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ng peasants i●ncreased to a stream of humanity ▓against which I struggled to make my way. ▓ Swept into the backwater of the human curr●ent, I cornered a workman and inquire

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d fo▓r Naples. “Napoli! Ma! This is Napoli▓!” he bellowed, shoving me aside. I plunged ▓on, certain that a descending road must lead to▓ the harbor and its sailors’

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lodgings.Rag●ged, sullen-visaged laborers▓, now and then an unsoaped female, swep●t against me.Donkeys laden and unlade●n protested against the goads of their cursing ●maste

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rs.Heavy ox-carts, massive wagons, an oc▓casional horseman, fought their▓ way up the acclivity, amid a bedlam of▓ shrill shouts, roaring oaths●, the strident ye

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e-hawing of asses, ▓the rumble of wheels on cobblesto●nes, the snap of whips, the ●resounding whack of cudgels; and before a●nd behind a bawling multitude fill●ed the scene that resembled nothing more● nearly than the hurried flight of it

s di●abolical inhabitants from that inferno w●hich the Florentine has pictured.It was lo●ng after my first inquiry fo●r “Napoli” that I reached level s▓treets and was dragged into a d●ismal hovel by a boarding-house runne●r.Fifty-five

days had passed since my● departure from Paris, thirty-four of ●which had been spent in walking. If there ▓is a spot of similar size in the civilize●d world that houses more rascals, ▓knaves, and degenerates than Naples, it has ●succes

sfully hidden its iniquities.The struggle▓ for existence in this densely packed secti●on of the peninsula has driven its lower classes▓ in one of two directions: they have become s●tolid, unthinking brutes or inco●rrigible rogues.Even those

who, by day, are em●ployed at professions consid●ered honorable and remunerative among u▓s, spend their nights and idl●e hours as agents of every species of business ▓and deception to be found in conge●sted centers.Every steamship office,

every ▓restaurant, every hotel, shop, gambling den, or ▓house of prostitution has its scores of “runner●s” to entice the stranger or unwary citizen w●ithin its doors.We have “runners”● in America, but these procurers that fight fo●r a

meager percentage in Naple●s are not merely the dregs of city life; even t▓he man who has left his telegra▓ph instrument or bookkeeper’s stool during▓ the afternoon prowls through the dark st▓reets in quest of a stray soldo.The b▓arber r

oams at large to drag int▓o his shop those whose faces show need o●f his services; the merchant stands before● his door and bawls and beckons to the▓ passing throng like a side-show barke●r; the ticket-agent tramps up ▓and down the wharve

s striving to sell p▓assage, at regular price if necessary▓; at an exorbitant one if possible.7▓5To cheat is second nature to the Neapolit▓an of the masses.He cheats his playmat●es as a boy, cheats the shopkeeper at every ▓opportunity, en

ters business as a▓ man intending to cheat, and▓ sticks to that intention with a persisten●ce worthy a better cause to t▓he end of his days—to be cheated by the un●dertaker and the priest at the fi●nale of his life of deception▓ and fra

ud.Yet this same Naples, corrup●t, Machiavelian, is, with its enviro▓ns, the breeding-ground of the vast majority ▓of Italians who emigrate to America. ● As is usual among poverty-stri▓cken people, gambling is the principal vice o▓f the

southern Italian.Cards and dice are no●t unknown, but the game that is● dearest to the heart of the Neapolitan▓ is mora, the counting of fingers.The● sharp call of “cinque! tre! otto! tr▓e! dieci!” raised a never-ending hub▓bub in my l

odging house.The ●sums of money hazarded were not fabulous▓; but had there been fortunes at s●take the game could not have been more fierce●ly contended.Each player, at the beginnin●g of the contest, jabbed his sheath▓-knife into the bott

om of the table wit●hin easy reach of his hand, and a▓t every dispute waved it threate▓ningly above his head.A quarr▓el, one evening, went beyond the▓ point of vociferations.One player emerged ▓from the contest with a slash from nose to c

h▓in, and another with an ugly cut in● the abdomen.But so ordinary a▓n occurrence was this in the house that ●a half-hour later the game was raging as loudly● as before. One fine morning, soon after ●my arrival in Naples, I awoke t●o

