in danger of being capsized by their numbers,
you think of self-preservation, and grasping hold
of some green and slimy steps, you cling there, like
Crusoe to his rock; then, after many efforts, having
lost your hat, and scarified your knees, and torn
your nails, you at length stand on the pier.
So much for yourself. As to your baggage,
it has been already divided into as many lots as there
are articles; you have a porter for your portmanteau,
a porter for your dressing-case, a porter for
your hat-box, a porter for your umbrella, a porter
for your cane. If there are two of you, that
makes ten porters; if three, fifteen; as we were four,
we had twenty. A twenty-first wished to take
Milord (the dog,) but Milord, who permits no liberties,
took him by the calf, and we had to pinch his
tail till he consented to unlock his teeth. The
porter followed us, crying that the dog had lamed him,
and that he would compel us to make compensation.
The people rose in tumult; and we arrived at the
Pension Suisse with twenty porters before
us, and a rabble of two hundred behind.
“It cost us forty francs
for our portmanteaus, umbrellas, and
canes, and ten francs for
the bitten leg.[1] In all, fifty
francs for about fifty steps.”—P.
59.
[1] This was not the only case of compensation made out against this travelling companion. “Milord,” says our tourist, “in his quality of bulldog, was so great a destroyer of cats, that we judged it wise to take some precautions against overcharges in this particular. Therefore, on our departure from Genoa, in which town Milord had commenced his practices upon the feline race of Italy, we enquired the price of a full-grown, well-conditioned cat, and it was agreed on all hands that a cat of the ordinary species—grey, white, and tortoiseshell—was worth two pauls—(learned cats, Angora cats, cats with two heads or three tails, are not, of course, included in this tariff.) Paying down this sum for two several Genoese cats which had been just strangled by our friend, we demanded a legal receipt, and we added successively other receipts of the same kind, so that this document became at length an indisputable authority for the price of cats throughout all Italy. As often as Milord committed a new assassination, and the attempt was made to extort from us more than two pauls as the price of blood, we drew this document from our pocket, and proved beyond a cavil that two pauls was what we were accustomed to pay on such occasions, and obstinate indeed must have been the man or woman who did not yield to such a weight of precedent.”
This was on his landing at Livorno: on his departure he gives us an account, equally graphic, of the vetturini:—