The Waterbury Democrat., 1937-08-07
Copyright, John Barr, 193D

It was 8 novel experience for a small party of American tourists to be the only guests in a large Venetian hotel-and the only tourists in all Venice, too-aS we were in September, 1886: and we were in top spirits when we sat down to our first breakfast in the famous old city. And I was mighty fortunate in having three such stalwart American travelling companions as Comstock, Brandon and Henry-beaming with friend- Illness and good will and making friends for us wherever we went.
 At our invitation the hotel pro- prietor joined us at breakfast, which was served in a cheerful small room adjoining the main dining-room; our table being placed in a large window over- looking the Grand Canal, which at that point is as wide as a river and broadens till it reaches nearby Piazza San Marco, whence 1t curves out to the lagoon that connects it with the open sea.
 Right under our window we could see our two handsome gon- dolas and the smiling gondoliers giving them an extra polish and awaiting our orders.
 We spent a full hour at break fast that beautiful morning half a century ago. The concierge came in, too, and increased our table company to six-and he and the proprietor made themselves very agreeable and laid out a program for our first day in Ven- ice; and while we drank our cof- fee and ate our eggs and rolls and marmalade, and looked out upon the sparkling waters of the Grand Canal-they recalled for our benefit some of the historic scenes from the drama of a thou sand years of war and peace that had been enacted there. for they knew the history and romance of Venice and the Adriatic sea-like a book.
 Of course under no other cir- cumstances could our host and concierge have given so much per- sonal attention to one small party of tourists; but that was our good luck.
 That day furnished one episode that was not on our original pro- gram, of which I was the victim and my companions were the glee- full spectators and abetters.
 We had come in our gondolas to Piazza San Marco (St. Marks Square); we had viewed with ad- miratoin the original famous Campanile; we had observed the centuries-hon custom of feed- ing the Doves; we had visited the Palace of the Doges-and crossed the Bridge of Sighs-and gone down under the seas through un- canny stone passages into the scared and blood-stained dum- geons of times and practices long past.
 Back in the sunshine and pleasant breezes of Piazza San Marco, we found we had an hour to wait for a special ceremony in St. Marks cathedral which was on our days program, so we stepped into a souvenir shop located across the Square from the Cathe- dral, and while my companions were making some small purchases I chanced to notice a quaintly- carved wooden bellows designed for fireplace use, but without giv- ing it a second thought was pass ing along when an observant clerk was at my elbow:-
 "Signor likes the bellows" he said. with an ingratiating smile, taking 1t in his hand and dangling 1t enticingly before me.
 "What's tn price?" asked, in- differently, without any intent of buying.
 He named a figure equivalent to SIP in American money.
 "No," I said, positively, T don't want it. It's too big to carry anyway" And with this settled, as supposed, I joined my conn., panions. But in no time, the salesman, with the bellows waiv- ing in one hand and triumphant smile from ear to ear, came hurry ing across the floor to me
 T have speak with the pro- prietor," he said, looking at me as though I was the luckiest fel- low in the world, and had drawn the grand prize
 ''FIe say, the Signor is an Ameri- can-he have set his heart upon the hellows-he shall have 1t for" naming a figure equiva- lent to $l0-and thrust the bel- lows into my arms.
 T don't want 1t at any price," [ declared impatiently, as I pushed the bellows on a counter and followed my companions, who were in great spirits over my annoyance, out of the shop.
 Nearby we took g table in an open-air cafe, and ordered wine and Apcilinaris water and cigars;