A Voyage Of Consolation by Sara Jeannette Duncan (librera reader .txt) 📖

The Proprietor Became Truculent And Gave Us,

Although He Spoke No English,  So Vivid An Idea Of The Inconsistency Of

Our Presence In His Premises,  That We Retired In all The Irritation Of

The Well-Meaning And Misunderstood. The Senator,  However,  Who Had

Absolute Confidence In His Phrase Book,  Saw A Deeper Significance In The

Remarkable Unwillingness Of The People Of Bologna To Expatiate Upon The

Feature Which Had Given Them Fame. "The Fact Is," Said He Gloomily,

Restoring His Note-Book To His Inside Pocket As We Entered The

Terra-Cotta Doorway Of St. Catarina,  "They'Re Not Anxious To Let A

Stranger Into The Know Of It." And This Conviction Remaining With Him,

Still Inspires The Senator With A Contemptuous Pity For The Porcine

Methods Of A People Who Refuse To Submit Them To The Light Of Day And

The Observation Of The World At Large.

Chapter 19

Her Mind. About The Senator'S She Would Not Commit Herself,  Beyond

Saying That We Had A Great Deal To Be Thankful For In That His Health

Hadn'T Suffered,  In Spite Of The Indigestibility Of That Eternal French

Twist And Honey That You Were Obliged On The Continent To Begin The Day

With. She Hoped,  I Think,  That The Senator Had Absorbed Other Things

Beside The French Twist Equally Unconsciously,  With Beneficial Results

That Would Appear Later. He Said Himself That It Was Well Worth

Anybody'S While To Make The Trip,  If Only In Order To Be Better

Satisfied With America For The Rest Of His Life,  But Why People

Belonging To The United States And The Nineteenth Century Should Want To

Spend Whole Summers In The Middle Ages He Failed To Understand. Both My

Parents,  However,  Looked Forward To Venice With Enthusiasm. Momma

Expected It To Be The Realization Of All Her Dreams,  And Poppa Decided

That It Must,  At All Events,  Be Unique. It Couldn'T Have Any Arno Or Any

Campagna In The Nature Of Things--That Would Be A Change--And It Was Not

Possible To The Human Mind,  However Sophisticated,  With A Livelong

Experience Of Street Cars And Herdics,  To Stroll Up And Take A Seat In

A Gondola And Know Exactly What Would Happen,  Where The Fare-Box Was And

Everything,  And Whether They Took Swiss Silver,  And If A Gentleman In a

Crowded Gondola Was Expected To Give Up His Seat To A Lady And Stand.

Poppa,  As A Stranger And Unaccustomed To The Motion,  Hoped This Would

Not Be The Case,  But I Knew Him Well Enough To Predict That If It Were

So He Would Vindicate American Gallantry At All Risks.

 

Thus It Was That,  From The Moment Momma Put Her Head Out Of The Car

Window,  After Mestre,  And Exclaimed,  "It'S Getting Wateryer And

Wateryer," Venice Was A Source Of The Completest Joy And Satisfaction To

Both My Parents. Dicky And I Took It With The More Moderate Appreciation

Natural To Our Years,  But It Gave Us The Greatest Pleasure To Watch The

Simple And Unrestrained Delight Of Momma And Poppa,  And To Revert,  As It

Were,  In Their Experience,  To What Our Own Enjoyment Might Have Been Had

We Been Born When They Were. "No Express Agents,  No Delivery Carts,  No

Baggage Checks," Murmured Poppa,  As Our Trunks Glided Up To The Hotel

Steps,  "But It Gets There All The Same." This Was The Keynote Of His

Admiration--Everything Got There All The Same. The Surprise Of It Was

Repeated Every Time Anything Got There,  And Was Only Dashed Once When We

Saw Brown-Paper Parcels Being Delivered By A Boy At The Back Door Of The

Palazzo Balbi,  Who Had Evidently Walked All The Way. The Senator

Commented Upon That Boy And His Groceries As An Inconsistency,  And

Thereafter Carefully Closed His Eyes To The Fact That Even Our Own

Hotel,  Which Faced Upon The Grand Canal,  Had Communications To The Rear

By Which Its Guests Could Explore A Large Part Of Commercial Venice

Without Going In a Gondola At All. The Canals Were The Only Highways He

Would Recognise,  And He Went Three Times To St. Maria Della Salute,

Which Was Immediately Opposite,  For The Sake Of Crossing The Street In

The Venetian Way. Momma Became Really Hopeful About The Stimulus To His

Imagination; She Told Him So. "It Appeals To You,  Alexander," She Said.

