferraro’s sprawled out in steerage. Both settled in the poorest section of Brooklyn, New York, known as Greenpoint. The Ferraro’s rented a cold-water flat in a run-down tenement, and the DiNobili’s resided in the same type of tenement except that they owned the entire building.

Years later an offshoot of each of these disparate families created a new family as a result of the elopement in 1916 of Paolo DiNobili, and 16-year old Maria Ferraro - much to the dismay of both families - the DiNobili’s because of their assumed superior social status to the Ferraro’s and the Ferraro’s because the choice of a husband had already been made for Maria.

This tragi-comedy is told in colorful and authentic dialogue - a heart-rending account, juxtaposed with infectious humor as a picture of the lives of the descendants emerges. Paolo (Paul) Nobili’s life is woven throughout its telling - from his violent birth to his outrageous behavior on his death bed 92 years later. His often displayed uncontrollable rages and undeniable cruelty toward his family when provoked is shocking. Paul’s aberrant behavior degenerates into a new and lascivious dimension when, in his sixties, he forces upon his son’s wives and his grand daughters his latest ignoble trait.

Almost 150 years of tragedy and humor experienced by these families is laid bare. Paolo never experiences the humor.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Aug 31, 2018
• ISBN: 9781546256533

Mary-Jo Balman

Mary-Jo Balman is a world traveler whose books are set in various parts of the world. Her colorful characters, entertaining dialogue and insight into human foibles evoke the reader's own awareness of the human condition.

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© 2013 Mary-Jo Balman. All rights reserved.

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Published by AuthorHouse 09/26/2018

ISBN: 978-1-5462-5652-6 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5462-5653-3 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2018910000

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Contents

Part 1 Nola - 1879

Luigi (Uncle Louie)

Bianca - 1891

Paolo (Paul) - January 26, 1893

Thalia - 1917

Antoinette - 1899

Uncle Louie - 1913

Paul- 1916

Part 2 Casella Impitorre - 1881

Lucia - The Aftermath

Lucia On A Mission

Maria -1900

Part 3 Life In The New World

The Ferraro Offspring Earn Their Keep

Michael, Jr. -1906

A Gift From God - 1913

Rosa -1914

The Sweet Smell Of Escape - 1916

Nonna Luisa Welcomes Paul & Mary Home

Tony & Paul’s New Venture

The Light Bulb

Business As Usual - 1917

The Summer Of 1920

Bianca’s Gifts To Jimmy

Antoinette - 1917

Before The Wedding

Paul’s Family - Things Look Up

Assunta - 1921

Marie -1925

Antoinette - The Early Days

Joey - 1930

Uncle Charlie - 1903

Uncle Joe - 1904

A Memorable Sunday - 1928

Father & Sons - 1929

Black Tuesday - 1929

Mikey- 1929-1936

Movin’ On Up - 1932

Farewell P.s. 206

Mikey - 1933

No One Knew How Efficient Nonna Luisa Was - 1935

Uncle Johnny 1920 - 1941

The Ferraro’s - 1918-1940

Uncle Jack - 1930

Aunt Minnie

Aunt Rosie

Aunt Francy

Nonna Angela’s Pride And Joy

Susie - 1921

The Summer Of 1936

In Defense Of Paul

The De Nobili’s - 1930-1937 Antoinette

Joey - 1941

Mikey - 1941

Uncle Charlie - 1942

The War Is Ended

The Big Move

Mary & Paul - The Domestic Life

Joey - 1975

Mary & Paul In Their Dotage

Paul - 1985

Mary - 1988

Mikey - 1959-2005

Epilogue The De Nobili Cousins Cousin Grace

Cousin Frederick

Cousin Gilda - 1917

Cousins Arthur And Alfred

Cousin Julie

Cousin Alphonse (Foonzy)

Cousin Fanny - 1920

Cousins Lucy & Gina

Cousin James - 1949

Cousin Lucy - 1946

Cousin Gina - 1949

About The Author

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The DiNobili Family

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Out of Nola

I’m the only one left. Those of my immediate family have all long gone to join my ancestors. This portrait of two families consists of facts, incidents and conversations which were handed down to me together with my heretofore silent memories - the good, the ugly and the tragi-comedy that was my family. It begins almost a century and a half ago.

