University of Virginia Library

CHAPTER 18

Oklahoma City Times: Sturms Magazine Section

My Dear Mother: I was so tired last evening from the long hot journey from Rome I could not write. We were traveling from eight a.m. until seven-thirty p.m., and as the coaches lack the conveniences of American cars we were not very comfortable, and when we entered the hotel in Genoa we looked far more like a Negro minstrel troupe than respectable "Cookies." We counted seventy-five tunnels before we realized that the route was "all tunnel." The thick yellow dust was like a sand storm in Oklahoma, and just as agreeable. I was disappointed that our itinerary did not include a visit to the leaning tower of Pisa. As we passed through that city we obtained an excellent view of it and of course Ed sent you a post card. Ed and Miss L. were good angels, by their fun keeping all of us in the best of spirits, even if the trip did lack comfort. We had a little excitement at the noon house; over here, there is an unwritten law for travelers that if an occupant of a seat is called elsewhere, to retain it he must place thereon an article belonging to him. Now to the tale: At a certain station Mr. B. told us to enter the dining car; before leaving the compartments we carefully complied with the law, yet when we returned a woman and two men were coolly enjoying our seats. We politely requested them to vacate, one man did so, the other, a portly Italian with a tiny wife, decided to run a bluff. Mr. B. tried persuasion, then called in the guard, that worthy explained that Cook reserved those compartments, the Italian was unconvinced, asserting that the seats were empty therefore he had the privilege of taking them. The argument waxed hotter. You know how Ed loves a scrap and he was valiantly assisting Mr. B. as the man was equally conversant with French as with his native tongue. The guard advised Mr. B. "to throw the intruder out." The passage way was jammed with our men and Italians. I looked for an "Irish fair" disturbance, and when I saw Mr. B.'s blue eyes assume a frozen glare, and the joyous smile come to the face of Ed, I knew it was only a question of moments until the Italian was ejected forcibly. I cried, "Oh, please do not throw him out." My evident fear arrested them, and after a few more exchanges of violent epithets the man grabbed his trembling wife and left the compartment. Ed and Mr. B. reproached me saying I had deprived them of a bit of pleasure. I told them if it had been in any other country I would not have feared the outcome, but here I had visions of daggers, and I did not wish them mutilated, if not killed. I am glad it ended so peaceably.

This being Sunday we arose early and attended mass in the Cathedral of the Annunciation and returned in time to breakfast with the party. Our number has sadly decreased and we are to lose several within the next few days. I am sorry. At nine-thirty we went to the beach in a street car, and there with difficulty obtained bathing suits and were soon removing the dust of yesterday! If it could be possible I would say the suits were funnier than those used at Lido, the women were again monopolists, the Chinese cut of coat and trousers using so much cloth that the suits of the men were microscopic as to leg! As the coats were minus belts, I had a strenuous half hour in the endeavor to keep mine within speaking distance of the trousers. The beach is too full of deep holes, the water too cold and the waves too fierce. I did not enjoy the dip. If you leave the ropes you are told to wear a life preserver. Ed donned one and had a glorious time tossed hither and thither, finding in the violent exercise all the delights of a scrap! Mr. B. also appeared to find in it too much pleasure, but the rest of us were not very much enthusiastic.

This afternoon a conveyance on the tallyho style was provided by Cook and with a guide we commenced our usual diversion. I thought it would be fun to ride so high up but after the second descent I begged a seat in the one carriage furnished. Our guide today was a queer specimen, evidently believing he was the whole show and that it was "his time to talk." At the first Cathedral we were met by the Sacristan or Sexton, I know not which, who deemed it his duty and privilege to earn a gratuity by explaining the beauties of the ancient edifice. Our Cook cicerone waxed indignant and endeavored to out-talk him, then the fun commenced, the men urging them on by questions, etc. Their English was a queer mixture at best, and under the excitement fostered it was quite marvelous, we had much trouble to keep from spoiling it all by undue laughter. The tomb of John the Baptist was shown to the men, women are not allowed to approach his resting place. I inquired the reason and the Genoese replied: "No, No, St. John he losa his heada because a woman aska for it, now not woman cana com-a near." At the next Cathedral the sexton and our guide almost came to blows in their endeavor to out-do each other in explanations. Of course, you know that the churches all contain masterpieces of art, yet I cannot write one-third I see. We visited the house of Columbus, at least the one so-called. The guide candidly informed us that the best authorities concede Columbus was born in the hills. Carriages are not permitted to traverse that street, and for a very good reason, it is very steep and about the width of a small runabout. This is one of the quaintest cities we have visited, the houses are old, the streets up and down. There are many where the sun has not entered for centuries and the only cleaning they have received is when flushed by a rain. Italians have plenty of nose yet I think it must be strictly ornamental affair; if not, how could they endure all these odors? Ed sent you a couple of cards showing the dank darkness and the clothes lines running across the narrow street from the window to window, to the topmost story and the duly adorned with the family wash. By the way, Sunday appears to be the favorite wash day in Genoa; we have seen many women washing at public fountains and washhouses. Ed explains it thus: they have only two suits, one every-day, one Sunday; and as this is the day of the best the other is cleaned for Monday! The Genoese women do not trouble about the latest style in hats. They wear a tiny veil tied in a lovely bow above their raven locks.

Having seen the Campo Santo, I am quite willing to declare it is the grandest cemetery in the world. The tombs are of the finest marble and ornamented with statuary and other work by the best of Italian artists. Some are exquisite, others grotesque, all worthy of notice. The guide with a dramatic gesture exclaimed: "Many who are here dead are living yet." It appears that you do not await death, to have a tomb in Campo Santo. You have it made beforehand and thus you are sure the inscription etc., will please you. A monument representing an aged woman selling newspapers attracted our attention. We were told it stood above the grave of a peasant woman, who had earned the money to have it made by selling papers, and it was a true likeness! The surrounding hills, with their beautiful villas almost hidden by the trees, are very inviting, and with the blue waters of the Mediterranean far below, it is little wonder poets loved "La Superba" and that Shelley preferred it to England. If I had lived here as did Columbus, I would have been so satisfied I would never have faced the dangers of the deep in the search for another hemisphere.

This is the first evening I have felt too tired to walk with Ed, he is on the Plaza smoking and endeavoring to buy watches from a street peddler. Tomorrow I shall have my breakfast in bed and rest until eleven o'clock. We leave for Turin after twelve.

Your very tired daughter,

C.