By Preference He Speaks
French, And His Favourite Subject Is Paris.
One observes in him
something like disdain for his own country, which in his mind is
associated only with falling fortunes and loss of self-respect.
The
cordial Italian note never sounds in his talk. The signora (also a
little ashamed of her own language) excites herself about taxation
- as well she may - and dwells with doleful vivacity on family
troubles. Both are astonished at my eccentricity and hardiness in
undertaking a solitary journey through the wild South. Their
geographical notions are vague; they have barely heard of Cosenza or
of Cotrone, and of Paola not at all; it would as soon occur to them
to set out for Morocco as for Calabria. How shall I get along with
people whose language is a barbarous dialect? Am I aware that the
country is in great part pestilential? - la febbre! Has no one
informed me that in autumn snows descend, and bury everything for
months? It is useless to explain that I only intend to visit places
easily accessible, that I shall travel mostly by railway, and that
if disagreeable weather sets in I shall quickly return northwards.
They look at me dubiously, and ask themselves (I am sure) whether I
have not some more tangible motive than a lover of classical
antiquity. It ends with a compliment to the enterprising spirit of
the English race.
I have purchases to make, business to settle, and I must go hither
and thither about the town.
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