The New Orleans bulletin. [volume] (New Orleans [La.]) 1874-1876, 1875-12-26

| plantations of the gondolier, who kindly told
| us the name of every church and palace as we
passed them. We could have dispensed with
his assistance, as we had complete list OIL
them in our book, but it was much nicer TO
| float idly on and let him tell us all this, than
to bother with studying it out in the book.
We liked Venice decidedly better than we
did as we first saw it on the morning OF our
arrival. and were beginning to feel that 1t was
romantic place after all. But then the scene
was different and the circumstances INFINITELY
more agreeable. That morning we were
tired, sleepy and out of humor, there were no
nice people astir so early, so that we saw noun
inc Init scows and market boats; the tide was
ont and the air had an unpleasant odor OF
rank weeds and fish in fact, the circumstances
were as unfavorable as could be; but now we
were in the broadcast and finest part OF the
canal, the air was fine and fresh from
the sea, the heavens glowed with all the glo-
ries Of summer sunset, the water was
crowded with elegant gondolas filled with well
dressed people, and propelled by neatly
clothed gondoliers, who made their light crafts
fly through the water; there were graceful
steamers lying at anchor in the otfing with
penons gaily flying, and one or two with
music playing; there was life and beauty
everywhere, and we felt delightfully."- indolent
and happy. Then at dusk we landed and re-
paired to the great square again, now covered
with chairs and tables, and thronging with
people, and there until after 10 we sat eating
Italian ices staring a. the crowd and listen
ing to fine military music, after which we
6 rolled back to the waterside and found our
selves upon scene of magic beauty, for the
moon had risen, and before our eyes lay the
Venice of romance and dream.
It was too beautiful to describe. The
shores were Lit with millions of gaslights and
teeming with people, while the water, ripping
gently in the glorious moonlight, presented
such scene of animation and picturesque
loneliness as surpasses the power OF words to
portray. The long boats, SO strange OF form
and dark of hue, were seen to dart swiftly by,
their fair passengers, clad in cleaning white
laughing and chatting with true Venetian
sprightliness, their gondoliers, dressed in
picturesque sailors garb, bending with meas
ured stroke to their oars, the gilded carving
of the boat glancing as it flashed by every
light: others in the distance, coming and
going like silent figures of dream, now
crossing for moment the long, bright path
of the moonbeams on the waves, then vanish
ing in the dusky night beyond; it was also true
to the pictures Of Venice, and 80 unlike any
thing real we had ever seen before, that we
could scarce credit our waking senses.
Then we walked along the great quay until
we came opposite the Bridge of Signs, for we
wished to see it by moonlight, and we saw it
lust as in the widest dreams of romance.
glistening white and spectral in the pale
moonlight, while the dark and narrow canal
beneath it was as gloomy in shadow and as
silent as ever on those nights when the bodies
of strangled mobiles were lowered into its
fatal bosom; and there we're dark boats Gid
ing in and out like shadows, just as in the
mysterious tales of the olden time. 1t was
all so true to the pictures that we were en-
ehanted. Thus we saw Venice by the friendly
light Of the moon, in all her poetic beauty,
and il is vision we shall long cherish in the
brightest chambers of memory. Yours,
STAHLFEDER.