The Celina Democrat. (Celina, O. [Ohio]) 1895-1921, 1914-09-04

of the Irish maid who pro-
tested she could not see why her mis-
tress wanted to study Italian since
few spake It and them's mostly
dirty"
In our ignorance of Tuscany we
had prepared ourselves for the worst
in the matter of accommodations, ex-
pecting to have to put up with un-
speakable dscomforts in out-ofthe-
way places on our route, not yet real
izing that no matter into what remote
corner of Tuscany one may penetrate
he can always be sure of courteous
treatment and good clean bed and
wholesome, wellcooked food.
In the course of several weeks we
took our leisurely way over the hills
and across the valleys, stopping at a
number Of Tuscan towns, which, after
their tempestuOus youth, have settled
down to such q green old age that in
their ruined watch-towers trees have
sprung up for sentinels and wild flow
ers run riot over walls that rival
armies used to scale. Although most
of these places were fairly inlaid and
overlaid with treasures of art, the bub-
BILE of our pleasure was constantly be-
ing pricked by the tantalizing thought
that no matter what particular spot
we happened to be in, Just little fur
ther down the valley or across the
hills there was a seemingly endless
chain of equally interesting places
which beckoned US, making US real
ize that, though our time was limited
Italy's treasures we're not
or the towns we visited, two stand
out now in memory as they do in real
ity, higher older and rarer than any
of the others; San Gimignano, with
her musical name and her memories
that reach back to Dante, and Volter-
ra, whose somber bricks and stones
softened by Times subtle touch, glow
with colors that only the centuries
give-cities set on a hill, yet hid from
the world, shTouded in mystery and
oblivion.
Our entrance into San Gimignano
late one afternoon Just as the sun was
setting and the cathedral chimes we're
tolling the death of another day, seem
ed in keeping with the spirit of the
place, whose day In the working world
is done, and yet about whose winding
streets and crumbling palaces there
still linger a beauty and a pathos like
the aftergIow of her departed great
ness.
The whole place seems more like
medieval mirage than a present day
reality. Nowhere else in Italy does
one get so strongly the feeling of be-
ing transplanted bodily into the life
of the middle ages.
Like all small Italian towns, San
Gimignano is richer in sacred edifces
than in anything else, unless it be
legends and relics. The Collegiate
one of its twelve places of Worship
contains some characteristic examples ,
of Benazzo GOzzoli and frescoes by q,
Ghirlandaio, in which that highly aca- .
demic artist for once forgets his tech :
nique and loses himself in the tender ;
delineation Of scenes from the life of :
the child saint of San Gimignano, San ,
ia Fina, whose patience and serenity 3
in suffering shed a strange halo of /
sanctity over the bloody annals Of {
crafty and warlike age Legend has
1t that at her death all the bells in 8
San Gimignano, of their own accord, E
rang out together to celebrate her re- =
lease, and that unearthly flowers bios '
somed about the poor little room c
where for five years she had lain on d
her narrow board. s
The Collegiate has yet another /
claim on our interest. Two hundred Q