A Capillary Crime, and Other Stories — John Stuart Mill — John Shaqi
A Capillary Crime, and Other Stories
John Stuart Mill · en
The studio was in the fifth story of a large block not far from the
Porta del Popolo, and looked out upon a large portion of the city, the
view embracing the Pincio and St. Peter’s, Monte Mario, and the
Quirinal. The entrance on the street was dismal and prison-like. A long,
dark corridor led back to a small court at the bottom of a great pit
formed by the walls of the crowded houses, and the stones of the
pavement were flooded with the drippings from the buckets of all the
neighborhood, as they slid up and down the wire guys leading into the
antique well in one corner, and rattled and splashed until they were
drawn up by an unseen hand far above in the maze of windows and
balconies--an ingenious and simple way of drawing water, quite common in
Rome. From this sunless court-yard a broad, musty staircase twisted and
turned capriciously up past narrow, gloomy passages to the upper floors
of the house. At the fourth story began a narrow wooden staircase,
always perfumed with the odors of the adjacent kitchens; and it grew
narrower and steeper and more crooked until it met a little dark door at
the very top, bearing the name of Tyck. The suite of rooms which Tyck
occupied made up one of those mushroom-like wooden stories that are
lightly stuck on the top of substantial stone or brick buildings. They
add to the beauty of the silhouette, but detract from the dignity of the
architectural effect, and look like the cabin of a wrecked ship flung
upon the rocks. From the outside, quaint little windows, pretty hanging
gardens, or an airy _loggia_ make the place look cheerful and cosy.
Within, one feels quite away from the world; far up beyond neighbors and
enclosing walls, tossed on a sea of roofs, and with a broad sweep of the
horizon on every side. Such a perch is as attractive as it is difficult
to reach, and offers to the artist the advantages of light, quiet, and
perfect freedom. Tyck’s rooms were three in number. A narrow corridor
led past the door of the store-room to the studio--a large, square room
with a great window on the north side and smaller ones with shutters on
the east and west. From the studio a door opened into the chamber, in
turn connected with the store-room. Thus there was a public and a
private entrance to the studio.