A GARDEN IN VENICE 



was in eating the fifth hour of his supper on or 

 under the seat of some family boat. But our 

 Armstronger volunteered to light the fire, and 

 stoke and drive, and so we went. 



It was a lovely morning as I steered in the 

 clear night light through, and then away from, 

 the crowds of boats, and running alone out to 

 sea at San Nicoletto, we steamed gently along 

 the Lido eastern shore. 



Dawn broke as we got abreast the bathing- 

 places, and we saw a dark line stretching along 

 the sands, say perhaps a quarter of a mile in 

 length. We ran in to some sixty yards or so 

 from this line, and saw it was composed of people 

 motionless and silent, two or three in depth. The 

 dawn got lighter, and I turned to see in the east 

 behind me the first ray of the sun rising from 

 the Adriatic. Attracted by a noise, a rustle, and 

 a hum, I looked back shorewards. The dark 

 line had become pink and white. As the first 

 ray of the sun struck the water, as much of every 

 man's or woman's clothes as the law permitted 

 was left at their feet, and with a rush the peace 

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