pears like a couched lion, guarding the entrance of the Bay of
Naples; his majestic head being formed by the stupendous cliffs of the
Salto that face the sunrise, whilst his back and loins are represented by
the long broad slope which stretches from the summit of Monte Solaro to
the most westerly headland of Vitareta. Nor is it only as a guardian to
their Bay that Capri serves the Neapolitans, for it also presents them
with a gigantic natural barometer. In fine settled weather a soft haze
invariably lies over the sea, so that Capri is only faintly visible from
the shores of Parthenope, save at sunrise and sunset, when for a short
time the graceful form of the islet looms out clear-cut like a jagged
amethyst upon a sapphire bed; but before rain or storm it yields up its
inmost secrets to the public gaze of Naples. The northern Marina, the
towns of Capri and Ana-Capri, even the little terraced fields become
discernible to the naked eye: "It will be wet to-morrow" augur the
weather-wise of Naples, and the prediction is rarely falsified.

[Illustration: FARAGLIONI ROCKS, CAPRI]

It is an easy matter to cross from Sorrento to the island, whether it be
by the little steamer that plies daily between Naples and Capri, putting
in at Sorrento on its journeys backwards and forwards, or--far pleasanter
if somewhat slower way--by engaging a boat with four rowers, who on a calm
day ought to make the Marina of Capri in less than two hours. Nothing can
be more delightful or exhilarating than this old-fashioned method of
transit; and it gives also a feeling of superiority over less enterprising
persons who prefer the quicker passage on a smoky steamer, crammed with
tourists and attendant touts. It is the very morning for a row on the cool
glassy water, as we step joyfully into our boat with its four stalwart
Phrygian-capped sailors in attendance:

"Con questo zeffiro
Cosi soave,
Oh, com' e bello
Star su la nave!
Mare si placido,
Vento si caro,
Scordar fa i triboli
Al marinaro."

Bending with a will to their oars, our genial mariners quickly impel our
barque round the first jutting headland, so that the thickly populated
Piano di Sorrento is at once lost to view. Making good headway over the
clear water, it is not long before we find ourselves passing beneath the
wave-washed precipices of the Salto, and well within our time limit of two
hours we reach the roadstead of the Marina, to find ourselves in a br