"Its Poetry Comes Home To You--You Needn'T Deny It;" And Poppa Cordially

Admitted It. "Yes," He Said,  "Ruskin,  According To The Guide-Book,

Doesn'T Seem As If He Could Say Too Much About This City,  And Bramley

Was Just The Same. They'Re Both Right,  And If We Were Going To Be Here

Long Enough I'D Be Like That Myself. There'S Something About It That

Makes You Willing To Take A Lot Of Trouble To Describe It. There'S No

Use Saying It'S The Canals,  Or The Reflections In The Water,  Or The

Bridges,  Or The Pigeons,  Or The Gargoyles,  Or The Gondolas----"

 

"Or Salviati,  Or Jesurum," Said Momma,  In Lighter Vein.

 

"Your Memory,  Augusta,  For The Names Of Old Masters Is Perfectly

Wonderful," Continued Poppa Placidly. "Or Salviati,  Or Jesurum,  Or What.

But There'S A Kind Of Local Spell About This Place----"

 

"There Are Various Kinds Of Local Smells," Interrupted Dicky,  Whom Mrs.

Portheris Still Evaded,  But This Levity Received No Encouragement From

The Senator. He Said Instead That He Hadn'T Noticed Them Himself. For

His Part He Had Come To Venice To Use His Eyes,  Not His Nose; And Dicky,

Thus Discouraged,  Faded Visibly Upon His Stem.

 

I Could See That Poppa Was Still Strongly Under The Influence Of The

Venetian Sentiment When He Invited Me To Go Out In a Gondola With Him

After Dinner,  And Pointedly Neglected To Suggest That Either Momma Or

Dicky Should Come Too. I Had A Presentiment Of His Intention. If I Have

Seemed,  Thus Far,  To Omit All Reference To Mr. Page In boston,  Since We

Left Paris,  It Is,  First,  Because I Believe It Is Not Considered

Necessary In a Book Of Travels To Account For Every Half Hour,  And

Second,  Because I Privately Believed Him To Be In correspondence With

The Senator The Whole Time,  And Hesitated To Expose His Duplicity. I Had

Given Poppa Opportunities For Confessing This Clandestine Business,  But

In His Paternal Wisdom He Had Not Taken Them. I Was Not Prepared,

Therefore,  To Be Very Responsive When,  From A Mere Desire To Indulge His

Sense Of The Fitness Of Things,  Poppa Endeavoured To Probe My Sentiments

With Regard To Mr. Page By Moonlight On The Grand Canal. To Begin With,

I Wasn'T Sure Of Them--So Much Depended Upon What Arthur Had Been Doing;

And Besides,  I Felt That The Perfect Confidence Which Should Exist

Between Father And Daughter Had Already Been A Good Deal Damaged At The

Paternal End. So When Poppa Said That It Must Seem To Me Like A Dream,

So Much Had Happened Since The Day Momma And I Left Chicago At

Twenty-Four Hours' Notice,  Six Weeks Ago,  I Said No,  For My Part I Had

Felt Pretty Wide Awake All The Time; A Person Had To Be,  I Ventured To

Add,  With No More Time To Waste Upon Southern Europe Than We Had.

 

"You Mean You'Ve Been Sleeping Pretty Badly," Said The Senator

Sympathetically.

 

"Where Was It," I Inquired,  "You Would Give Us Pounded Crabs And Cream

For Supper After We'D Been To Hear Masses For The Repose Of Somebody'S

Soul? That Was A Bad Night,  But I Don'T Think I'Ve Had Any Others. On

The Contrary."

 

"Oh,  Well," Said Poppa,  "It'S A Good Thing It Isn'T Undermining Your

Constitution," But He Looked As If It Were Rather A Disappointment.

 

"The American Constitution Can Stand A Lot Of Transportation," I

Remarked. "Railways Live On That Fact. I'Ve Heard You Say So Yourself,

Senator."

 

Then There Was An Interval During Which The Oars Of The Gondoliers

Dipped Musically,  And The Moon Made A Golden Pathway To The Marble Steps

Of The Palazzo Contarina. Then Poppa Said,  "I Refer To The Object Of Our

Tour."

 

"The Object Of Our Tour Wasn'T To Undermine My Constitution," I Replied.

"It Was To Write A Book--Don'T You Remember. But It'S Some Time Since

You Made Any Suggestions. If You Don'T Look Out,  The Author Of That

Volume Will Practically Be Momma."

