ead aloud the incantations out of a
certain book he had brought with him for the purpose. In course of time
the chest was discovered to the joy of all, and sure enough it was bulging
with the desired gold pieces. They opened it without difficulty, and the
four friends divided its contents in equal shares. Scarcely had the work
of division been carried out, than there came a loud voice issuing from
the unknown, calling out the question:--"_Che ferete con questo tesoro?_"
"_Mangeremo, beveremo!_" boldly replied one of the group, to whom this
sudden accession of wealth offered dreams of unlimited platters of
maccaroni and countless flasks of ruby-red Gragnano in the future. "We
shall eat, we shall drink, but we shall also make abundant alms!" called
out another--let us hope it was the priest!--but no sooner had the word
_elemosina_ (alms) been uttered than there was heard a most terrific
rattling of chains, the gold pieces turned to dead leaves in the
affrighted mortals' hands, and the four men took to their heels and fled
in alarm down the mountain flank.

Vincenzo believes this tale implicitly, just as it was related to him, and
he adds to combat our own incredulity that the priest and one of the men
who took part in this strange adventure were still living and ready to
confirm the story, but that of the remaining two, one was now dead, and
the other had been deaf and dumb ever since the event. It seem a pity to
criticise Vincenzo's simple little narrative, which makes a pretty
fairy-story and points a sound moral, as it stands.

We enter the fresh scented woods that have now replaced in our climb the
rich cultivated crops and terraced gardens, and here amidst the clumps of
ancient chestnuts our guide points out to us the great snow-pits, the
contents of which are used to cool the water sold by the _acquaioli_
during hot summer nights in the sultry streets of Naples. These pits are
dug about fifty feet deep, and half as much across, being conical in shape
with a grating placed a short distance above the tapering base to allow
the melted snow to drain off into the soil. The sides of each pit are
first well-lined with straw and leafy branches, and the new-fallen snow
shovelled in and forced into a solid mass by pressure from above, whilst
on top is placed a sound thatched roof. As we wander through the silent
woods we see patches of anemones, white and blue, lying upon the
leaf-strewn ground, and beside them in many places