Italy from the Alps to Mount Etna . t the first still caps him, and screams out, E hi nfiernu cu tutli lidiavoli ! (It is the infernal regions with all the devils in it!) Upon this, his rival lays down melon and knife, sticks his arms a-kimbo, and says, ina kind of envious surprise, Bidimmo mb chc cci hai da dicere cchiii ! (Well, lets hearwhat youve got to say next /) And then the war begins all over again. In the same fashion shout and scream the Pizzajiiolo (sausage-seller), the vendor ofonion cakes, and the greasy woman who sells wafers made of maize-flour. Caure, caure,scagliuozzolc! Qiia
Italy from the Alps to Mount Etna . t the first still caps him, and screams out, E hi nfiernu cu tutli lidiavoli ! (It is the infernal regions with all the devils in it!) Upon this, his rival lays down melon and knife, sticks his arms a-kimbo, and says, ina kind of envious surprise, Bidimmo mb chc cci hai da dicere cchiii ! (Well, lets hearwhat youve got to say next /) And then the war begins all over again. In the same fashion shout and scream the Pizzajiiolo (sausage-seller), the vendor ofonion cakes, and the greasy woman who sells wafers made of maize-flour. Caure, caure,scagliuozzolc! Qiiatto nu suold! (Hot, hot, maize-flour cakes! Four for a soldo!)The orange-seller rattles by with his wheelbarrow, and his cry rises above the roofs, THE EVER YOUNG PARTHENOPE. 381 Pportovalle de Palermo ! Scialatc, scialate, ca mo e hi tiempu, scialatc ! (Oranges ofPalermo ! Feast, feast, for now is your time ; feast!) His voice is half drowned by theshrill tones of the ragged woman with maize dumplings boiled or fried : Polanchelle. IN FRONT OF A BAKERS OVEN IN NAPLES. tcncrcllc caude e belle! E ce hi laltel cu hi tutoro doro! Polanchelle ! (Little chickens,tender, warm, and beautiful! Full of milk and golden yolk of egg! Little chickens!) Chi vo vcvere ? chi vo vevere ? yells the vendor of sulphur water in our ears. Acqiiazur/egna fridda, fridda, uh cume la taigo anncvata I (Who will drink ? Who willdrink ? Sulphur water, cold, cold, oh how cool I keep it with snow !) il Mmpagha segge ! screams the maker of straw chairs. Mmpaglia segge!} from ITALY. house to house. Facchini with huge loads piled high on their heads push their waythrough the crowd, and give out their warning cry, A name, guarda, a natize ! (Infront there ! Look out in front there!) There are the shouts of the coachmen, thedonkey drivers, the seller of milk who drives his cow before him from house to house ofhis customers. Everywhere, in whatever direction you turn your head, you hear prices being roared out; ci
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Keywords: ., bookauthorcavagnasangiulianidig, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1870
