the nearest point on the coast to Cosenza, which has interest in
abundance; by landing here I make a modestly adventurous beginning
of my ramble in the South. At Paola foreigners are rare; one may
count upon new impressions, and the journey over the hills will be
delightful.

Were I to lend ear to the people with whom I am staying, here in the
Chiatamone, I should either abandon my project altogether or set
forth with dire misgivings. They are Neapolitans of the better
class; that is to say, they have known losses, and talk of their
former happiness, when they lived on the Chiaia and had everything
handsome about them. The head of the family strikes me as a typical
figure; he is an elderly man, with a fine head, a dignified
presence, and a coldly courteous demeanour. By preference he speaks
French, and his favourite subject is Paris. One observes in him
something like disdain for his own country, which in his mind is
associated only with falling fortunes and loss of self-respect. The
cordial Italian note never sounds in his talk. The _signora_ (also a
little ashamed of her own language) excites herself about taxation
--as well she may--and dwells with doleful vivacity on family
troubles. Both are astonished at my eccentricity and hardiness in
undertaking a solitary journey through the wild South. Their
geographical notions are vague; they have barely heard of Cosenza or
of Cotrone, and of Paola not at all; it would as soon occur to them
to set out for Morocco as for Calabria. How shall I get along with
people whose language is a barbarous dialect? Am I aware that the
country is in great part pestilential?--_la febbre_! Has no one
informed me that in autumn snows descend, and bury everything for
months? It is useless to explain that I only intend to visit places
easily accessible, that I shall travel mostly by railway, and that