. Italian journeys / by Howells ; with one hundred and three illustrations by Joseph in from the vagabondtoot; and after we had dined we went and lay down undersome greenly waving trees beside a field of corn, andheard the plumed and panoplied maize talking to itselfof its kindred in America. It always has a welcome fortourists of our nation where it finds us in Italy; andsometimes its sympathy, expressed in a rustling and clash-ing of its long green blades, or in its strong sweet perfume,has, as already hinted, made me homesick, though I havebeen uniformly unaffected by potato-
. Italian journeys / by Howells ; with one hundred and three illustrations by Joseph in from the vagabondtoot; and after we had dined we went and lay down undersome greenly waving trees beside a field of corn, andheard the plumed and panoplied maize talking to itselfof its kindred in America. It always has a welcome fortourists of our nation where it finds us in Italy; andsometimes its sympathy, expressed in a rustling and clash-ing of its long green blades, or in its strong sweet perfume,has, as already hinted, made me homesick, though I havebeen uniformly unaffected by potato-patches and tobacco-fields. From where we lay beside the cornfield, we could see,through the twinkling leaves and the twinkling atmosphere,the great hills across the lake, taking their afternoon naps,with their clouds drawn like handkerchiefs over theirheads. It was very hot, and the red and purple ooze ofthe unwholesome river below burnt like a witchs was indeed but a fevered joy we snatched from Naturethere; and I am afraid that we got nothing more 256 a Italia n 3 o a r n e c ? Como. Como comfortable from sentiment, when., risings we wandered otfthrough the unguarded fields toward a ruined tower on ahill. It must have been a relic of feudal times, and Icould easily believe it had been the hold of one of thosewicked lords who used to rule in the terror of the peoplebeside peaceful and happy Como. But the life, good orbad, was utterly gone out of it now, and what was left otthe tower was a burden to the sense. A few scrawnyblackberries and other brambles grew out of its fallenstones; harsh, dust-dry mosses painted its weather-wornwalls with their blanched gray and yellow. From its foot,looking out over the valley, we saw the road to the SpliigenPass lying white-hot in the valley ; and while we looked,the diligence appeared, and dashed through the dust thatrose like a flame before. After that it was a relief to strollin dirty byways, past cottages of saffron peasants, a
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900, booksubjectitalyde, bookyear1901