 

The Senator Allowed Himself To Be Diverted. "I Think," He Said,  "You'D

Better Leave The Chapter On Venice To Me; You Can'T Just Talk Anyhow

About This City. I'Ll Write It One Of These Nights Before I Go To Bed."

 

"But The Main Reason," He Continued,  "That Sent Us To Glide This Minute

Over The Canal System Of The Bride Of The Adriatic Was The Necessity Of

Bracing You Up After What You'D Been Through."

 

"Well," I Said,  "It'S Been Very Successful. I'M All Braced Up. I'M Glad

We Have Had Such A Good Excuse For Coming." A Fib Is Sometimes Necessary

To One'S Self-Respect.

 

"_Premé!_" Cried The Gondolier,  And We Shaved Past The Gondola Of A

Solitary Gentleman Just Leaving The Steps Of The Hotel Britannia.

 

"That Was A Shave!" Poppa Exclaimed,  And Added Somewhat Inconsequently,

"You Might Just As Well Not Speak So Loud."

 

"I'Ve Always Liked Arty," He Continued,  As We Glided On.

 

"So Have I," I Returned Cordially.

 

"He'S In Many Ways A Lovely Fellow," Said Poppa.

 

"I Guess He Is," Said I.

 

"I Don'T Believe," Ventured My Parent,  "That His Matrimonial Ideas Have

Cooled Down Any."

 

"I Hope He May Marry Well," I Said. "Has He Decided On Frankie Turner?"

 

"He Has Come To No Decision That You Don'T Know About. Of Course,  I Have

No Desire To Interfere Where It Isn'T Any Of My Business,  But If You

Wish To Gratify Your Poppa,  Daughter,  You Will Obey Him In This Matter,

And Permit Arthur Once More To--To Come Round Evenings As He Used To. He

Is A Young Man Of Moderate Income,  But A Very Level Head,  And It Is The

Wish Of My Heart To See You Reconciled."

 

"Sorry I Can'T Oblige You,  Poppa," I Said. I Certainly Was Not Going To

Have Any Reconciliation Effected By Poppa.

 

"You'D Better Just Consider It,  Daughter. I Don'T Want To Interfere--But

You Know My Desire,  My Command."

 

"Senator," Said I,  "You Don'T Seem To Realise That It Takes More Than A

Gondola To Make A Paternal Doge. I'Ve Got To Ask You To Remember That I

Was Born In chicago. And It'S My Bed Time. Gondolier! _Albergo! Andate

Presto!_"

 

"He Seems To Understand You," Said Poppa Meekly.

 

So We Dropped Arthur--Dropped Him,  So To Speak,  Into The Grand Canal,

And I Really Felt Callous At The Time As To Whether He Should Ever Come

Up Again.

 

But The Senator'S Joy In Venice Found Other Means Of Expressing Itself.

One Was An Active And Disinterested Appeal To The Gondoliers To Be A

Little Less Modern In Their Costume. He Approached This Subject Through

The Guide With Every Gondolier In Turn,  And The Smiling Impassiveness

With Which His Suggestions Were Received Still Causes Him Wonder And

Disgust. "I Presume," He Remonstrated,  "You Think You Earn Your Living

Because Tourists Have Got To Get From The Accademia To St. Mark'S,  And

From St. Mark'S To The Bridge Of Sighs,  But That'S Only A Quarter Of The

Reason. The Other Three-Quarters Is Because They Like To Be Rowed There

In Gondolas By The Gondoliers They'Ve Read About,  And The Gondoliers

They'Ve Read About Wore Proper Gondoliering Clothes--They Didn'T Look

Like East River Loafers."

 

"They Are Poor Men,  These _Gondolieri_," Remarked The Guide. "They

Cannot Afford."

 

"I Am Not An Infant,  My Friend. I'M A Business Man From Chicago. It'S A

Business Proposition. Put Your Gondoliers Into The Styles They Wore When

Andrea Dandolo Went Looting Constantinople,  And You'Ll Double Your

Tourist Traffic In Five Years. Twice As Many People Wanting Gondolas,

Wanting Guides,  Wanting Hotel Accommodation,  Buying Your Coloured Glass

And Lace Flounces--Why,  Great Scott! It Would Pay The City To Do The

Thing At The Public Expense. Then You Could Pass A By-Law Forbidding

Gondoliering To Be Done In any Style Later Than The Fifteenth Century.

Pay You Over And Over Again."

 

Poppa Was In earnest,  He Wanted It Done. He Was Only Dissuaded From

Taking More Active Measures To Make His Idea Public By The Fact That He

Couldn'T Stay To Put It Through.