Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - I. Youth
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how many miracles he had done and how
beautiful he was, all of solid silver. There was an
uncomfortable silence.
“Yes, they say their San Costanzo is of solid
silver,” ejaculated Annarella with a contemptible
shrug of her broad shoulders, “but who knows,
chi lo sa?” As to his miracles you could count
them on the top of your fingers, while
Sant’Antonio, the patron saint of Anacapri had already
done over a hundred. Altro che San Costanzo!
I was at once all for Sant’Antonio, hoping with
all my heart for a new miracle of his to bring
me back as soon as possible to his
enchanting village. Kind Annarella’s confidence in
the miraculous power of Sant’Antonio was so
great that she refused point-blank to accept any
money.
“Pagherete un’altra volta, you will pay me
another time.”
“Addio Annarella, addio Gioconda!”
“Arrividerla, presto ritorno, Sant’Antonio vi
benedica! La Madonna vi accompagni!”
Old Mastro Vincenzo was still hard at work
in his vineyard, digging deep furrows in the
sweet-scented soil for the new vines. Now and
then he picked up a slab of coloured marble or
a piece of red stucco and threw it over the wall,
‘Roba di Timberio,’ said he. I sat down on a
broken column of red granite by the side of my
new friend. Era molto duro, it was very hard
to break, said Mastro Vincenzo. At my feet a
chicken was scratching in the earth in search of
a worm and before my very nose appeared a coin.
I picked it up and recognized at a glance the
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