Fort Worth daily gazette. (Fort Worth, Tex.) 1882-1891, 1890-09-21
TEXAS GIRL ABROAD
A Trip by Steamer on Lake Como,
in Italy'S Sunny Cline.
The Lake, the Vessels. the People and
the Beautiful Scenery Reflected on
Paper by Close Observer.
Every italian District Has its Own Peculiar
Manufactures-0ne of the Character
istics of Tourists Fancy.

LAKE Como, July l.-What is more
delicious than the first sunny day after
three days of rain?
That is what this day is.
And what is lovlier than pale, blue
green sheet of water closed in by steep
mountains?
That is what Lake Como is.
We are on the steamer at Colico on the
northern end of the lake, waiting for
the steamer to turn around and take us
back to our abiding place at Cadenahbia.
Our lower deck is being scrubbed by
bare-footed sailors, and 1 am momen-
tarIly expecting TO have to tuck up my
feet while the upper deck takes bath.
Beside us is one of these square sailed
boats that add such quaint feature to
the lake. The square, oblong sail,
stretched by poles at the ends, is fastened
simply top and bottom to the mast. The
body OF the boat is covered over with
canvas stretched on hoops, like an
emigrant wagon. Colico is just row Of
stupid houses, but Colico looks off on to
something worth seeing. Irregular
hills of many freaks, vineyards and olive
groves sloping up to bare, rocky crests,
seem to shut off this round end of the
lake from the rest of the long, winding
sheet of water. So bright is The color of
the water as l look at il now, it is like
robin s egg in nest of green. AT the
north the mountains part TO form
A GATE INTO SWITZERLAND,
into that wonderful valley of the Inga-
dire. They seem very grand 10 me,
those mountains to the north, with their
highest rocky pinnacles jutting up from
! nj m
Switzerland l cannot afford to waste any
adjectives on mountains only 1000 feet
high.
After trying to jam the whole city of
Milan into a day and ehalf, picture
gallery, cathedral and all; (and that
cathedral is a most unmanageable piece
OF sight seeing that will not be put into
less than a days time) after all the
noise and heat which were especially
noticeable after peaceful Venice, we
awoke one morning to look at each other
and sigh with satisfaction. We were on
Lake Como with only few days to re-
main and the rain was falling in sheets.
Do you understand the signs of satisfac-
ton? Here, after ten weeks of steady
sight seeing, we were in place where
there was nothing to see, not n church,
nor a ruin, nor an art gallery; not even
scenery, for here was blessed rain. But
hold! "There's the villa Carlotta, -
suggested feebly :"Shut the baedecker!
said my mother in italics. land a
double starred Thorwaldsen u "Blot
it out!'' said my mother, in long
primer. But there was much to see
that Sunday after all; it was not dull
pour and q solid sky, but wonderful
KALEIDOSCOPE DAY
of sun and storm, of wind and rain, and
soft piles of cloud that were ever floating
into new and loveller combinations with
the mountains. What a grand game it
was the clouds played with the hills!
Over and around them they swept; now
trailing long gray skirts of mist over the
velvet green of vineyard slopes; now
breaking themselves upon the sharp,
rock pointed peaks into dozens of dainty
scraps of cloud that hoated as lightly
and aaily as if they had not the slightest
notion of e. clouds serious business in
life, l. e., raining. Slowly they would
drift, like thistle-dowu, to the level of
the lake, and there unite, as if in some
gay freak they would play being solid
land and let the hills float above them as
clouds Then the bright break in the
sky would close; a low grumble of
thunder, and another cloud, very black
and serious, would rush over from be-
hind the mountains to fall
IN A CURTAIN OF RAIN.
We were not a bit weary of those three
days of rain. Oh, the hurry of wasting
time, of reading over old letters till new
ones came, of having an opportunity to
get homesick! Perhaps you cannot real
ize the bliss of being homesick, but
when you have not had chance to think
of your native land in three months, 1t
may be considered q privilege to have
time to be homesick.
Now our steamer has started back
down the lake, and we are going from
side to side of the narrow, winding
water, bringing mail and passengers to
all the little villages on the mountain
sides. We saw exactly this scenery, of
course, as we came up this morning, but
how different it all is now in the after
noon light? 1t is less clear and bright;
more misty and wonderful; the crowd of
snow-patched peaks at the north Is soft
and dreamy, and feathery punches of
clouds are resting lightly on the highest
points, Near by the water is q clear
green; but afar it turns to a band of
dark, purplish blue. Every now and
then between the trees. far up on the
heights, or near the lake, we see the
white slime of a cascade. When we first
came on the lake from the town of Como
thought it was
NOT HALF so LOVELY
as the Scottish lakes. because of the
many villages, and the huge, hideous
hotels and pensions on its banks. Pen
sions and hotels are enough to spoil
Paradise as to scenery, and so are
Italian villas. Ny romantic ideal of
villa on Lake Como, drawn from novels
aud stage scenery, has been utterly
crushed The sole ideal of an Italian
architect seems TO be the dry goods box,
but at least he might paint his boxes in
soft, negative tints instead of staring
whites and yellows. In Great Britain
houses are made TO look subordinate to
and in harmony with the scenery and not
like impertinent intruders. There are
no houses on the Scotch lakes, and 1
hope there never will be. They possess
that intangible charm of utter loneli-
ness; they are so fresh, so exquisite, SO
wild, yet so daintly finished in delicate
moses and grasses-you almost bold
your breath TO look on snoh pristine love-
illness. Como-well Como is Italian. II
is equal to several Loeb Katrines. in ex-
riaty N ha