ith which the Bay of
Naples has always been so closely associated, and it is here that we can
best make ourselves acquainted with the process of manufacturing
maccaroni. By following any one of the tall brown-skinned fellows,
stripped to the waist and bare-legged, who have been breathing the fresh
air of the street for a few moments, we quickly arrive at the entrance of
one of the many small factories with which the town abounds. In spite of
open doors and windows its atmosphere feels hot and stifling, for it is
impregnated with tiny particles of flour dust, which too often, alas! are
apt to affect permanently the lungs of the workmen. The dough of maccaroni
is obtained by mixing pure wheaten flour with semolina in certain
proportions, only water being used for the purpose, whilst the task of
kneading is carried out in primitive fashion by means of a lever worked
continuously by two or more men. When the dough has at length arrived at
the required consistency after some hours of steady kneading, it is placed
in a large perforated copper cylinder, each hole having a central pin at
the bottom and a valve on top. A powerful screw is then employed to press
down upon the dough, which is thus squeezed out of the imprisoning
cylinder through the holes in the serpentine shape that is so familiar to
us. On reaching a certain length these pipes, issuing from the holes, are
twisted off and are then removed for drying to the frames in the open air.
Maccaroni has, of course, many varieties of form and quality, from the
thin fluffy vermicelli, known under the poetical name of _Capilli degli
Angeli_, to the great thick pipe-stem-like article of ordinary commerce.
There are endless means of cooking and dressing this, the national dish of
Italy, but perhaps the most popular of all is _alla Napolitana_, wherein
it is served with tomato sauce, to which a sprinkling of grated Parmesan
cheese is frequently added. A compound of eggs and maccaroni, sometimes
known as a Neapolitan omelette, likewise makes an appetising dish, though
it is one that is little known to foreigners. One circumstance is patent;
the dismal so-called "maccaroni pudding" one meets with in England seems
to have nothing in common with the delicately flavoured, sustaining dish
that can be obtained for a few pence in any Southern restaurant.

Torre Annunziata has the reputation of being a dirty malodorous town,
composed of shabby stone houses and full of quarrelsome people. W