find myself the possessor o●f just twenty francs.Thus far I▓ had been a tourist; for, if ●I had spent sparingly, I had given my attention ▓to sightseeing rather than to search▓ing for employment.Having squandered ●in un-riotous living the

money int▓ended for photographing, the● time had come when I must earn b●oth the living and the photogra●phs. It had been my intention to● ship as a sailor from Naples to some po●int of the near east.The cosmopo●litan dock loafers as

sured me, however,▓ that there was but one port on the Med▓iterranean in which I might hope to sign o●n, and that was Marseilles.The information ●had come too late, for the fare to Marseille▓s as a deck passenger—and that includ●ed no fo

od en route—was twenty-five ●francs.To be left stranded i●n Naples, however, was a fate t▓o be dreaded.I determined to take passage as f▓ar as possible, namely, to Ge▓noa, and to make my way as best I could from▓ there to the great Frenc

h port. By playing r▓ival runners against each other, I reduced the ▓regular fare of twelve francs▓ to nine francs and a cigar, the stogie being▓ the commission of the runner.▓ With a day left at my disposal I ruined 76my ●misused shoe

s among the lava-beds of Vesuvius●, slept on a park bench to save the price of● a lodging, and was rowed out to th▓e Lederer Sandor, a miserable carg▓o-steamer hailing from Trieste.●She did not sail until a full● twenty-four hours after t

he time set, ●and my stock of bread and dried co●dfish gave out while we were ▓but halfway to Genoa.I had n●oted, however, that, the ship’s b▓usiness being chiefly the carrying of freight, l▓ittle watch was kept on the passengers.●Upon

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n having made my way thus fa▓r in spite of a flat purse, the● first mate, a native of Trieste, ●sought me out on deck. “What is▓ your name” he asked, in It●alian, waving in his hand a bundle of tickets, ●each of which bore the signature ●of its purchaser. Plainly my ●ruse was discovered; but, hoping to● confuse the discoverer, I answered in English.▓ But to no avail.For this young man, who ●swore at the sailors in German a●nd cursed longshoremen impartially in Itali●an and French, spoke English▓ almost without an accent.I had bar●ely mentioned my name when he burst out in m▓y own tongue:— “What are you doi▓ng on board Your ticket is only to Genoa.” ▓“Yes!” I stammered, “but I want t▓o get to Marseilles and I hav●en’t the price.” “No fault of our▓s, is it” demanded the off▓icer.“Your ticket reads Genoa.Yo▓u will have to pay the price fr●om Genoa to Nice.” “Haven’t got the half o●f it,” I protested. The mate ▓stared at me a moment in silence and hurr●ied away to attend to more pressing ●affairs.Whether he forgo

t my existen●ce purposely or by accident,▓ I know not; he was busy on the bridge until o●ur arrival at Nice and, by d●ropping over the bow to the wharf as dusk f●ell, I dodged the vigilant eyes of● both ship and custom officers and hurried away,▓ once more in “la belle France.” Ital▓ian peasants returning from the vineyards to ▓the village A factory of red roof▓-tiles near Naples.The girl works from daylight▓ to dark for sixteen cent

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s I ros●e next morning with a one-fra▓nc piece in silver and a five-franc note, both i▓n Italian currency.The silver passed as● readily as a French 77coin and, fan▓cying the paper would be as eagerly ac●cepted, I did not trouble to● change it into coin of the republic before set▓ting out on the hundred and f●ifty mile tramp to Marseilles.Th●e last sou of the silver piece had been spent w●hen I arrived at Cannes in the eve▓ning.I turned in at an auberge of the famous sp▓a and tendered an Italian note in payment for a● lodging. “Non d’un chien●! We don’t take Italian pape●r!” cried the aubergiste, with great vehemence.● “a ne vaut rien du tout. 癖 I visited several other i●nns and such shops as were still open, bu▓t the

note I could not pass, even at a● discount.I found myself in the parad●oxical situation of being pennile▓ss with money in my pocket.A chill ▓wind blew in from the Mediter●ranean.I sat down on a step out of range of ▓the village lights, but soon fell to shiv●ering and rose to wander on.Dow▓n on the sandy b

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