ened in these parts.

At length we reach the tiny hamlet and station of Pesto, surrounded by its
groves of mournful eucalyptus trees, and if we visit the station itself,
we cannot help noticing the fine gauze net-work over every window and
door, also the veiled faces and be-gloved hands of the station-master and
his _facchini_. It is not difficult to gauge the reason of the eucalyptus
trees at Pesto, an alien importation like the buffalo, for these native
trees of Australia have been planted here with the avowed object of
reducing the malaria, for which the place is only too renowned. Scientists
have positively declared that the mosquitoes which rise in clouds from the
poisonous swamps at sunset are directly responsible for this terrible form
of ague, and a paternal Government has accordingly introduced gum-trees to
improve the quality of the air, and has presented gloves, veils and fine
lattice work to its servants in the hope of protecting them from the bites
of these tiny pestilence-bearing insects. We do not wish to dispute the
wisdom of modern bacteriologists, but somehow we have no great faith in
this elaborate scheme for battling with Nature; and indeed not a few
persons who have studied the matter declare that though the reeking
marshes are certainly productive of malaria in themselves (so much so that
it is dangerous to linger amidst the ruined temples of an evening), yet
these spiteful little creatures are at least innocent of innoculating
humanity with this particular disease. Moreover, a plausible idea that is
now largely held insists that the recent spread of cultivation over the
Lucanian Plain is itself largely responsible for the increase of malaria;
it is the up-turning of the germ-impregnated earth that has lain fallow
for centuries, say the supporters of this theory, which awakens and sets
free the slumbering demon of fever in the soil, so that the speeding of
the plough on the Neapolitan coast must inevitably mean also the spreading
of this fell and mysterious sickness. Let us therefore give the devil his
due: the mosquito is a hateful and persistent foe, and his sting is both
painful and disfiguring, but do not let us accuse him of carrying malaria
until the case can be better proved against him. But enough of fevers and
doctors' saws! Let us turn our willing eyes towards the three great
temples that confront us close at hand. Before however proceeding to
inspect these great monuments of Grecian art an