er the
patriarch's wickedness. She confided that she ate maccaroni once
a day, and she talked constantly of eating it just as the Northern
Italians always talk of _polenta._ She was a true daughter of the
isle, and had never left it but once in her life, when she went to
Naples. "Naples was beautiful, yes; but one always loves one's own
country the best." She was very attentive and good, but at the end was
rapacious of more and more _buonamano_. "Have patience with her, sir,"
said the blameless Antonino, who witnessed her greediness; "they do
not understand certain matters here, poor little things!"

As for the patriarch, he was full of learning relative to himself and
to Capri; and told me with much elaboration that the islanders lived
chiefly by fishing, and gained something also by their vineyards. But
they were greatly oppressed by taxes, and the strict enforcement
of the conscriptions, and they had little love for the Italian
Government, and wished the Bourbons back again. The Piedmontese,
indeed, misgoverned them horribly. There was the Blue Grotto, for
example: formerly travellers paid the guides five, six, ten francs for
viewing it; but now the Piedmontese had made a tariff, and the poor
guides could only exact a franc from each person. Things were in a
ruinous condition.

By this we had arrived at a little inn on the top of the mountain,
very near the ruins of the palaces, "Here," said the patriarch, "it is
customary for strangers to drink a bottle of the wine of Tiberius." We
obediently entered the hostelry, and the landlord--a white-toothed,
brown-faced, good-humored peasant--gallantly ran forward and presented
the ladies with bouquets of roses. We thought it a pretty and graceful
act, but found later that it was to be paid for, like all pretty and
graceful things in Italy; for when we came to settle for the wine, and
the landlord wanted more than justice, he urged that he had presented
the ladies with flowers,--yet he equally gave me his benediction when
I refused to pay for his politeness.

"Now here," again said the patriarch in a solemn whisper, "you can see
the Tarantella danced for two francs; whereas down at your inn, if you
hire the dancers through your landlord, it will cost you five or six
francs." The difference was tempting, and decided us in favor of an
immediate Tarantella. The muletresses left their beasts to browse
about the door of the inn and came into the little public room, where
were