tion, where the shape of
Etna shows more clearly amid the lower mountains, I found myself
approaching what looked like a handsome public edifice, a museum or
gallery of art. It was a long building, graced with a portico, and
coloured effectively in dull red; all about it stood lemon trees, and
behind, overtopping the roof, several fine palms. Moved by curiosity I
quickened my steps, and as I drew nearer I felt sure that this must be
some interesting institution of which I had not heard. Presently I
observed along the facade a row of heads of oxen carved in stone--an
ornament decidedly puzzling. Last of all my eyes perceived, over the
stately entrance, the word "Macello," and with astonishment I became
aware that this fine structure, so agreeably situated, was nothing else
than the town slaughter-house. Does the like exist elsewhere? It was a
singular bit of advanced civilization, curiously out of keeping with
the thoughts which had occupied me on my walk. Why, I wonder, has
Reggio paid such exceptional attention to this department of its daily
life? One did not quite know whether to approve this frank exhibition
of carnivorous zeal; obviously something can be said in its favour,
yet, on the other hand, a man who troubles himself with finer scruples
would perhaps choose not to be reminded of pole-axe and butcher's
knife, preferring that such things should shun the light of day. It
gave me, for the moment, an odd sense of having strayed into the world
of those romancers who forecast the future; a slaughter-house of
tasteful architecture, set in a grove of lemon trees and date palms,
suggested the dreamy ideal of some reformer whose palate shrinks from
vegetarianism. To my mind this had no place amid the landscape which
spread about me. It checked my progress; I turned abruptly, to lose the
impression as soon as possible.

No such trouble has been taken to provide comely housing for the
collection of antiquities which the town possesses. The curator who led
me through the museum (of course I was the sole visitor) lamented that
it was only communal, the Italian Government not having yet cared to
take it under control; he was an enthusiast, and spoke with feeling of
the time and care he had spent upon these precious relics--_sedici anni
di vita_--sixteen years of life, and, after all, who cared for them?
There was a little library of archaeological works, which contained two
volumes only of the _Corpus Inscriptionum Latinaru