Gloucester County Democrat. (Woodbury, N.J.) 1878-1932, 1882-09-07
A STORY OF VENICE.

Some twelve years ago was staying
IN Venice 1t had been the dream of
my boyhood to visit the city, and the
scenes of those striking events in his
tory and romance I had read so often.
The Doge's palace and the church of
st. Marks had been familiar to me
from my earliest recollections, from
paintings and pictures to be found
everywhere and now / saw the
glorious reality though perhaps at
first I was rather disappointed, because
it did not quite reach the height of my
imagination.
+ To the English reader especially
Venice must have unutterable charms.
For has not Shakespeare invested it
with brighter halo of romance than
even the brightest page Of history could
give it? When we hear the name of
Venice do we not rather think of the
Venice of Shylock, of Antonio, of
Othello, than the city of Barbarossa, of
Henry Dandolo, or ofFrancis Foscari :?
On my first arrival ] went, according
to the custom of Englishmen, to see
everything at once and was soon able
to say with truth that 1 had stood in
Venice on the B fridge of Sighs'
But soon found out that there was
nothing to be gained by being in such
a hurry that it was much better to
take things in quiet sort of way, as 1
had plenty of time to see the place en-
joyably. Besides, it is no joke going
sightseeing in summertime at Venice;
the heat is so great that it makes one
in a perspiration even to think of
moving.
The evening was the best part of the
day. AS the heat of the suns rays
began sensibly to decline, the people
came out, and gondolas fitted back
ward and forward, bearing freights
of all kinds old, stately-looking men
and women, with grave, dignif1ed faces,
making one think that they had stepped
out of their frames in the adjoining
palaces; laughing, dark-eyed signorinas,
as careless and lighthearted as if the
Austrians had never set foot in their
city; English people and other foreign
ers, and now and again the white uni
form of an Austrian officer all intent
on one object-en enjoyment, and feeling
relieved to be once more free from the
rays of the scorching sun, and refreshed
by the cool deliciousness of midsum-
mer twilight. Truly the Austrian rule
had not been able to extinguish all
feelings Of joy in the Venetians, changed
though they may be from their ancient
renown
I hired gondola for my own use,
and, lying lazily on the cushions
smoking my cigar, made my gondolier
sing to me italian songs, which he as
sured me were from Ariosto. As /
could not prove the contrary, I was
bound to believe him, though they
might have been his own words for
ought knew
Well, one evening | had come out as
usual. and my gondolier had taken me
down quiet street leading from the
Grand canal, but whose name forget.
i sat looking at the grand old palaces
each side of me-their beauty more
than ever apparent in the light Of the
moon, which was just rising and
looking up to their silent windows
thought that from just such another,
or perhaps from the same, the pretty
Jessica might have stolen to her lover;
and could not help bemoaning that
the race was extinct, that elopements
had gone out Of fashion, and that there
was no chance now Of meeting pretty
girls bringing their own dover in
ready money with them, when my at
tention was directed to the figure of a
woman on the balcony Of a house we
were close upon Directly she saw me
she leant forward little, threw let
ter into the boat and Immediately af-
terward disappeared.