ar. Almost half a century ago she
was obliged to go with her husband to Messina, and lived there some
time: a circumstance, this, worthy of note, since our countrywomen never
go away from their own district save from the gravest necessity.
Returning to her native home, she spoke of things of which the gossips
of the neighbourhood could not speak: she spoke of the Citadel, a
fortress which no one could take, not even the Turks themselves; she
spoke of the Pharos of Messina, which was beautiful, but dangerous for
sailors; she spoke of Reggio in Calabria, which, facing the walls of
Messina, seemed to wish to touch hands with them; and she remembered and
mimicked the pronunciation of the Milazzesi, who spoke, Messia said, so
curiously as to make one laugh. All these reminiscences have remained
most vivid in her memory. She cannot read, but she knows so many things
that no one else knows, and repeats them with a propriety of tongue that
is a pleasure to hear. This is a characteristic to which I call my
readers' attention. If the tale turns upon a vessel which has to make a
voyage, she utters, without remarking it, or without seeming to do so,
sailors' phrases, and words which only seamen and those who have to do
with seamen are acquainted with. If the heroine arrives, poor and
desolate, at a baker's and takes a place there, Messia's language is so
completely that of the trade that you would believe that the baking of
bread had been her business, whereas at Palermo this occupation, an
ordinary one in the families of the large and small communes of the
island, is that of professional bakers alone.... As a young woman Messia
was a tailoress; when through toil her sight became weakened, she turned
to sewing winter quilts. But in the midst of this work, whereby she
earns her living, she finds time for the fulfilment of her religious
duties; every day, winter and summer, in rain or snow, in the gloaming
she goes to her prayers. Whatever feast is celebrated in the church, she
is solicitous to attend: Monday, she is at the Ponte dell' Ammiraglio
praying for the Souls of the Beheaded; Wednesday, you find her at San
Giuseppe keeping the festival of the Madonna della Providenza; every
Friday she goes to San Francesco di Paola, reciting by the way her
accustomed beads; and if one Saturday pass when she ought to go to the
Madonna dei Cappuccini, another does not; and there she prays with a
devotion which none can understand who has not exp