The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 01, No. 02, December, 1857: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and PoliticsVarious
History
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 01, No. 02, December, 1857: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
Various
American periodicals
In the spacious kitchen of Doctor Morani were assembled a body of
young rosy lasses in laced bodices, and short, bright-colored
petticoats, come down from the neighboring mountains for the
olive-gathering, much as Irish laborers cross over to England for the
hay-making season. These girls arrive in troops from their native
villages among the hills, carrying on their heads a sackful of the
flour of dried beans and a lesser quantity of dried chestnuts. They
offer their services to the inhabitants of the valley at the rate of
four pence English a day; about three pence less than the sum demanded
by the women of the place. But the pretty mountaineers ask, in
addition to their modest wages, a shelter for the night, a little
straw or hay for their beds, and a small daily portion of oil and salt
to season the bean-flour and chestnuts, which constitute their sole
food. They are then perfectly contented.
The old Doctor had hired several of these damsels to assist in getting
in his olive crop, with the customary additional compact to spin some
of the unwrought flax of the household when bad weather prevented
their out-of-door work, as well as regularly in the evening between
early dusk and bed-time. Happy those to whose lot it fell to be
employed by Dr. Morani! Besides not beating down their wages to the
utmost, it was the Doctor's wont, out of the exuberance of a
warm-hearted, joyous nature, unchilled even by his sixty winters, to
give to his serving men and maidens not only kind words and
encouraging looks, but also what made him perhaps still more popular,
humorous jokes and droll stories.
The Doctor, indeed, concealed something of the philosopher under the
garb of a wag. His quaint sayings and doings were frequently quoted
with great relish among this rural population. He had a way of his own
of shooting facts and truths into the uncultivated understandings of
these laborers,--facts and truths that never otherwise could have
penetrated so far; he feathered his philosophical or moral arrows with
a jest, and they stuck fast.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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