man's education and wishes me to acquire a Continental polish. My
ability to tell you all this shows that I have at least made progress
with the languages, although I have doubts about the practical value
of anything else I have learned. Martel has taught me Italian; I have
taught him English. We use both, and sometimes we understand each
other. My three years are up now, and once I have seen my good friend
safely married I shall return to America and begin the serious
business of life."

"You are then in business? My mother's cousin, Alfio Amato, is
likewise a business man. He deals in fruit. Beware of him, for he
would sell you rotten oranges and swear by the saints that they were
excellent."

"Like Martel, I have land which I lease. I am, or I will be, a
cotton-planter."

This opened a new field of inquiry for the priest, who was making the
most of it when the train drew into a station and was stormed by a
horde of chattering country folk. The platform swarmed with vividly
dressed women, most of whom carried bundles wrapped up in variegated
handkerchiefs, and all of whom were tremendously excited at the
prospect of travel. Lean-visaged, swarthy men peered forth from the
folds of shawls or from beneath shapeless caps of many colors; a pair
of carabinieri idled past, a soldier in jaunty feathered hat posed
before the contadini. Dogs, donkeys, fowls added their clamor to the
high-pitched voices.

Twilight had settled and lights were kindling in the village, while
the heights above were growing black against a rose-pink and