Military life in Italy : sketches - Societa italiana di storia militare

THE SON OF THE REGIMENT. 1
03
swamps, beyond which we could see gleaming
in the distance
a bit of the lagoon, and beyond the lagoon, Venice. It
appeared to us, as if
through a thick mist, pale blue in color,
which gave
it a delicate and mysterious appearance. To the
left, that light, enormous bridge to the
; right, away in the dim
distance, the fort of San Giorgio ;
and farther still, other forts
scattered along the lagoons, which looked like black specks.
It was an enchanting spectacle
! The place all around was
deserted ;
and a light breeze that was blowing, rustling strongly
through the neighboring trees, was the only sound to be heard.
No one spoke ;
all were absorbed in the contemplation of
Venice.
" " Come, now ! suddenly shouted one of my companions, a
jolly good fellow, rather too much given
to the bottle and to
sprees, if you will, but as nice as possible.
" Come, now,
don't let 's
stop here and get
"
drop of wine ?
sentimental. Who will have a
Some one shouted "I," and the others assented with their
heads. Carluccio ran to the inn, and we seated ourselves on
the edge of the dyke turned toward Venice.
" "
Here is the consoler of the afflicted !
exclaimed my
friend, pointing to the wine which arrived at that moment.
" Take hold of the bottle and up with the "
glasses !
It is well
known that we military men do not mind a drop more or less
when we are in company ;
we tipple with our eyes shut ;
so it
is not to be wondered at if after a few moments some felt in
the mood for singing.
" I say, Paduan, teach us a beautiful barcarolle, you who
know so many and shriek them into our ears from morning
until night, whether we wish to hear them or not."