We came away almost immediately after, so
that rose will bloom in my memory, until I forget about it, among
romances that might have been.
Strolling back, we bought a Venetian secret for a sou or two, a
beautiful little secret, I wonder who first found it out. A picturesque
and fishy smelling person in a soft felt hat sold it to us--a pair of
tiny dainty dried sea-horses, "_mere_" and "_pere_" he called them. And
there, all in the curving poise of their little heads and the twist of
their little tails, was revealed half the art of Venice, and we saw how
the first glass worker came to be told to make a sea green dragon
climbing over an amber yellow bowl, and where the gondola borrowed its
grace. They moved us to unanimous enthusiasm, and we utterly refused to
let Dicky put one in his button-hole.
It is looking back upon Venice, too, that I see the paternal figure of
the Senator nourishing the people with octopuses. This may seem
improbable, but it is strictly true. They were small octopuses, not
nearly large enough to kill anybody while they were alive, though boiled
and pickled they looked very deadly.
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