at swims is too large or too small.

It was almost calm again when we landed the rescued men at Salerno; we
were glad to get rid of them, for their gratitude was overpowering,
especially as all the salt water that had soaked them could not disguise
the savor of their favorite herb.

You may break, you may ruin the clay if you will, but the scent of the
garlic will cling to it still.

Guy gave them enough to buy two such boats as they had lost--about as
much as one wins or loses in an evening's whist, with fair luck and
half-crown points.

This incident showed the change that was coming over my companion. His
principle had always been that a man who could not help himself was not
worth helping. He never asked for aid himself, and never gave it to his
own sex, as a rule. I believe his rescuing me at B---- was a solitary
case, and I took it as a great compliment. You will say this one was
only an act of common humanity. If you had known the man, you would have
thought, as I did, that the words of her, who was an angel then, were
bearing fruit already.

Nothing happened of the slightest interest as we ran down through the
Straits of Messina, and up the eastern coast of Calabria. We did not
stay to see Sicily then, for we had settled to be in Venice by a certain
day, to meet the Forresters.

If I were to be seduced into "word-painting," the Queen of the Adriatic
would tempt me. I know no other scene so provocative of enthusiasm as
the square acre round St. Mark's. All things considered, the author of
the "Stones of Venice" seems very sufficiently rational and
cold-blooded.

We can not all be romantic about landscapes. Nature has worshipers
enough not to grudge a few to Art. For myself, admiring both when in
perfection, I prefer hewn stones to rough rocks--the Canalazzo to _any_
cascade. The glory of old days that clings round the Palace of the Doges
stands comparison, in my mind's eye, with the Iris of Terni.

But why trench on a field already amply cultivated? I will never
describe any place till I find a virgin spot untouched by Murray, and
then I will send it to him, with my initials. Does such exist in Europe?
"Faith, very hardly, sir." _Nil intentatum reliquit._ What obligations
do we not owe to the accomplished compilers? Rarely rising into poetry
(I except "Spain"--the field, and bar one), never jocose, they move on,
severe in simplicity, straight to their solemn end of enlightening the
British tourist. Upri