As you travel east-northeast 16 miles from Naples, Italy, you will reach the town of Nola, situated between Mt. Vesuvius and the Appenines. Here, one of the two families settled - the DeNobili’s. They were descended from one family a long, long time ago who migrated southward from Milano and settled here. The other family, the Ferraro’s, lived in a small community called Casella Impitorre, a short distance southwest of Nola. The paths of these two families eventually culminated in the union of my mother and father - my father from Nola and my mother from Casella Impitorre.

N.B. In order to protect the privacy of those of my remaining relations who may find some of this account less than flattering, some of the names have been changed. Also, some literary license has been used in certain instances for the sake of portraying an authentic characterization of the various family members depicted herein. In all other respects, this is a true portrayal of two families.

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PART 1

NOLA - 1879

O n June 22 in the year 1879, the populace thronged the sun-bathed streets of Nola to watch " La Festa dei Gigli" - the Feast of the Lilies. Eight Gigli towers and the boats that held them had been erected as was traditionally done each year and were danced through the streets in honor of San Paolino.

The symbolism of the Gigli comes from the story of San Paolino’s return to Nola with the men of the town who had been taken in captivity by the Romans during their invasion in 328 B.C.

Nola was, throughout its history from 500 B.C. to 904 A.D., constantly embroiled in battles with Romans, Saracens, Samnites and, in the Punic War, three times with Hannibal. Although Nola lost much of its importance, it remained a municipality with its own institutions and the use of the Oscan language. It became a Roman colony under Augustus, who died there in 14 A.D.

But, on this sunny morning, the townspeople were not thinking of Nola’s violent past but rather had their minds on the music, the dancing, the parade of the participants and, more importantly, the sumptuous displays of delicate fried pastries, hot sausages, fried zucchini leaves and refreshing paper cups of lemon ice on the stands that surrounded the route of the parade.

On this day, the bells of the Cathedral rang out at precisely 10:00 A.M., urging i peccatori - the sinners - to attend mass to see to their salvation. It was well known that San Paolino invented the church bell in the 4th Century which he himself named after the region of Campania - the region in which Nola was situated. The bell was later known throughout the world as a campanile. The people of Nola were as proud of their little town having this distinction and honor as they were of their picturesque winding cobble-stoned streets where the fronts of rows of flat-roofed white-plastered houses boasted window sills displaying ripening tomatoes, peppers or home-made salami hanging next to strings of garlic from the window sashes.

The city of 18,000 people expanded out to miles of fertile rolling hills - replete with vegetables, fruit and nut trees, grapevines and ample grass for the cows. Each farmhouse kept cages of chickens, goats and pungent sties of families of pigs. On marketing day, the townspeople had access to everything they needed for the week - and on the next day, Sunday, often packed their lamb heads or a particularly handsome looking codfish - prior to its salting and drying to become baccala - that the fishermen brought in or whatever struck their fancy - and took them to church to be blessed.

As the Gigli were being carried forward by groups of deeply tanned, sweating, muscular young men of the community, it neared the unlikely scene of a tussle between a 6-year old girl and a boy at least 4 years older than she. The girl was grabbing at and demanding to be given part of the boy’s zeppola - a deep-fried sweet morsel from heaven - the most significant pastry to be represented at feasts - and one which her parents had refused to buy for her. The bearers of the Gigli, upon seeing the violence erupt from such young children, began to laugh and almost dropped their burden. In time, the respective parents acted. Il Signore DeNobili yanked young Giuseppe away from his adversary, the diminutive Luisa, and boxed his ears. He then took the remaining zeppola from him and gave it to Luisa.

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On the other hand, La Signora Donofrio pulled her daughter, Luisa away, snatched the zeppola from her grimy hands, threw it toward a dog who had been sniffing at the stands and lightly slapped her younger daughter’s hands.

The DeNobili’s and the Donofrio’s were not only neighbors, but Godparents to each others’ younger children. Hence, six years later, at the age of 12, Luisa was betrothed to Giuseppe - a common custom of the time. Neither one was aware of the consequences of a betrothal - nor did they pay any attention to it. When the families got together and lifted their glasses of strega in a toast to the marriage contract, they then allowed Luisa and Giuseppe to have a sip before Il Signore DeNobili slipped a small gold ring onto the ring finger of the girl, Luisa, kissed her on the cheek and made the sign of the cross on her forehead. Likewise did La Signora Donofrio approach Giuseppe, arms outstretched, cooing, "Mio figlio…" - My son… - whereupon Giuseppe scornfully turned his head and narrowly avoided the revolting, loud, wet kiss on his cheek from his future mother-in-law as well as the unwelcome implantation of the sign of the cross on his forehead.

