Better Even Than This Was The Journey By Gondola From The Terminal
Through Narrow Canals And Under Stone Bridges Where The Water
Lapped With Little Mouthing Tongues At The Walls, And The Tall,
Gloomy Buildings Almost Met Overhead, So That Only A Tiny Strip
Of Star-Buttoned Sky Showed Between.
And from dark windows high
up came the tinkle of guitars and the sound of song pouring from
throats of silver.
And so we came to our hotel, which was another
converted palace; but baptism is not regarded as essential to
salvation in these parts.
On the whole, Venice did not impress me as it has impressed certain
other travelers. You see, I was born and raised in one of those
Ohio Valley towns where the river gets emotional and temperamental
every year or two. In my youth I had passed through several of
these visitations, when the family would take the family plate and
the family cow, and other treasures, and retire to the attic floor
to wait for the spring rise to abate; and when really the most
annoying phase of the situation for a housekeeper, sitting on the
top landing of his staircase watching the yellow wavelets lap inch
by inch over the keys of the piano, and inch by inch climb up the
new dining-room wallpaper, was to hear a knocking at a front window
upstairs and go to answer it and find that Moscoe Burnett had come
in a john-boat to collect the water tax.
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