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〃How much for this？〃 I ask。
〃One franc； signor；〃 says the proprietor； with a polite bow； holding up one finger。
I shake my head； and intimate that that is altogether too much； in fact； preposterous。
The proprietor is very indifferent； and shrugs his shoulders in an amiable manner。 He picks up a fair； handsome orange； weighs it in his hand； and holds it up temptingly。 That also is one； franc。
I suggest one sou as a fair price； a suggestion which he only receives with a smile of slight pity； and； I fancy； a little disdain。 A woman joins him； and also holds up this and that gold…skinned one for my admiration。
As I stand； sorting over the fruit； trying to please myself with size； color； and texture； a little crowd has gathered round； and I see； by a glance； that all the occupations in that neighborhood； including loafing； are temporarily suspended to witness the trade。 The interest of the circle visibly increases； and others take such a part in the transaction that I begin to doubt if the first man is； after all； the proprietor。
At length I select two oranges； and again demand the price。 There is a little consultation and jabber； when I am told that I can have both for a franc。 I； in turn； sigh； shrug my shoulders； and put down the oranges； amid a chorus of exclamations over my graspingness。 My offer of two sous is met with ridicule； but not with indifference。 I can see that it has made a sensation。 These simple； idle children of the sun begin to show a little excitement。 I at length determine upon a bold stroke； and resolve to show myself the Napoleon of oranges； or to meet my Waterloo。 I pick out four of the largest oranges in the basket； while all eyes are fixed on me intently； and； for the first time； pull out a piece of money。 It is a two…sous piece。 I offer it for the four oranges。
〃No； no； no； no； signor！ Ah； signor！ ah； signor！〃 in a chorus from the whole crowd。
I have struck bottom at last； and perhaps got somewhere near the value； and all calmness is gone。 Such protestations； such indignation； such sorrow； I have never seen before from so small a cause。 It cannot be thought of； it is mere ruin！ I am； in turn； as firm； and nearly as excited in seeming。 I hold up the fruit； and tender the money。
〃No； never； never！ The signor cannot be in earnest。〃
Looking round me for a moment； and assuming a theatrical manner； befitting the gestures of those about me； I fling the fruit down； and； with a sublime renunciation； stalk away。
There is instantly a buzz and a hum that rises almost to a clamor。 I have not proceeded far； when a skinny old woman runs after me； and begs me to return。 I go back； and the crowd parts to receive me。
The proprietor has a new proposition； the effect of which upon me is intently watched。 He proposes to give me five big oranges for four sous。 I receive it with utter scorn； and a laugh of derision。 I will give two sous for the original four； and not a centesimo more。 That I solemnly say； and am ready to depart。 Hesitation and renewed conference； but at last the proprietor relents； and； with the look of one who is ruined for life； and who yet is willing to sacrifice himself； he hands me the oranges。 Instantly the excitement is dead； the crowd disperses； and the street is as quiet as ever； when I walk away； bearing my hard…won treasures。
A little while after； as I sat upon the outer wall of the terrace of the Camaldoli； with my feet hanging over； these same oranges were taken from my pockets by Americans； so that I am prevented from making any moral reflections upon the honesty of the Italians。
There is an immense garden of oranges and lemons at the village of Massa； through which travelers are shown by a surly fellow； who keeps watch of his trees； and has a bulldog lurking about for the unwary。 I hate to see a bulldog in a fruit orchard。 I have eaten a good many oranges there； and been astonished at the boughs of immense lemons which bend the trees to the ground。 I took occasion to measure one of the lemons； called a citron…lemon； and found its circumference to be twenty…one inches one way by fifteen inches the other；about as big as a railway conductor's lantern。 These lemons are not so sour as the fellow who shows them： he is a mercenary dog； and his prices afford me no clew to the just value of oranges。
