The bait now offered was too tempting. I measured my respectable and
somewhat obese friend carefully with my eye, for a moment, and then
hurled this terrible fact at him:--
"We have some rivers three thousand miles long."
The effect was awful. He stood and stared at me, as if petrified, for a
moment. Then the blood rushed into his face, and, turning on his heel,
he took off his hat, said suddenly, "_Buona sera_," and carried my fact
and his opinions together up into his private room. I am afraid that
Don Pietro decided, on consideration, that I had been taking
unwarrantable liberties with him, and exceeding all proper bounds, in
my attempt to impose on his good-nature. From that time forward he
asked me no more questions about America.
And here, by the way, I am reminded of an incident, which, though not
exactly pertinent, may find here a parenthetical place, merely as
illustrating some points of Italian character. One fact and two names
relating to America they know universally,--Columbus and his discovery
of America, and Washington.
"_Si, Signore_," said a respectable person some time since, as he was
driving me to see a carriage which he wished to sell me, and therefore
desired to be particularly polite to me and my nation,--"a great man,
your Vashintoni! but I was sorry to hear, the other day, that his
father had died in London.
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