I passed by the tower in the Via Portoghese to-day, and observed that the
nearest shop appears to be for the sale of cotton or linen cloth. . . . .
The upper window of the tower was half open; of course, like all or
almost all other Roman windows, it is divided vertically, and each half
swings back on hinges. . . . .
Last week a fritter-establishment was opened in our piazza. It was a
wooden booth erected in the open square, and covered with canvas painted
red, which looked as if it had withstood much rain and sunshine. In
front were three great boughs of laurel, not so much for shade, I think,
as ornament. There were two men, and their apparatus for business was a
sort of stove, or charcoal furnace, and a frying-pan to place over it;
they had an armful or two of dry sticks, some flour, and I suppose oil,
and this seemed to be all. It was Friday, and Lent besides, and possibly
there was some other peculiar propriety in the consumption of fritters
just then. At all events, their fire burned merrily from morning till
night, and pretty late into the evening, and they had a fine run of
custom; the commodity being simply dough, cut into squares or rhomboids,
and thrown into the boiling oil, which quickly turned them to a light
brown color.
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