Free A Bell for Adano by John Hersey

is a thirst in Adano. Since yesterday morning at eleven o’clock there is a great thirst. Carmelina who is the wife of the lazy Fatta says that her daughter will die of the thirst. It is all because of the bridge... and the carts... and the -”
    Erba, like the town, had run dry. He turned to his friends. One of them said: “Erba, the proclamation, the matter of being clean.”
    Erba said: “Oh yes, the proclamation. In one proclamation, Mister Major, I forget the number of the proclamation, there are so many, does the number matter, Mister Major?”
    “No, Erba. I am sorry, there are too many proclamations.” And the Major turned to Erba’s friends, who were a little more intelligent and would understand. “That is the fault of the authorities. I did not wish to post so many proclamations. That is not my fault. I am sorry. The number does not matter, Erba.”
    Erba said: “The number does not matter. The proclamation says it is necessary to be clean. It says the people must be clean with water, and even the streets must be clean. Our streets, which have been the same since the time of - who was it the time of, Afronti?”
    Afronti roared: “Since the time of Pietro of Aragona and of Roberto King of Naples.”
    Erba said: “The streets have been the same. Now the proclamation speaks of being clean with water. There is much sameness which has accumulated on the streets since the time of those men of whom Afronti speaks. This being clean takes much water. My cart is on the other side of the bridge, Mister Major
    Major Joppolo said: “The cleanliness is very important, Erba. Let us make Adano the cleanest town in the whole province of Vicinamare.”
    Erba caught the challenge. His eye brightened. “We will do this thing, even if the sameness has piled up since the time of Jesus, Mister Major.” Then his eye went dull again. “But my cart is on the other side of the bridge. You have said it may not pass.”
    The Major said: “Let the next one speak. You. Your name.” And he pointed at the third man with his pen. Erba said: “Thank you, Mister Major.”
    The third man jumped up. He was quite fat but comparatively handsome. His hair was plastered down with something off the axle of his cart, and his black coat was the newest looking of the four. “Basile Giovanni, Mister Major,” he said.
    “You wish?”
    Basile spoke gravely and slowly. “Mister Major,” he said, “the worst of all the things about the carts is the food. You can see, Mister Major” - and he ran his hands down over the size of his belly - “that I am a man who can speak of food with understanding. This matter of the carts does not hurt me. I am like a man with money in the bank, I have something to draw on in hard times. But there are others in Adano who are not so lucky. Galioto Bartolomeo is so thin that you can count the several teeth of his mouth even when his lips are closed. The nine children of Raffaela who is the wife of Manetto have big bellies, but their bellies are big only with the gas of hunger. Shall I name others who are very thin?”
    The Major said: “No, go on.”
    Basile said: “I am the one to tell you about the food and the carts. You have not seen my cart, have you, Mister Major?”
    “I may have. I have seen many of them
    Basile said: “I think you would remember my cart. You know how all the carts have pictures painted on the panels of the sides? Scenes of the Saints, scenes of the history of Adano, scenes of the fine accidents we have had in the province of Vicinamare -”
    The Major said: “I tell you it is not necessary to describe these carts. I have seen many of them. I am getting sick of the carts
    Basile said: “But Mister Major, you have not seen my cart. On my cart there are four scenes. They are all from the Holy Word, and they are all concerned with eating. There is the miracle of the loaves and fishes. There is the last supper. There is the widow’s jar which never emptied no matter how much food