File:Italy (1907) (14763409871).jpg

Identifier: italy00finn (find matches)
Title: Italy
Year: 1907 (1900s)
Authors: Finnemore, John, b. 1863
Subjects: Italy -- Description and travel
Publisher: London : A. and C. Black
Contributing Library: New York Public Library
Digitizing Sponsor: MSN

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ow was itlikely, she asked, that a little boy of fourteen couldcompose music fit for her to sing ? The music wasshown her. She tried it over, and her astonishmentwas complete. It was lovely, and she was now eagerto take the part. The first night came, and the operawas given. It was a triumphant success, and the vastand delighted audience cheered to the very echo thelittle boy who came forward to make his bow as thecomposer of the opera. Leaving the city for the plains, we find Lombardya land full of charm. The road winds by hills clothedwith chestnut and tulip trees, and crested with cypressand olive. Campaniles and towers shine white fromamid the bright green of the vineyards, and under thehedges trail the broad leaves of the water-melon, halfshading the great fruit swelling in the sun. Then theroad turns under a dark portal in old grey walls,and enters an ancient town, and wanders through it,and out into the open country again. On every hand lie the holdings of peasant or farmer, 16
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THE VILLA PLINY LAKE COMO. TO. The Lombard Plain and the busy North Italian is to be seen in his fieldsfrom dawn to dark, tending his many crops. Hereand there long lines of mulberry-trees are growing,for the rearing of silkworms is a great industry ofLombardy. This business is not so prosperous as itformerly was. Disease made dreadful ravages amongboth the silkworms and the mulberry-trees some half-century ago, and almost killed the silk industry. Ithas now recovered to a large extent, but the profits arenothing like so large as they used to be. Another blow at the pocket of the Lombard peasantwas a blight which affected the vines, and destroyedalmost all the vineyards of Lombardy. A new stockof hardier vines has now been planted, and the winetrade is making way steadily. But of all the terrors of the North Italian farmer,none is so dreadful as hail. Sometimes, on a summerday, when the crops are in full growth and everythinglooks promising for a plentiful harvest, a vast blackcloud d

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