This ceremony, bordering on the religious, was even slightly more elaborate than Luisa’s first communion. All that it lacked was Father DeNunzio’s placement of the communion wafer on her tongue while the spinster of the group played Ave Maria on the old organ.

Luisa was imperious and demanding - even at the age of 12. Giuseppe was aware of her unpleasant personality, but worse than that, she had none of the delicate beauty of the distaff side of his extended family - nor, indeed of his own good looks. Giuseppe had inherited his blue eyes, his almost white, marble-like complexion, his delicate features and light-colored hair from his Northern Italian ancestors. He was not at all happy with his betrothed and complained to his mother, Mama, I know I must marry, but to this insect?! Even her older sister, Carmela, is not so ugly! His father, who was standing next to them, responded, My son, better to marry a good woman, from a good family, who has much property and money in the bank than a woman who is beautiful but poor. Be a good boy. We know what is best for you.

Giuseppe knew there was no escape from the tradition of honor among Neapolitans - you just didn’t disobey your parents’ wishes and still live in their house. But, he was 16, and knew well what was in store for him in four years. More than once he considered running away, but there was nowhere to run in Nola.

Giuseppe DeNobili and Luisa Donofrio were married in 1889. The family enjoyed rather comfortable circumstances. Giuseppe worked at Il Banco di Napoli. From reports from his children, he was a banker. The details of his actual position were never elaborated upon by any of them in later years, leaving open the question of whether he was president of the bank, the general manager, a teller or the janitor. Most of his offspring had inherited a proud and boastful attitude from their mother - so the impression they conveyed, whether accurate or not, was that he was a very important man, that is, a banker.

Giuseppe and Luisa were blessed - and here, the term is used loosely - with nine children - Luigi, Bianca, Paolo, Thalia, Assunta, Antoinette, Gaetano, Giuseppe, Jr. and Giovanni. Assunta, their fifth child, born in 1897, was saintly but sickly and died at the age of eight after several undisclosed illnesses. Giuseppe tolerated Luisa and doted on his children, taking no little pleasure in the fact that most of them resembled him rather than his unpleasant wife.

In 1910, Giuseppe DeNobili died, leaving his widow with eight children. Almost immediately, Luisa began to make plans to come to America. Before this, however, some unexpected events had taken place.

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LUIGI (UNCLE LOUIE)

B efore my Nonno (Grandpa) Giuseppe died, there was a significant move on his and my Nonna (Grandma) Luisa’s part.

To begin with, the birth of Uncle Louie in 1889, the first of their children, was a relatively untroubled one for Luisa. In a way, it foretold what sort of person Louie was to become - mild mannered and easy going just like his father. There was only one problem.

When Uncle Louie was thirteen years old, Giuseppe and Luisa had decided he should study for the priesthood - a distinctive honor among families and something Luisa could brag about to relatives and neighbors. They sent him to the seminary to complete his education and prepare him for his exalted position. Compared to his brother, Paolo, Luisa’s second son, who gave them nothing but trouble, Uncle Louie was a saint in the eyes of his parents. However, there appeared in his young life a young girl named Giovanna. She was five years older than he and worked at the seminary as a housekeeper. She thought Uncle Louie was very sympatico - and especially admired his blue eyes.

Uncle Louie, as mentioned, was well-behaved, studious and blindly obedient to his parents. But, he was easily intoxicated by the sight of a pretty girl - more definitively, any pretty girl. Neither Nonno Giuseppe nor Nonna Luisa were aware of these proclivities. In fact, all the students at the seminary were boys, so there was no reason to believe their son could or would be distracted by una femina - a girl. But, he could, and he was. After attending classes for two years, he was doing very well. One day, however, on his way back to his dormitory after classes, he chanced upon the housekeeper, Giovanna who was finishing up her chores in his area. He threw his books on his cot and over his shoulder, said to her, "Buon’ giorno."

She flashed a gleaming smile at him, placed her hand on his shoulder and said, "Ma que bello giovene." At the touch of her hand, and the sing-song tone of her voice saying to him, My what a beautiful young man, 15-year old Luigi was as far away from holy orders as he would ever be.

Every day after that, he would leave classes early so he could catch her in the dormitory before she was finished cleaning up and making the beds for the day. But now, when they met, it was he who put his arms around her and she who encouraged him. Soon, Giovanna suggested that they go behind the dormitory into the linen closet where no one could see them and where they could really love each other the way they should.

