¶ 3 Leave a comment on paragraph 3 0 Rain, rain, drizzle, mud, slippery. A whole month of rainy bad weather, does not improve the appearance of the streets, or the tempers of those romancers who have dreamed a lifetime over fancy pictures of Italian skies, and balmy atmosphere the whole winter, to come here and find it worse than at home.
¶ 4 Leave a comment on paragraph 4 0 Sculptor Hart said to me,”I wish you to write home the facts about Italy, that Americans might not be so disappointed when they arrive”. Sunny Italy where we expect summer to last all winter has had, mother writes us, an eight inch fall of snow. And travellers [sic] say that Rome and Naples have already had snow. We begin to despair of finding continuous summer-
¶ 5 Leave a comment on paragraph 5 0 The Arno, muddy Arno, deep dark and swolen [sic] keeps up its ceaseless roar over the dam (a few feet high) a few rods below our windows, and the green cotton umbrellas of the natives pour through the streets almost a ceaseless torrent- Clatter! Clatter! rich and poor, have a fancy for one seated carts and plump ponies, some scarcely larger than Donkeys, all dashing along at a rolicking [sic] rate, the faster the better. No policeman notices them as they dash along through the crowded streets where the sidewalks are one, two, three, but seldom four feet wide-requiring one to keep a constantly anxious lookout to the front and read, for their “Ky high”! don’t sound until they are on you- Many of the gay little ponies wear bells. In fact throughout Europe one is seldom out of hearing of bells on some kind of Horses. Omnibus’s, cabs, buggis [sic], carts, or draughts-