Old Calabria By Norman Douglas














































































 - 

Here and there along this beach are fishermen's huts constructed of
tree-stems which are smothered under multitudinous ropes of - Page 62
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Here And There Along This Beach Are Fishermen's Huts Constructed Of Tree-Stems Which Are Smothered Under Multitudinous Ropes Of Grass, Ropes Of All Ages And In Every Stage Of Decomposition, Some Fairly Fresh, Others Dissolving Once More Into Amorphous Bundles Of Hay.

There is a smack of the stone ages, of primeval lake-dwellings, about these shelters on the deserted shore;

Two or three large fetichistic stones stand near their entrance; wickerwork objects of dark meaning strew the ground; a few stakes emerge, hard by, out of the placid and oozy waters. In such a cabin, methinks, dwelt those two old fishermen of Theocritus - here they lived and slumbered side by side on a couch of sea moss, among the rude implements of their craft.

The habits of these fisherfolk are antique, because the incidents of their calling have remained unchanged. Some people have detected traces of "Greek" in the looks and language of these of Tarante. I can detect nothing of the kind.

And the same with the rest of the population. Hellenic traits have disappeared from Tarante, as well they may have done, when one remembers its history. It was completely latinized under Augustus, and though Byzantines came hither under Nicephorus Phocas - Benjamin of Tudela says the inhabitants are "Greeks" - they have long ago become merged into the Italian element. Only the barbers seem to have preserved something of the old traditions: grandiloquent and terrible talkers, like the cooks in Athenasus.

I witnessed an Aristophanic scene in one of their shops lately, when a simple-minded stranger, a north Italian - some arsenal official - brought a little boy to have his hair cut "not too short" and, on returning from a brief visit to the tobacconist next door, found it cropped much closer than he liked.

"But, damn it," he said (or words to that effect), "I told you not to cut the hair too short."

The barber, immaculate and imperturbable, gave a preliminary bow. He was collecting his thoughts, and his breath.

"I say, I told you not to cut it too short. It looks horrible - - " "Horrible? That, sir - pardon my frankness! - is a matter of opinion. I fully admit that you desired the child's hair to be cut not too short. Those, in fact, were your very words. Notwithstanding, I venture to think you will come round to my point of view, on due reflection, like most of my esteemed customers. In the first place, there is the ethnological aspect of the question. You are doubtless sufficiently versed in history to know that under the late regime it was considered improper, if not criminal, to wear a moustache. Well, nowadays we think differently. Which proves that fashions change; yes, they change, sir; and the wise man bends to them - up to a certain point, of course; up to a certain reasonable point - - " "But, damn it - - "

"And in favour of my contention that hair should be worn short nowadays, I need only cite the case of His Majesty the King, whose august head, we all know, is clipped like that of a racehorse.

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