Bellows Falls times. [volume] (Bellows Falls, Vt.) 1856-1965, 1891-05-14
A FIGHT FOR LIFE.
From Temple Bar.

| am getting rather old, and live more
in the past than in the future, but have
knocked about so much, and met with so
many strange adventures during my life,
that this must be my excuse for the love
| have of every now and then taking up
pen and jotting down some of my rec
objections, when | seem in manner to
live my life over again.
l was always of rowing disposition
and could never rest very long in one
place, so that | have visited most parts
of the habitable globe, leaving home
sometimes at a days notice, intending
to be away for months, and then sud.
denly changing my mind and returning
home again. l hate plans and arrange
ments made long beforehand, and gen
orally act on the spur of the moment.
Although this habit, as the following
story will show, has sometimes placed me
in awkward positions, yet, on the whole,
| am none the worse for my way of pro-
ceeding.
About 20 years ago l suddenly left
London in the height of the season on
one of these unprecedented voyages. |
was weary of the eternal round of Lon
don life, with its dinner parties, dances,
and drums, and so determined to be of
at once, not caring much where so long
as | had a change.
Four days afterward | found myself
seated at the tabled hote of the Croce de
Malta Hotel at Genoa. But here, too, |
was bored, and began to wonder what
brought me. | knew no one in the place,
and, hating sightseeing, what was | to
do ? - ~, ~ ,s ssssas.,
After dinner l lit my cigar and strolled
down to the port, looked at the many
curious and varied craft packed together
in the basin, and watched the picturesque
groups of sailors from all parts of the
world.
While lounging about l came across a
lot of rough looking Italian sailors
dressed in blue jerseys and jelly-bag
scarlet caps. They particularly at
tracted me, for, being bit of an artist,
have an eye for color, so | stood watch
ing them for a minute or two, while they
were talking eagerly together, and |
caught the words of Garibaldi and
Caprera. l said before that | am given
to sudden impulses. One of these now
seized me. Why not go and visit this
hero in his island home? True, 1 did
not know him personally, but | had al
ways heard that he liked Englishmen
anu IcCtlNtu bi1cDl lOSplUdUIy. L was
one of his most ardent admirers, and
here was an opportunity of making his
acquaintance and of seeing his strange
home.
Half an hour before / had no more
thought of Garibaldi than of the man in
the moon, and now | found myself sud-
denly engrossed by the idea, as if visit
to Caprera had been the dream of my
life. But how was it to be managed?
walked up and down for minute or two
thinking, and then determined to speak
to this group of sailors. | am good
Italian scholar, so had no difficulty upon
that score, although sailors patois is
rather different from the language used
in polite society.
L approached the group, and address
ing myself to a tall, brOadshouldered
fellow with long, shaggy black beard,
| asked him if he knew of any ship sail
ing for Caprera and willing to take a
passenger.
Italians are a very inquisitive race,
and the fact that |, stranger, had
spoken to one of them, brought all the
group, who had dispersed, close to-
gether, to hear what had to say.
The man had addressed, after look
ing at me and then at his companions,
said, "Ah, signore, it will be difficult
matter to find ship going to Caprera,
for there is but little trade with the
island, and it is rather out of the way for
coasting vessels | am only common
sailor, but here is Bartolo; he is the
owner of felucca which trades between
Genoa and Leghorn; he may perhaps be
able to tell the signore what he asks.
Eli, Bartolo. what do you say?
Bartolo. thus addressed, came up to
me with his hands in his trousers pockets
and pipe in his mouth. He was a short,
wiry-lOoking man, with black mus
tache and dirty, unshaven face. He
ha a most evil expr, ssion of counter
ance. with squint in his right eye, and