The Argosy — page 255: what you’re looking at

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

238 In Sunny Chimes. q guide informed us, called ladies’ fingers. These grapes are for the wine press, not for eating. In the midst of the vineyard was a deep well, in which, far, far down, one saw one’s reflection. It looked so cool and inviting that one almost felt inclined to plunge in, and, like Narcissus, falling in love with one’s reflection, disappear for ever, and begin existence afresh in some ‘cool grot and mossy cell” under those sleeping waters. We thought better of it, and remained above ground. It was quite charming enough to tempt one to do so. This won- derful atmosphere, this golden glamour that sat upon all, intoxicated one with a dreamy, voluptuous sensation. It was all so different from the blue skies and blue waters of the Mediterranean; so delicious to wander about the terraces amidst the fragrant grapes. They had not — all been plucked, and what remained were at our disposal. If an especial bunch tempted one, we had but to put forth a hand and | gather it. It was singular, too, to hear our guide discoursing in fluent English, and somehow seemed as out of place here, in this remote part of Italy, as a vineyard would look in St. Paul’s Churchyard. ¢ It was equally curious and unromantic to hear her declare that she | preferred the prosiest and most crowded streets of London to the loveliest vineyards, the most gorgeous sunsets Italy could boast, From the higher ground we could see the harbour, and the blue © waters of the Adriatic shimmering in the distance—waters that were _ to know us no more. ' We went back tothe town. Time was passing; the afternoon shadows were beginning to lengthen. We had a long night-journey ~— before us, and it was necessary to fortify ourselves for the ordeal. 4 For in Italy, and especially out of the ordinary beaten tracks, ‘1 these night-journeys are to be avoided. It is not travelling made easy. Sleeping cars, fauteuils-lits, coupés—these luxuries are com spicuous by their absence. You must be content with ordinary — carriages, and think yourself fortunate if by chance you find one in part empty. 4 We were lucky enough in finding one altogether so. Nevertheless, © it was a2 most tedious journey. ‘The cushions were hard, the train | rattled and rumbled and jolted. Whether it is the ordinary habit oi the trains to do this or whether the carriages were badly screwed up |” on this occasion, deponent sayeth not, for he does not know. The effect was the same. “A Scotchman would have roused up the next | morning with a ‘‘sore head ;” we, being English, called it a head- | ache, but of that splitting sort which, sem sparks and flashes ey lightning in the atmosphere. Mauleverer, on the other hand, | belongs to that irritating genus who would go through a century of fatigue and smile serenely at the end of it. Once, up in the wilds of H the land, for a whole fortnight he shot for ten hours a-day over hill — and moor, and would have gone on for several weeks longer, had not | } his companions given in and ‘sone South,” very much the worse for Gomicdooks.com , 4