. Gondola days, by F. Hopkinson Smith; . o closely drawn tenda. Thereis no warning sound to the unwary; only thegurgle of a slowly-moving oar, then the muz-zle of a breech-loader thrust in ones eyes,behind which frowns an ugly, determinedface, peering from out the folds of a heavyboat-cloak. It is the deputys way of askingfor smuggled cigarettes, but it is so convin-cing a way as to admit of no discussion. Everafterward the unfortunate victim, if he be ofhonest intent, cannot only detect a police-boat from a fishing yawl, but remembers alsoto keep a light burning in his lamp-socketforward, as
. Gondola days, by F. Hopkinson Smith; . o closely drawn tenda. Thereis no warning sound to the unwary; only thegurgle of a slowly-moving oar, then the muz-zle of a breech-loader thrust in ones eyes,behind which frowns an ugly, determinedface, peering from out the folds of a heavyboat-cloak. It is the deputys way of askingfor smuggled cigarettes, but it is so convin-cing a way as to admit of no discussion. Everafterward the unfortunate victim, if he be ofhonest intent, cannot only detect a police-boat from a fishing yawl, but remembers alsoto keep a light burning in his lamp-socketforward, as evidence of his honesty. When the cargoes of the market boats areinspected, the duties paid, and the passagemade under Ponte Paglia, or through themany nameless canals if the approach is madefrom the Campo Santo side of the city, theboats swarm up to the fruit market above theRialto, rounding up one after another, anddischarging their contents like trucks at astation, the men piling the baskets in greatmounds on the broad stone After the inhabitants have pounced upon Open- AirMarkets these heaps and mounds and pyramids of^^^ baskets and crates, and have carried themaway, the market is swept and scoured asclean as a china plate, not even a peach-pitbeing left to tell the tale of the this greater market shrinks into thesmaller one, the little fruit market of theRialto, which is never closed, day or night. This little market, or, rather, the broadstreet forming its area, —broad for this partof Venice, — is always piled high with theproducts of orchard, vineyard, and garden,shaded all day by huge awnings, so closelystretched that only the sharpest and mostlance-like of sunbeams can cut their way intothe coolness below. At night the market islighted by flaring torches illumining thewhole surrounding campo. As for the other smaller stands and shopsabout the city, they are no less permanentfixtures, and keep equally bad hours. Nomatter how late you stroll do
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Keywords: ., bo, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890, bookidgondoladaysbyfho00smit
