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390 OUR FOUNTAIN.
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software. The text has not been manually corrected and should not be relied on to be an accurate representation of the item.
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Transcript
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Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software. The text has not been manually corrected and should not be relied on to be an accurate representation of the item.
Additionally, when viewing full transcripts, extracted text may not be in the same order as the original document.
Notwithstanding A Strong Prejudice In Fa...
and Ms wife , is about the same age . as . the latter , though she is still quite a child in spirits and careless gaiety . The fat
gouvernante , who never leaves her side for a moment , cannot with all her efforts drill her into the demure propriety of deportment _. Italian girls
are taught to assume . There is an irrepressible vivacity in the way she flirts her green fanclasps and unclasps her gilt prayer-book
and taps her tiny foot impatientl , y on the pavement , whilst the old , woman carefully closes and locks the door after her . She , too , has
a fan and mass-book carefully wrapped up in a white handkerchief , so no doubt she is going to escort her young lady to vespers at the
Ponte . Whilst she is still fumbling with the key , the girl has darted across to the fountain , and lightly sprinkles a beautiful bouquet she
carries , probably intended to be laid before some shrine ; this proceeding scandalises the gouvemante greatly , especially when the
Comtessa gives her the wet flowers to hold , not caring to soil her own kid gloves or many flounced muslin dress . As they go along
the road together , the girl hardly able to keep back her dancingfootsteps to the lagging pace of her attendant , I am forcibly
reminded of Juliet and her nurse : the little , bright-eyed Comtessa ,. with her dimpled cheeks and arch smile , is hardly like the Juliet of
our imaginations ; but the portly puffing gouvemante must be a descendant of the old nurse .
• By tins time our fierce enemy the sun is sinking slowly behind the Western hills , a soft delicious breeze is reviving the trees and ;
flowers , the birds and insects make themselves audible again , and every one turns out to enjoy the blessed , but all too short ,. cool
evening hours . The stone bench is occupied by men placidly smoking , or gambling for very small copper coins . Chairs and little
tables are brought out from the houses , and family groups are to be seen in every direction ; the men drinking coffee and reading the
newspaper , whilst the women keep up a continual flow of quiet chatter and laughter ; the maid-servants form into little knots round the
fountain , eagerly demanding news or gossip from the various passers * hywho are now returning from the Ponte to their village homes .
As , the short twilight deepens into night , men and boys return from work and join the different group / 3 , not too tired it would
seem for much good-humored talk and laughter . Just as the last ray of yellow light is fading awaymy eye is caught by a familiar
, blue muslin skirt , and Fortunata and Luigi come slowly through the arch , hand in hand like two children ; they are followed by the
mother and little sister , who look a little tired and plaintive , as people will sometimes after a long holiday . Not so Fortunatashe
, is as gay and fresh as ever ; and not so Luigi , who makes nothing of four hilly stony miles between him and his mountain home . . It is
strange that they still find enough left unsaid to' make it necessary to linger by the fountain , till the long-suffering mother declares she
sle can ep wait on the no steps longer . , At and last Lui little gi take sist s his fi hilo nal sop lea hically ve , and settles plunges to
390 Our Fountain.
390 OUR FOUNTAIN .
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Citation
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English Woman’s Journal (1858-1864), Aug. 1, 1862, page 390, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse.ac.uk/periodicals/ewj/issues/ewj_01081862/page/30/
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