“Six weeks after this, I saw a second example of this faculty of mute communication.  This was at Naples.  I was walking with a young man of Syracuse.  We passed by a sentinel.  The soldier and my companion exchanged two or three grimaces, which at another time I should not even have noticed, but the instances I had before seen led me to give attention.  ‘Poor fellow,’ sighed my companion.  ’What did he say to you?’ I asked.  ‘Well,’ said he, ’I thought that I recognized him as a Sicilian, and I learned from him, as we passed, from what place he came; he said he was from Syracuse, and that he knew me well.  Then I asked him how he liked the Neapolitan service; he said he did not like it at all, and if his officers did not treat him better he should certainly finish by deserting.  I then signified to him that if he ever should be reduced to that extremity, he might rely upon me, and that I would aid him all in my power.  The poor fellow thanked me with all his heart, and I have no doubt that one day or other I shall see him come.’  Three days after, I was at the quarters of my Syracusan friend, when he was told that a man asked to see him who would not give his name; he went out and left me nearly ten minutes.  ‘Well,’ said he, on returning, ‘just as I said.’  ‘What?’ said I.  ’That the poor fellow would desert.’”

After this there is an excuse for believing the tradition that the revolt called “the Sicilian Vespers,” in 1282, was arranged throughout the island without the use of a syllable, and even the day and hour for the massacre of the obnoxious foreigners fixed upon by signs only.  Indeed, the popular story goes so far as to assert that all this was done by facial expression, without even manual signs.

NEAPOLITAN SIGNS.

It is fortunately possible to produce some illustrations of the modern Neapolitan sign language traced from the plates of De Jorio, with translations, somewhat condensed, of his descriptions and remarks.

[Illustration:  Fig. 76.—­Neapolitan public letter-writer and clients.]

[Illustration:  Fig. 77.]

In Fig. 76 an ambulant secretary or public writer is seated at his little table, on which are the meager tools of his trade.  He wears spectacles in token that he has read and written much, and has one seat at his side to accommodate his customers.  On this is seated a married woman who asks him to write a letter to her absent husband.  The secretary, not being told what to write about, without surprise, but somewhat amused, raises his left hand with the ends of the thumb and finger joined, the other fingers naturally open, a common sign for inquiry.  “What shall the letter be about?” The wife, not being ready of speech, to rid herself of the embarrassment, resorts to the mimic art, and, without opening her mouth, tells with simple gestures all that is in her mind.  Bringing her right hand to her heart, with