I like better to go to a little garden in the village of Meta； under a sunny precipice of rocks overhung by the ruined convent of Camaldoli。 I turn up a narrow lane； and push open the wooden door in the garden of a little villa。 It is a pretty garden； and； besides the orange and lemon…trees on the terrace； it has other fruit…trees； and a scent of many flowers。 My friend； the gardener； is sorting oranges from one basket to another； on a green bank； and evidently selling the fruit to some women； who are putting it into bags to carry away。
When he sees me approach； there is always the same pantomime。 I propose to take some of the fruit he is sorting。 With a knowing air； and an appearance of great mystery； he raises his left hand； the palm toward me； as one says hush。 Having dispatched his business； he takes an empty basket； and with another mysterious flourish； desiring me to remain quiet； he goes to a storehouse in one corner of the garden； and returns with a load of immense oranges； all soaked with the sun； ripe and fragrant； and more tempting than lumps of gold。 I take one； and ask him if it is sweet。 He shrugs his shoulders； raises his hands； and； with a sidewise shake of the head； and a look which says； How can you be so faithless？ makes me ashamed of my doubts。
I cut the thick skin； which easily falls apart and discloses the luscious quarters； plump； juicy； and waiting to melt in the mouth。 I look for a moment at the rich pulp in its soft incasement； and then try a delicious morsel。 I nod。 My gardener again shrugs his shoulders； with a slight smile； as much as to say； It could not be otherwise； and is evidently delighted to have me enjoy his fruit。 I fill capacious pockets with the choicest； and； if I have friends with me； they do the same。 I give our silent but most expressive entertainer half a franc； never more； and he always seems surprised at the size of the largesse。 We exhaust his basket； and he proposes to get more。
When I am alone； I stroll about under the heavily…laden trees； and pick up the largest； where they lie thickly on the ground； liking to hold them in my hand and feel the agreeable weight； even when I can carry away no more。 The gardener neither follows nor watches me； and I think perhaps knows； and is not stingy about it； that more valuable to me than the oranges I eat or take away are those on the trees among the shining leaves。 And perhaps he opines that I am from a country of snow and ice； where the year has six hostile months； and that I have not money enough to pay for the rich possession of the eye； the picture of beauty； which I take with me。
FASCINATION
There are three places where I should like to live； naming them in the inverse order of preference；the Isle of Wight； Sorrento； and Heaven。 The first two have something in common； the almost mystic union of sky and sea and shore； a soft atmospheric suffusion that works an enchantment； and puts one into a dreamy mood。 And yet there are decided contrasts。 The superabundant； soaking sunshine of Sorrento is of very different quality from that of the Isle of Wight。 On the island there is a sense of home； which one misses on this promontory； the fascination of which； no less strong； is that of a southern beauty； whose charms conquer rather than win。 I remember with what feeling I one day unexpectedly read on a white slab； in the little inclosure of Bonchurch； where the sea whispered as gently as the rustle of the ivy…leaves； the name of John Sterling。 Could there be any fitter resting…place for that most； weary； and gentle spirit？ There I seemed to know he had the rest that he could not have anywhere on these brilliant historic shores。 Yet so impressible was his sensitive nature； that I doubt not； if he had given himself up to the enchantment of these coasts in his lifetime； it would have led him by a spell he could not break。
I am sometimes in doubt what is the spell of Sorrento； and half believe that it is independent of anything visible。 There is said to be a fatal enchantment about Capri。 The influences of Sorrento are not so dangerous； but are almost as marked。 I do not wonder that the Greeks peopled every cove and sea…cave with divinities； and built temples on every headland and rocky islet here； that the Romans built upon the Grecian ruins； that the ecclesiastics in succeeding centuries gained possession of all the heights； and built convents and monasteries； and set out vineyards； and orchards of olives and oranges； and took root as the creeping plants do； spreading themselves abroad in the sunshine and charming air。 The Italian of to…day does not willingly emigrate； is tempted by no seduction of better fortune in any foreign clime。 And so in all ages the swarming populations have clung to these shores； filling all the coasts and every nook in these almost inaccessible hills with life。 Perhaps the delicious climate