The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1899-09-10

10 StOOp 10 embrace the heaven peiOW-
After hasty breakfast consisting of
coffee and a roll you find your gondola
awaiting you. Vittoria, the gondolier.
young Venetian who looks as IL he had been
cast in the mold OF a Roman gladiator. is
arranging the cushions. He displays bit
of diplomacy and appeals to your national
pride by having an American flag displayed
at the prov of the craft. You step from the
door OF the hotel into the gondola. Vittoria,
whose face beams with amiability and en-
thusiasm, bends to the single oar with that
graceful sweep of the body peculiar to gon-
doliers and sends the odd conveyance along
at a surprising rate. The morning breeze
coming up from the bay gives bouyancy 10
spirits and sends the blood warm TO your
face as IL the vigor Of rare wine was in its
flow. You glide down the Grand canal, past
fine old palaces, where have lived and
wrought some of the great artists in paint
ing, architecture, sculpture and literature.
There is the palace where Robert Browning
lived and died. and here Byron lived and
wrote some of his best verse; George Eliot
and Wagner also lived here upon the Grand
canal in Venice, and some of their works
are associated with the history of this an
cient city. w. D. Howells wrote Venetian
Life here, and Hopkinson Smith found here
the inspiration for his delightful book.
'Gondola Days. Titan and many other
great artists, whose works are monuments
to the citys fame. lived and labored here.
And here was laid the plot of Shakspeare's
great drama, THE Merchant of Venice"
There is the house L.. which Desdemona
lived, and in little shop near the Rialto
now occupied by Venetian butcher, who
sells meat, maccaroni and spaghetti, is
where Shylock had his money changer 8
Office.
We pass the Rielto and the vegetable
market. and, leaving the Grand canal enter
the lagoon, where the fish boats, melon and
vegetable boats are coming in from the
islands to the markets. Boats laden with
fruits. mellow, ripe and golden; juicy melons
that would delight the heart of Georgian.
and the fish boats, with queer sails, the
color of which is unlike anything elsa
tint that is the envy of artists, but which
they have never been able to trans
fer to canvas. 1t is busy, pictur-
| esque scene. Returning to the mar
| ket, We stop to study the people.
| and when ready again to embark Wit
| toria is nowhere to be seen. A call soon
brings the shining metal PROV of the gon-
| dola around the corner of a narrow and
| well shaded canal There is 'ke-chunck''
| of melon rind in the water and Vittoria
wipes the back Of bronze hand across
| his mouth. Where. senor?' he asks. THE
| canals. the shady, quiet Places" we answer.
Soon We pass under a little garden, hanging
| above the narrow canal, where oleanders,
| nasturtiums and geraniums are in brilliant
bloom. Vittoria tells us in bad English that
it is the home of the Countess Albrizzi a
4 rTl-.
countess is in the country. Might we see the
palace? The gondola glides up to the side
| door. A knock and a long wait Then the
door opens and an Italian girl, with grace
full form and brilliant black eyes. appears.
"Yes, the senior can see the garden and the
house." e francs)
| The house is filled with beautiful antique
furniture. tapestry and rare old plate.
Would the senior have cup of coffee in
the garden? Yes. And on a beautiful August
morning In the year Of our Lord, 1893. we
sat in the seat of the once mighty Doge
| of Venice and drank coffee.
When ready to continue our journey Wit
toria was again missing. re soon emerged
from the same door through which We had
| entered the old palace, somewhat en-
barrassed. There was brighter look in the
black eyes of the Italian girl and we guessed
that the gondolier's lips had tasted some
thing sweeter than the melon which had
been the cause of our delay at the market
place. The black-eyed maiden is the daugh-
ter Of the old housekeeper who takes care
of the place in the absence of her mistress
and admits occasional visitors. 1t was ar
easy matter to guess why Vittoria had
found the garden on that summer morning
/ Venice is uuiet and restful because trans.
portation is all by water. There is not a
horse in the city and a wagon is thing
unknown in this strange old town. And the
best evidence of antiquity about everything
| in Venice is the fact that there has mo-
been a house of any kind built here fol
over a century. r. Z. MANSFIELD.