satiric grimness.
You remember a story which illustrates this scoffing habit: how the
Roman Ambassador, whose Greek left something to be desired, excited the
uproarious derision of the assembled Tarentines--with results that were
no laughing matter.

I used the opportunity of my conversation with the Director of the
Museum to ask his aid in discovering the river Galaesus. Who could find
himself at Taranto without turning in thought to the Galaesus, and
wishing to walk along its banks? Unhappily, one cannot be quite sure of
its position. A stream there is, flowing into the Little Sea, which by
some is called Galeso; but the country-folk commonly give it the name
of Gialtrezze. Of course I turned my steps in that direction, to see
and judge for myself.

To skirt the western shore of the Mare Piccolo I had to pass the
railway station, and there I made a few inquiries; the official with
whom I spoke knew not the name Galeso, but informed me that the
Gialtrezze entered the sea at a distance of some three kilometres. That
I purposed walking such a distance to see an insignificant stream
excited the surprise, even the friendly concern, of my interlocutor;
again and again he assured me it was not worth while, repeating
emphatically, "_Non c'e novita_." But I went my foolish way. Of two or
three peasants or fishermen on the road I asked the name of the little
river I was approaching; they answered, "Gialtrezze." Then came a man
carrying a gun, whose smile and greeting invited question. "Can you
tell me the name of the stream which flows into the sea just beyond
here?" "Signore, it is the Galeso."

My pulse quickened with delight; all the more when I found that my
informant had no tincture of the classics, and that he supported Galeso
against Gialtrezze simply as a question of local interest. Joyously I
took leave of him, and very soon I was in sight of the river itself.
The river? It is barely half a mile long; it rises amid a bed of great
reeds, which quite conceal the water, and flows with an average breadth
of some ten feet down to the seashore, on either side of it bare, dusty
fields, and a few hoary olives.

The Galaesus?--the river beloved by Horace; its banks pasturing a
famous breed of sheep, with fleece so precious that it was protected by
a garment of skins? Certain it is that all the waters of Magna Graecia
have much diminished since classic times, but (unless there have been
great local changes, due, for example