THE BEGGAR SELLS THE BOOTS.
"Look, I sent that poor man my boots yesterday, so that he should not wet his feet, but he has not put them on. What do you think is the reason? What should you say?"
"He probably wishes to keep them for Sundays," was the serious answer of that dear simple woman.
"You are joking, my dear; that man is old, and if he keeps them for Sundays he will not see the end of them. I say that he has sold them."
"And I say, that if he had two or three lire to spare, he would have wished to buy a pair, poor man!"
We each remained of our own opinion. Late in the day we went out, and, approaching the poor man, I said to him—
"Why have you not put on the boots that I gave you? Are they tight?"
"Your Excellency," he replied, "if I put the boots on, no one will give me another penny. I have sold them, your Excellency; and may the Virgin bless you."
A few days after my arrival at Naples I went to Sorrento. The discordant noise of the town annoyed me, and I wished to try that little place, so much praised for its climate and for its quietness, and so full of association with that illustrious and unhappy man, Torquato Tasso. I went there with my friend Venturi, who had come to Naples for a few days with the Grand Duke.
SORRENTO AND ITS INHABITANTS.