an old masterpiece, and
reminding one of the fine ironwork which adorns the streets of Siena.
Don Pasquale could not be satisfied until I had privately assured him
of my genuine admiration. Was it, he asked, at all like a chemist's
shop in London? My reply certainly gratified him, but I am afraid it
did not increase his desire to visit England.

Whilst I was at the chemist's, there entered a number of peasants,
whose appearance was so striking that I sought information about them.
Don Pasquale called them "_Greci_"; they came from a mountain village
where the dialect of the people is still a corrupt Greek. One would
like to imagine that their origin dates back to the early Hellenic
days, but it is assuredly much later. These villages may be a relic of
the Byzantine conquest in the sixth century, when Southern Italy was,
to a great extent, re peopled from the Eastern Empire, though another
theory suggests that they were formed by immigrants from Greece at the
time of the Turkish invasion. Each of the women had a baby hanging at
her back, together with miscellaneous goods which she had purchased in
the town: though so heavily burdened, they walked erect, and with the
free step of mountaineers.

I could not have had a better opportunity than was afforded me on this
day of observing the peasantry of the Catanzaro district. It was the
feast of the Immaculate Conception, and from all around the
country-folk thronged in pilgrimage to the church of the Immaculate;
since earliest morning I had heard the note of bagpipes, which
continued to sound before the street shrines all day long. Don Pasquale
assured me that the festival had an importance in this region scarcely
less than that of Christmas. At the hour of high mass I entered the
sanctuary whither all were turning their steps; it was not easy to make
a way beyond the portico, but when I had slowly pressed forward through
the dense crowd, I found that the musical part of the service was being
performed by a lively string-band, up in a gallery. For seats there was
no room; a standing multitude filled the whole church before the altar,
and the sound of gossiping voices at moments all but overcame that of
the music. I know not at what point of the worship I chanced to be
present; heat and intolerable odours soon drove me forth again, but I
retained an impression of jollity, rather than of reverence. Those
screaming and twanging instruments sounded much like an invitation to
th