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Updated: June 7, 2025
The boat had reached a place near the rocks that was good ground for frutti di mare. Vere had often seen the divers in the Bay of Naples at their curious toil. Yet it never ceased to interest her. She had a passion for the sea, and for all things connected with it. Now she leaned a little lower over the wall, with her eyes fixed on the boat and its occupants.
She stood behind her counter in the Biggest Store; and as you closed your hand over the tape-line for your glove measure you thought of Hebe; and as you looked again you wondered how she had come by Minerva's eyes. When the floorwalker was not looking Masie chewed tutti frutti; when he was looking she gazed up as if at the clouds and smiled wistfully.
"Certainly he is. Dio mio, the boy at least is a Neapolitan." "No, he isn't." "He is not?" "He's a Sicilian." "How do you know?" "I was here the other day when he was diving for frutti di mare." "I have seen him at the Mergellina ever since he was a child." "He says he is a Sicilian." "Boys like that say anything if they can get something by it.
Now, about my party." "Have a good one while you're about it. I might import a Spanish Ballet " "You might do nothing of the sort! This is to be my party, and I shall run it to suit myself." "All right, Tutti Frutti; you have no subtlety or poetry in your soul indeed, I doubt if you have a soul but you're a dear and a sweet " "Bill, I've an idea!
Groups were always encircling him; searching, half-anxious glances greeted his. An eager hunt after smiles and greetings accompanied the hunt for tutti frutti. But the minister confined his attentions to Marianne, chafing under the eagerness of his desires, though bearing them with good grace, as if he were really the lover of the pretty girl.
"Yes," he said, throwing away the match he had been using; "and the influence of this morning roused her to joy. What was it?" "She was very excited watching a diver for frutti di mare." "A boy about seventeen or eighteen, black hair, Arab eyes, bronze skin, a smile difficult to refuse, and a figure almost as perfect as a Nubian's, but rather squarer about the shoulders?"
"Yes. The men are diving for frutti di mare, aren't they?" Vere nodded. "The men are nothing. But there is a boy who is wonderful." "Why? What does he do?" "He stays under water an extraordinary time. Now wait. Have you got a watch, Madre?" "Yes." "Take it out, there's a darling, and time him. I want to know there he is! You see!" "Yes." "Have you got your watch? Wait till he goes under!
In 1834 the prince published two books, Tutti Frutti, a collection of stories and sketches, and Observations on Landscape-Gardening. Tutti Frutti was by no means so popular as the Briefe eines Verstorbenen, but the Observations took rank as a standard work.
They pressed each other to eat, drank to the health of their friends in Moscow, clapped their hands at the waiter for a delicious dish of fish, and kept asking him for live frutti di mare; the waiter shrugged his shoulders and scraped with his feet, but when he had left them, he shook his head and once even muttered with a sigh, poveretti!
"Ah, madame," said the Prince Champvilliers, of Palais Royale, corner of Seventy-third Street, "as Montesquiaux says, 'Rien de plus bon tutti frutti' Youth seems your inheritance. You are to-night the most beautiful, the wittiest in your own salon. I can scarce believe my own senses, when I remember that thirty-one years ago you " "Saw it off!" says the Duchess peremptorily.
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