Such a responsive well as this might have been taken for an oracle in old
days.
We went along paths that led from one vineyard to another, and which
might have led us for miles across the country. The grapes had been
partly gathered, but still there were many purple or white clusters
hanging heavily on the vines. We passed cottage doors, and saw groups of
contadini and contadine in their festal attire, and they saluted us
graciously; but it was observable that one of the men generally lingered
on our track to see that no grapes were stolen, for there were a good
many young people and children in our train, not only our own, but some
from a neighboring villa. These Italian peasants are a kindly race, but,
I doubt, not very hospitable of grape or fig.
There was a beautiful sunset, and by the time we reached the house again
the comet was already visible amid the unextinguished glow of daylight.
A Mr. and Mrs. B------, Scotch people from the next villa, had come to
see the Storys, and we sat till tea-time reading, talking, William Story
drawing caricatures for his children's amusement and ours, and all of us
sometimes getting up to look at the comet, which blazed brighter and
brighter till it went down into the mists of the horizon.
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