This extra-curricular activity continued daily for almost two years until one day, a month before Luisa was beginning to make plans for a celebration of Luigi’s ordination in the Spring, Father Bonifacio passed by the linen closet and heard loud moaning sounds. When he pushed open the door and beheld the ecstatically moaning prospective priest and the panting cleaning woman sending each other to paradise, young Luigi’s fate was decided. He was expelled.

At home, Nonno Giuseppe and Nonna Luisa were aghast when the priest reported to them why Luigi had been expelled. After being beaten with a broom by his mother, Luigi was sent to bed. Paolo, his 14-year old brother, was standing nearby, laughing until his eyes filled with tears. At this sight, Luisa lost control of herself, slapped Paolo as hard as she could and ordered him out of the house. She then looked at Giuseppe, hands on her hips and addressed him.

"Madonna mia! What do we do now?"

"Che figura!" What a disgrace!"

Eh! He’s you son!

What! I do it alone? You the mother. You suppose to see they grow up respectable.

Oh! You want I had to hide under the priest his robes to watch if he do something bad!?

"And how about you wonderful son, Paolo? You just close you eyes to everything he do since he is a small boy!"

Giuseppe was referring to Paolo’s involvement with a radical political group which espoused everything he, a banker, was opposed to.

"Oh, Madonna! Jesu himself no could control that one. You don’t know how many times he kick me in the ankle when I grab him and try to punish him for so many cosi malfatti - so many bad things he do. And what’s a matter? You the father. Why you no stop him?"

Such a disgrace! How I can face anyone at the bank? Or even in the whole city? We gotta do something.

"Ma, force - well, maybe - we can send them to America to live there until we ready to go to live there with the rest of the family."

Good idea. We send them to my sister, Emilia. Her husband, Nunzio, he has a nice cigar business.

"No! We send them to my sister, Carmela and her husband, Vincenzo. She know how to make them respectable!"

In 1909, both Louie and Paolo sailed on a big liner from Naples to New York. Now the DeNobili’s were left with six children - Bianca, Thalia, Antoinette, Gaetano, Giuseppe, Jr. and Giovanni.

In 1910, Giuseppe died. Soon after his death, Luisa began to make plans to come to America. The following year, she and the remaining children arrived at Ellis Island after a grueling sea voyage and joined her wayward sons. After the family arrived, they moved into a tenement in the Greenpoint section of Brooklyn which Luisa was able to buy with the money she realized from the sale of their home in Italy and the considerable savings she had amassed thanks to her late husband’s earnings and her own frugality. Once settled, the oddly unique characteristics of her children began to manifest themselves to her as she began to ponder the last eighteen years….

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BIANCA - 1891

I n 1891, two years after Uncle Louie was born, Luisa gave birth to her second child, Bianca, who was to become the most beautiful of the three girls who would follow her and, perhaps, the haughtiest. Not surprisingly, she was to become Luisa’s favorite - due mostly to her porcelain-white complexion, her clear blue eyes and blond hair - something the swarthy-looking, dark-haired, lusterless brown-eyed, unattractive Luisa would have gnawed her fists at had this not been her own daughter.

Bianca was almost twenty years old when the family came to America to live. Almost at once, she had many suitors. However, all were turned away by Luisa because either they were not refined enough or didn’t earn enough money to support Bianca in the style she deserved. On her 24th birthday, when her younger sisters, Thalia and Antoinette, were either betrothed or already married, Bianca began to have horrifying thoughts about having to live with her mother the rest of her life. She thought of eloping with one of the studs who hung around outside to ogle her when she came out of the house, but didn’t have the courage.

Luisa too, was beginning to worry about Bianca’s spinsterhood. Then, one day, she went into the Banco d’Italia to deposit the rents. While waiting on line clutching her bank book in one hand and her big black pocketbook in the other, a man standing in front of her turned around, bowed and said, "Per piacere, Signora, - please, Madam, take my place."

What a polite, high-class looking man! thought Luisa. Without hesitation, she engaged him in light conversation - conveniently dropping the fact that she had a beautiful unmarried daughter at home. When they were through with their business in the bank, she invited him for "a caffe".

