In such a cabin, methinks, dwelt those two old fishermen of
Theocritus--here they lived and slumbered side by side on a couch of sea
moss, among the rude implements of their craft.

The habits of these fisherfolk are antique, because the incidents of
their calling have remained unchanged. Some people have detected traces
of "Greek" in the looks and language of these of Tarante. I can detect
nothing of the kind.

And the same with the rest of the population. Hellenic traits have
disappeared from Tarante, as well they may have done, when one remembers
its history. It was completely latinized under Augustus, and though
Byzantines came hither under Nicephorus Phocas--Benjamin of Tudela says
the inhabitants are "Greeks"--they have long ago become merged into
the Italian element. Only the barbers seem to have preserved something
of the old traditions: grandiloquent and terrible talkers, like the
cooks in Athenasus.

I witnessed an Aristophanic scene in one of their shops lately, when a
simple-minded stranger, a north Italian--some arsenal official--brought
a little boy to have his hair cut "not too short" and, on returning
from a brief visit to the tobacconist next door, found it cropped much
closer than he liked.

"But, damn it," he said (or words to that effect), "I told you not to
cut the hair too short."

The barber, immaculate and imperturbable, gave a preliminary bow. He was
collecting his thoughts, and his breath.