A steep and lofty hill rises immediately back of the city, on the top of which stands an old castle. I climbed to the top of the hill by a zig-zag road furnished with stone steps. From this spot I had a most enchanting view of the city and bay. Innumerable domes, covered with glazed tiles of variegated color, sparkled in the bright sun; and the blue waters of the bay spread beautifully out beyond, bounded by the majestic pile of Vesuvius, and the romantic shores of Sorrento. But what struck me as the most novel, was the remarkable hum of the city. It was not the ordinary clatter and roar of carriage wheels, but the audible murmur of three hundred thousand human voices, which broke on my ear in a continuous roll, like the moan of the distant ocean. The city is like a great bee-hive where the inhabitants keep up a constant hum.
To describe the amusements, the lively and comical manners of the Neapolitans, which render the streets of the city a perpetual fair and spectacle, night and day, would require a volume. The ordinary manners of the people, when engaged in the common transactions of life, are full of action, grimace, and theatrical flourish. Two fellows, making a bargain, will chatter, bawl, exclaim, sputter, roll up their eyes, shrug their shoulders, flourish their arms, stamp their feet, cut capers, and practise the most extravagant grimaces; you would think they were going to claw each other’s eyes out; yet they are only higgling about the value of a sixpence. If you ask the price of an article, in the street, you will be told that it is five dollars; but there will be no difficulty in beating it down to half a dollar. They think it not at all disreputable to impose on a stranger, and make him pay ten times the value of a thing. When they are reproached with these transactions, they smile in your face, and ask you how you can expect a poor man to be honest!
The following story is extracted from a little book entitled “Moral Tales, by Robert Merry,” and published by John S. Taylor & Co., New York.
Cheerful Cherry;
OR, MAKE THE BEST OF IT.
“Oh dear me,” said Frederic; “how the wind does blow! It will take my hat off and throw it into the pond! I wish it wouldn’t blow so!”
“Oh dear, oh dear!” said little Philip, set agoing by the cries and complaints of his elder brother; “Oh dear, naughty wind, blow Philip away!”
“How it does rain!” said Frederic.
“Oh how it rain!” said Philip.