The young man was not so young - he was in his early 30’s, and, to Luisa’s delight, was very interested in finding a wife. He was slightly pudgy, had a prominent nose, but kind eyes which peered out from thick-lensed eyeglasses. His demeanor was marked with timidity and kindness. He told Luisa he was a business man, and had a very nice office on Metropolitan Avenue. Luisa’s eyes widened, and seeing her interest, he invited her to see his office. She did, and what she saw was one of three cubicles in a large space with a desk and two chairs. On the desk was a nameplate that read: Vincenzo DeFilipe, Notary Public, Insurance, Real Estate, Bookkeeping, Taxes and Translations.

What a nice refined man, Luisa kept thinking, and so well off with his own business - and so respectable! She couldn’t wait to invite him home.

When Vincenzo finally got to meet Bianca, he almost fainted with joy, and after his second visit, asked Luisa for Bianca’s hand in marriage. Each time he visited, he would bring Bianca a one-pound box of Torrone, and for Luisa, he would bring a pineapple cheese cake to have with the strong demi-tasse she always served him.

Bianca was torn. She did want to get married, was impressed with Vincenzo’s status and knew he would be a good provider. But, she kept putting him off. When Luisa pressed her, she started to cry and said, But Mama, he’s so ugly, and he has such a big nose, and he’s shorter than me.

All this was true. He was not the knight in shining armor about whom Bianca had been fantasizing for eight years. Luisa persisted.

"I KNOW WHAT’S GOOD FOR YOU. YOU DO WHAT I SAY! You want end up the old maid? You no know how lucky you be to find a man like him! Now, go fix-a you face - he gonna be here soon. AND STOPPA TO CRY!! He make-a you eyes all red. And use-a non troppo..no so mucha powder!!!"

The following week, Vincenzo - or Jimmy, as everyone began to call him - presented Bianca with a bulky looking decorative silver ring with a small diamond in the middle which he had bought at the Wholesale Jewelry Center in the Bowery. Luisa lied to whomever looked at Bianca’s engagement ring that it was an heirloom handed down by Jimmy’s great-great grandfather, Giancarlo DeFilipe the First, Duke of Milano. No one believed her.

When Bianca went to bed, she would take the ring off and place it in her drawer of the bureau under her handkerchiefs - which were all embroidered on one point with tiny little pink x’s that formed two roses. Little did she know that within a very short time, both the ring and her handkerchiefs would disappear thanks to her younger brother, Paul.

The wedding took place some time late in 1916. After the wedding, Bianca packed her dresses, shoes, silk stockings, corset, underwear and a brand new satin ivory-colored nightgown for her wedding night into a hard cardboard valise that had accompanied Luisa from Italy. It had two sturdy straps holding it together, and Luisa had already crocheted onto a stiff piece of buckrum the initials, B.DeF. to hang from one of the straps.

After the wedding, Jimmy escorted her to a modest two-bedroom walkup he had rented on Richardson Street in Greenpoint - which was a pleasant change from the tenement on Lorimer Street which the family occupied. Also, it had a large kitchen which was very important to Bianca, because she loved to eat, and seeing it, she smiled for the first time in many weeks.

The next time she smiled was one year later when her infant daughter, Grace, was placed in her arms by the midwife. This time, Jimmy did faint with joy when he saw the infant - she looked just like him!

Bianca wanted many children, but had difficulty becoming pregnant. It took another ten years before she was to conceive again. This time, it was a boy, Frederick. After that, she was never able to have any more children.

Grace was treated like royalty by Nonna Luisa. This treatment conferred upon her was in stark contrast to the treatment Luisa would accord to her other grandchildren. In addition to ignoring them, she constantly complained whenever they cried or whimpered.

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PAOLO (PAUL) -

JANUARY 26, 1893

T he midwife was in a foul mood. Luisa DeNobili had already given birth to her second child - a daughter - Bianca. But, on this particular day, through the open door of No. 18 Via Victor Emanuel, loud screams could be heard. Carmela, Luisa’s older sister, was running down the cobble-stoned street to be with her. When she ran through the door, she gave the midwife a questioning look. In return, the midwife rolled her eyes upward in disgust. Luisa, spouse of Giuseppe, was taking too long. The midwife ordered, Push, Luisa, push!!

However, Luisa was beyond any movement. She had been in labor 12 hours, and now she felt that her entire body was on fire. She was about to give birth to her third child - but nothing was happening. Three-year old Luigi was sitting on the floor, wide-eyed and frightened at what was going on, sucking on a hard biscotto, but so unaware of the cookie, he was drooling from both sides of his mouth. Each time the fifteen-month old Bianca, who was also on the floor, heard her mother’s shrieks, she matched them with her own.

