But poppa declined to go as far as that.
Alessandro, as we drove round and up the winding roads that take one to
the top of Genoa--the hotels and the palaces and the churches are mostly
at the bottom--was full of joyous and rapid information. Especially did
he continue to be communicative on the subject of Christopher Columbus,
and if we are not now assured of the school that discoverer attended in
his youth, and the altar rails before which he took the first communion
of his early manhood, and the occupation of his wife's parents, and
many other matters concerning him, it is the fault of history and not
that of Alessandro Bebbini. After a cathedral and a palace and a long
drive, this was bound to have its effect, and I very soon saw resentment
in the demeanour of both my parents. So much so, that when we passed the
family group in memory of Mazzini, and Alessandro explained dramatically
that "the daughter he sitta down and cryo because his father is a-dead,"
poppa said, "Is that so?" without the faintest show of excitement, and
momma declined even to look round.
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