THE $30,000 BEQUEST and Other Stories by Mark Twain

enlarged the King at the Italian hospital. With a banquet, I suppose.

An English banquet has that effect. Further:

Il ritorno dei Sovrani

a Roma

ROMA, 24, ore 22,50.–I Sovrani e le Principessine Reali si attendono

a Roma domani alle ore 15,51.

Return of the sovereigns to Rome, you see. Date of the telegram,

Rome, November 24, ten minutes before twenty-three o’clock. The

telegram seems to say, “The Sovereigns and the Royal Children expect

themselves at Rome tomorrow at fifty-one minutes after fifteen o’clock.”

I do not know about Italian time, but I judge it begins at midnight

and runs through the twenty-four hours without breaking bulk.

In the following ad, the theaters open at half-past twenty.

If these are not matinees, 20.30 must mean 8.30 P.M., by my reckoning.

Spettacolli del di 25


ALFIERI.–Compagnia drammatica Drago–(Ore 20,30)–LA LEGGE.

ALHAMBRA–(Ore 20,30)–Spettacolo variato. SALA EDISON–

Grandiosoo spettacolo Cinematografico: QUO VADIS?–Inaugurazione della

Chiesa Russa–In coda al Direttissimo–Vedute di Firenze con

gran movimeno–America: Transporto tronchi giganteschi–I ladri

in casa del Diavolo–Scene comiche. CINEMATOGRAFO–Via Brunelleschi

n. 4.–Programma straordinario, DON CHISCIOTTE–Prezzi populari.

The whole of that is intelligible to me–and sane and rational, too–

except the remark about the Inauguration of a Russian Chinese.

That one oversizes my hand. Give me five cards.

This is a four-page paper; and as it is set in long primer leaded

and has a page of advertisements, there is no room for the crimes,

disasters, and general sweepings of the outside world–thanks be!

Today I find only a single importation of the off-color sort:

Una Principessa

che fugge con un cocchiere

PARIGI, 24.–Il MATIN ha da Berlino che la principessa

Schovenbare-Waldenbure scomparve il 9 novembre. Sarebbe partita

col suo cocchiere.

La Principassa ha 27 anni.

Twenty-seven years old, and scomparve–scampered–on the 9th November.

You see by the added detail that she departed with her coachman.

I hope Sarebbe has not made a mistake, but I am afraid the chances

are that she has. SONO DISPIACENTISSIMO.

There are several fires: also a couple of accidents. This is

one of them:

Grave disgrazia sul Ponte Vecchio

Stammattina, circe le 7,30, mentre Giuseppe Sciatti, di anni 55,

di Casellina e Torri, passava dal Ponte Vecchio, stando seduto sopra

un barroccio carico di verdura, perse l’ equilibrio e cadde al suolo,

rimanendo con la gamba destra sotto una ruota del veicolo.

Lo Sciatti fu subito raccolto da alcuni cittadini, che, per mezzo

della pubblica vettura n. 365, lo transporto a San Giovanni di Dio.

Ivi il medico di guardia gli riscontro la frattura della gamba

destra e alcune lievi escoriazioni giudicandolo guaribile in 50

giorni salvo complicazioni.

What it seems to say is this: “Serious Disgrace on the Old

Old Bridge. This morning about 7.30, Mr. Joseph Sciatti, aged 55,

of Casellina and Torri, while standing up in a sitting posture

on top of a carico barrow of vedure (foliage? hay? vegetables?),

lost his equilibrium and fell on himself, arriving with his left

leg under one of the wheels of the vehicle.

“Said Sciatti was suddenly harvested (gathered in?) by several citizens,

who by means of public cab No. 365 transported to St. John of God.”

Paragraph No. 3 is a little obscure, but I think it says that

the medico set the broken left leg–right enough, since there

was nothing the matter with the other one–and that several

are encouraged to hope that fifty days well fetch him around

in quite giudicandolo-guaribile way, if no complications intervene.

I am sure I hope so myself.

There is a great and peculiar charm about reading news-scraps in a

language which you are not acquainted with–the charm that always goes

with the mysterious and the uncertain. You can never be absolutely

sure of the meaning of anything you read in such circumstances;

you are chasing an alert and gamy riddle all the time, and the

baffling turns and dodges of the prey make the life of the hunt.

A dictionary would spoil it. Sometimes a single word of doubtful

purport will cast a veil of dreamy and golden uncertainty over a

whole paragraph of cold and practical certainties, and leave steeped

in a haunting and adorable mystery an incident which had been vulgar

Page: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135

Categories: Twain, Mark