This opera between mother and daughter caused the midwife to throw up her arms, look at the ceiling and shout, "Madonna mia, what am I doing here?!! She mumbled some appropriate profanities, shoved Luigi out of the room and stuck a wedge of an orange into the mouth of the bawling Bianca. She then approached the writhing mother-to-be again, put her hands on her hips, looked down at Luisa and, in disgust, said, It’s breach!

She placed one hand on Luisa’s belly and inserted the other into her cervix and made an effort to straighten out the infant. After much manipulation and excruciating pain to Luisa, the baby’s head became visible. Push, push! persisted the midwife, but Luisa was so exhausted she could not push it out.

The midwife could not grab the head. It was too far in and too slippery. She went into the kitchen and took two wooden macaroni spoons, inserted one on each side of the head, and with all her strength, began pulling it out while the baby kicked, punched and flailed his arms while still in Luisa’s womb. Soon, the midwife was sweating, cursing and exhausted as she tightened her grip on the wooden spoons and pressed them tighter around the head. Finally, the baby emerged with a frenzied, thrashing movement, ripping his way out of his mother’s body and carrying with him a bloody mass of placenta. When the midwife had him in her arms, he let out a blood-curdling shriek while punching the air and squirming and kicking in her arms.

Luisa drifted away into oblivion as Carmela applied cold, wet rags to her forehead.

"Jesu! É un diablo!" gasped the midwife as she tried to hold on to the slippery infant, shiny with blood, writhing and shrieking as shrilly as his newly functioning lungs would allow.

Thus did my father, Paolo DeNobili, second son of Luisa and Giuseppe, enter the world. And thus would he leave it 92 years later.

When she came to, Luisa didn’t ask to see the baby. All she could do was think of her beloved husband. She shouted, "Quello bestio!!! Animale!! - That beast!! May I die and go to hell if I ever let him come near me again!"

Not only sixteen months later, a fourth child, Thalia, would be born to Luisa and Giuseppe - and after that, five more - each birth followed by the same endearing terms by Luisa swearing to God it would be her last.

A few months after Paolo’s birth, he was still shrieking and howling at the least provocation - if he became chafed from a wet diaper, if he had to wait too long to be picked up when he cried, and most of all, if Luisa didn’t feed him in time - in which case, he would ball up his little fists and pummel her breasts when she brought him close to her.

Luisa confided to the midwife about the behavior of her infant, and the midwife replied, "Well, I think maybe…could be I squeezed the spoons too hard against his head…maybe he came out a little stunato o demente - feeble-minded or demented. But, I save-a you life…no ever forget that. He could still be in you if not for me."

"O! You save-a my life? Some levatrice - midwife - you! Better you say you RUIN my life."

Luisa pointed menacingly at the cringing midwife and then to the door.

OUT! Outta my house. And no ever come back again!

After about a year and a half, Tatina, the same midwife, delivered Thalia, the second daughter.

Meanwhile, Paolino - little Paolo - was growing up. When he wasn’t pulling on his older sister, Bianca’s blonde curls, or decorating her hair with left-over polenta, he would be outside - and, at about the age of four, was physically attacking anyone who was smaller or weaker than he was who might be walking in front of his house.

In those days, in Italy, little boys usually wore dresses. Paolino’s favorite was a little red dress with small black polka dots - which he insisted on wearing every day until it was so streaked with dirt the color was hardly visible. He would then insist that Luisa take out the washboard and wash it right away so he could wear it the next day. Luisa did this - just to keep him quiet. And also, so that he wouldn’t kick her in the ankles.

Paolino had a favorite pastime. In the morning, he would run around in the street, kicking over the milk cans in front of people’s doors and then splashing and jumping up and down in the spilled milk. When he was finally caught at it, Luisa would give him a sound beating, and from then on, he was known in the neighborhood as Il Piccolo Diablo Rosso - The Little Red Devil.

Let it be known that when Paolino’s uncontrollable rage was not aroused, according to Luisa, he was a good boy. While growing up, when he was happy, he would sing little songs Luisa taught him and dance around the kitchen with a broom - and, when he got the chance, playfully hit Bianca on the head with the straw part - which always made her cry because the broom was dirty, and bits of dirt would become stuck within her immaculately groomed blond curls. Unfortunately, his tantrums and bad behavior cast a dark shadow over his good deeds - which