The Argosy — page 119: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE ARGosv. Christinas Eve in Rome. 105 We had a pleasant voyage ; that is, all of us who were good sailors. The sea was so calm as to make any malaise a disgrace. Nevertheless, my father declared himself uncomfortable, and left aunt Lucy and me pacing the deck under the moonlight before ten o'clock, which we thought very stupid and prosaic of him! By that time the deck was strewn with recumbent forms, or rather formless masses of wrappers and rugs, the only human sign about which consisted in occasional snorts and grunts, or a restless movement, that showed the owner of the rugs was dreaming uneasily of his recent , struggles with the Leghorn boatmen, or the rush he made to secure a place at the first dinner with the passengers from Genoa. At last aunt Lucy and I had to succumb to tired eyes and weary limbs, and went below, to sleep on our respective shelves in the ladies’ cabin. We were both very excited at the prospect of seeing ;Rome the next day, for the first time, and my head was so full of schemes and imaginings, that I slept very little. There was a small round window close to my shelf, and as I lay I could see the heaving line of water, and the moon. She grew large and red, and sank below the horizon, just as T closed my eyes and fell asleep. A golden morning, cold and clear, found us at Civita Vecchia, and somewhat consoled us for the weary time of waiting while our luggage, after it had been with difficulty got out of the hold and recognized, was sent on shore and examined at the Custom-house. Myaunt and I stayed in the dreary coffee-room of the dreary hotel, while my father had his patience and temper tried at the Bureau. Our own trials seemed light, however, compared with the fate of a lady fellow-passenger, who was waiting in equal weariness for the return of her husband. .Her medita- tions, poor thing! were rudely broken by the appearance of an official, dragging in his arms a ball-dress belonging to her, which had just been decreed seditious and suspicious by the authorities at the Custom-house, because, forsooth, it was white, trimmed with red fuchsias and green leaves and nbbon,—a conjunction of the Italian tri-color very culpable, and highly suggestive of treason and Garibaldi ! Poor lady! We left her lamenting over her damaged dress, despoiled of its ornaments, and otherwise decorated with dust from the streets of Civita Vecchia, through which it had been ignominiously borne ! The transit from Civita Vecchia is slow, and the country uninteresting and sad. We were full of anticipation, however, and I grew breathless with excitement as each mile brought us nearer to Rome. _ The entrance, at last, was rather damping, certainly, and the drive from the pen-like station gave one no favourable impression of the grand old city. We had secured lodgings in the Piazza di Spagna, through the good offices of my cousin Charles, who was then, as now, resident in Rome. He had written to tell us of them, and to regret that he should be so ECOMicoOolkxs.cO©