The Arkansaw traveler., 1888-03-03
Naples Snow Harvest.
Youths Companion,

1outh's Companion.
 In the southern part of the United States, ice and ices, though used in large quantities in summer, are con- sidered luxuries, but in the countries of southern Europe, and particularly in Naples and Sicily, they are classed among the necessities of life, and are used, in some shape or other, by the poorest classes. During the burning heats of July, August and September, when the temperature is very high in the coolest part of the city, even the meanest of the lazzaroni will turn with loathing from his favorite draught if he has nothing with which to cool it. But give him lump of pure, sparkling, congealed snow to dissolve in the glass and it becomes nectar
 We speak of ice and ices because that ice is the material used by us for cooling; but in Naples, except among the wealthy classes and in the larger hotels, it is not ice at all, but snow, that is employed, and the quantity of it consumed is something prodigious. On the plains of southern Italy, even in the coldest winter, ice is unknown and snow never falls. But in the Apenine range of mountains, which runs through the peninsula, there are exhaustless stores of the precious substance.
 A few of the lofty peaks have snow on them all the year, and on one, Il Gran Sasso dItalia (the Great Rock of Italy), there is glacier. But, as general thing, the snow disappears from the ridges by the end of May, consequently the people make great efforts to store it away and preserve it for the time of need. For this pur- pose deep and wide snow wells or cav erns are dug on the mountain side, and in February, which is generally the time the snow is frozen hardest, before the spring sun has begun to soften the surface, the people-men, women and children-of the village turn out and camp on the mountain side.
 They cut out the pearly substance in broad, thick, white layers, and pack it into the wells. The blocks are tightly pressed together till they form one compact mass. Then, when the cavern is filled almost to the top, it is covered with mating, and upon that, with straw, dried leaves and branches of trees, to keep the air out. The mouth of the cavern is then closed up. Sometimes there is over the mouth a rude stone building.
 If advantage be taken of the natural features of the mountain, such as clumps of thick trees, which in the summer will shade the spot, or deep clefts in the rocks where the sun does not penetrate, these caverns may be often placed as low down as the snow line. This is, of course, great ad- vantage, as the nearer to market the depot of supplies can be made, the less the cost of transportation.
 When the snow does fail in any con- siderable quantity on the lower and inhabited ridges of the mountains, it is the occasion of joy and festivity on the part of the peasants, who flock from all sides to gather and deposit it in a safe snow cave. The immense caverns with which the mountain is honey -combed are filled with an enor- nous quantity of the frozen substance, but it rapidly disappears before the army of workmen who, with iron spikes and shovels, dig into it and break it up much after the manner of the miners in salt mines.
 The work of getting the snow out and transporting it to the city is, ow- ing to the intense heat of the day, necessarily performed in the night. Long strings of mules ascend the mountain to the snow caves. There they are loaded with boxes filled with the glittering blocks, and covered with tarpaulin to keep out the air. Then, rapidly as they can be driven down the steep path, they are made to descend to the wharf of Castellamare, where large, roomy boats stand ready to receive the loads. As soon as the perishable cargo is shipped, it is cov- cred with mating, leaves and tarpau- lin, and the little fleet of eight or ten boats, lowed by steamer, set off for Naples.
 The time of departure is from mid- morning. During the summer nights, at the town of Castellamare, the trampling of mules from the moun- tains, the cries and songs of the muleteers, the putting of of the snow- boats and the shouts of the marines are never ceasing, and echo far across the bay.