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Updated: November 26, 2025


Herr Ritter laid down his three big volumes on a table that was absolutely littered from end to end with old manuscripts and curious fossilised-looking tomes in vellum covers. "Ah, 'Giorno, Herr!" said the gentleman, looking up from his book; "what is that?"

The day these two spent gondoliering through the waterways, where romance hides in every nook, is imaginatively narrated in tone in Nevin's suite, "Un Giorno in Venezia," a book more handsomely published even than the others of his works, which have been among the earliest to throw off the disgraceful weeds of type and design formerly worn by native compositions.

An hour later, Assunta, going to find a spade in the tool-house, for she was transplanting roses, came upon the Signorina's caller of yesterday standing near the tool-house with something in his hand. The peasant woman's face showed neither awe nor fear; only lively curiosity gleamed in the blinking brown eyes. "Buon' giorno," said Apollo, exactly as mortals do.

I say, Lorton," he added, addressing me, "I think that's one to me, eh?" "All right," said I, "score it up, if you like." And, we started down the stream homeward bound. Era gia l'ora che volge 'l disio, A' naviganti e 'ntenerisce il cuore, Lo di ch' ban detto a' dolci amici addio, E che lo nuova peregrin d'amore Punge, se ode Squilla di lontano, Che paja 'l giorno pianger che si muore!

I allude to the libellous epitaph which the Capuchins at Damascus had inscribed on the stone erected over an opening in which some bones of animals had been put. The inscription, which had been copied by two monks, was in the Italian and Arabic language, as follows: "Qui riposano le ossa del P^re Tomaso da Sardegna Miss^o Cappuccino assassinato dagli Ebrei il giorno 5 de Febraro l'anno 1840."

"Buon giorno, Good-day to you," said a voice behind, in an accent slightly but unmistakably foreign, and a strange-looking figure presented itself at the stile.

Then nothing would do but Luisa must admire his fine plumage, and his father must declare that he was quite the finest pigeon he had ever seen. It took the combined force of the family to consider what message they should send old Paolo in the morning, and, after a great deal of discussion, Giovanni's stiff old hand penned the simple words on a bit of paper: "Buon giorno!"

He got to his feet, shaking himself, rubbed his eyes sleepily, and took from her hand the dead branch which she was dragging to the fire. Between them they awoke Cleofonte, who lumbered to his feet and stared about with bleary eyes. "Bon giorno, Signora Signor. I have slept oh, what sleep! Luigi! Up with you. Dio! It is already day." Immediately the camp was in commotion.

But on your word I would cross the palace from one end to the other, though it were lighted a giorno, as the Italians say." "You have my word," replied Roland, "so follow me without fear." Morgan needed no encouragement; he followed his guide fearlessly. At the head of the stairs Roland turned down a corridor equally dark, went twenty steps, opened a door, and entered his own room.

Salvatore stood by him, smiling at him, Salvatore with bare feet, and a fish-basket slung over his arm. "Buon giorno, Salvatore!" he answered, with an effort. Salvatore looked at Maurice's cigarette, put down the basket, and sat down on the seat by Maurice's side. "I haven't smoked to-day, signore," he began. "Dio mio! But it must be good to have plenty of soldi!" "Ecco!"

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