“This is actually buona fortuna,” said a poor working-man to me, as he sat resting on a piece of timber on the bank, “because all wood which is not marked, belongs to him who fishes it up; and now every poor family round the lake can lay up enough for his winter-supply. Look what I have caught!” and he pointed, with beaming eyes, to a little pile of wood and boughs, which he had laid together on the shore.
The timber-fishing continued the whole day, spite of the rain, which again began. As the day wore on, the Piedmontese soldiery appeared on the shore, to defend the property of the great timber-owners. The soldiers behaved extremely well, and did not prevent the fishing. Boys and girls ran into the water, snatching at the large fish; they are all bare legged, and all are gay, and chatter and shout and laugh; the girls are even handsome, with a sunny light in their dark eyes; but there is a sunny light in the whole of this scene, as if it were some kind of folk's festival. Even the little children have their part in it. The fathers take up their little ones, who are sitting on the banks, and kiss and caress them, as I never before saw fathers caress their infants, and as if they would say, “Now we shall have fire under the pot to boil the potatoes, thou jewel!” And the bambinos are charming little things, as they sit or lie there, half-naked and merry. I did not see a single one crying. In the mean time a violent quarrel arises amongst the fishing men about a piece of timber, and they scream, and threaten, and gesticulate, as if they were ready to murder one another, but they do not come to blows, the quarrel evaporates in fierce words and gestures.
- Vol. I.—24
