Hume would take up in mocking him.
He'd call him a curbstone fiddler, and say that he ought to be playing
at barn dances and Italian christenings instead of aspiring to the
platform. Spatola would get frantic with rage, and fairly scream his
resentment at these times.
"Often Mr. Hume would have him bring his trained cockatoos. And while
he was making them go through their tricks, Mr. Hume would call him a
mountebank, a side show fakir and other things, and tell him that he
ought to stick to that as a business, for he could make a living at
it, where he would starve as a violinist. I've often seen Antonio go
out trembling and white at the lips with rage. Several times he's
tried to injure Mr. Hume--once he took out a knife."
"Hah!" said the coroner.
"That was the time Mr. Hume called him 'Mad Anthony.' I also remember
that Mr. Hume pulled aside the curtain and showed him the large
painting of General Wayne, laughing and telling him that that was
another Mad Anthony. He was so successful that day in arousing
Spatola, that always after that, when he was drunk, he'd call the
Italian 'Mad Anthony' and it never failed to infuriate him.
"Do you know where this man Spatola lives?"
"In Christie Place, sir; just about half a dozen doors from the store.
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