img The Wheat Princess  /  Chapter 4 No.4 | 15.38%
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Chapter 4 No.4

Word Count: 1141    |    Released on: 01/12/2017

oad below the town, and the contadini in the wayside vineyards had stopped their work to stare, and had repeated to each other rumours of the fabulous wealth this signor principe was said to po

there were not trees enough already in the Sabi

t to Castel Vivalanti, and with unvarying eloquence he nightly recounted the story to an interested group of loungers in the trattoria kitchen: of how he had made the omelet without garlic because princes have delicate stomachs and cannot eat the food one would cook for ordinary men; of how they had sat at that very table, and the young signorina principessa, who was bea

elf to be cheated from stupidity, not generosity. For his part, he thought the devil was the same, whether he talked American or Italian. But it was reported, on the other hand, that Bianca Rosini had also talked with the fore

ounter-evidence as this. 'Smiles are cheap,' he returned

fy that they had run by the side of the carriage fully a kilometre asking for

umph. 'American princes are like any others-perhaps a l

cts at hand to c

with a fresh piece of news; his son, Tarquinio, who

e wheat in the land and he put it in storehouses. He is holding it there now while the price goes up-up-up. And when the poor people in Italy get very, very hungry, and are ready to pay whatever he asks, then perhaps-very charitably-he will agree to se

orted that the American's horses and carriages had come out from Rome, and that the drivers had stopped at the inn of Sant' Agapito and ordered wine like gentlemen. It

reckless man to venture on so important a journey on Friday-and particularly in Lent. It is well known that if a poor man starts for market on Friday, he will break his eggs on the way; and because a rich man has no egg

nodded ap

and it will not be the part of wisdom for him to add to the account. Apoplexies are as likely to fall on pri

ack from the villa and turned toward Palestrina, obviously bound for the station. All the ragazzi of Castel Vivalanti waited

more gently. The black-haired little Italian boys told how he had laughed when they turned somersaults by the side of the carriage, and how he had c

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