What stalwart
creatures they are! What shoulders, bosoms, and backs they have! what a
chance for the lungs under those stout _busti_! and what finished and
elegant heads! They are certainly cast in a large mould, with nothing
belittled or meagre about them, either in feature or figure.
Early in the morning you will see streaming through the streets or
gathered together in picturesque groups, some standing, some couching
on the pavement, herds of long-haired goats, brown and white and black,
which have been driven, or rather which have followed their shepherd,
into the city to be milked. The majestical, long-bearded, patriarchal
rams shake their bells and parade solemnly round,--while the silken
females clatter their little hoofs as they run from the hand of the
milker when he has filled his can. The shepherd is kept pretty busy,
too, milking at everybody's door; and before the fashionable world is
up at nine, the milk is gone and the goats are off.
You may know that it is May by the orange and lemon stands, which are
erected in almost every piazza. These are little booths covered with
canvas, and fantastically adorned with lemons and oranges intermixed,
which, piled into pyramids and disposed about everywhere, have a very
gay effect.
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