ADVENTURES ON THE ROAD TO SYRACUSE. 
61 
is no post there, you scoundrel—no horses—nothing at all!” 
“ Da verro , signores, but these horses have done double duty; 
so they must be paid for, or they can’t go on !” This was 
too bad. “ Cospetto /” shrieked the Portuguese. “Exces¬ 
sively annoying !” said the Englishman. “ Great country !” 
said I—“ great country, gentlemen !” We unanimously de¬ 
termined that we would not pay for changing horses, when 
no such change was made. “ Go to the devil with your 
horses, then ; we won’t pay a cent more.” “ Va bene , se- 
nores !” replied the hostler, very coolly unhitching the horses, 
and leading them off to the stable. “ I’ll go to the devil to 
oblige you, signores ; but I can’t go to Syracuse till the half¬ 
way post is paid for. You will have to go on without horses, 
that’s all.” 
Here was a predicament ! The inhabitants of the classi¬ 
cal city of Lentini were pouring down from all the neighbor¬ 
ing streets to see the diligence that was bound to Syracuse 
without horses. Matrons with children in their arms held up 
their precious babes to see the sight; piratical-looking fellows 
gathered around and examined us with a deliberate and spec¬ 
ulative stare ; the little boys shouted merrily, and called the 
attention of all straggling acquaintances to the pole of the 
diligence that pointed toward Syracuse, but wouldn’t pull for 
want of horses ! What was to be done ? Go to the Mayor ? 
Perhaps there was none, and if there was, who knew the 
way ? “ Senores,” said the hostler, in a soothing tone, per¬ 
ceiving our distress of mind, “ you had better pay me, and 
allow me the pleasure of putting the horses in.” We con¬ 
sidered the advice, and took it. It was rather humiliating to 
our feelings; but we were hemmed in with difficulties on 
all sides; in vain we looked round upon the crowd ; not a 
sympathizing face was there ; not a soul to pity us in our 
misfortunes. The pervading sentiment seemed to be—“ Hit 
’em again ! they’ve got no friends !” There was one universal 
shout of laughter as the postillion cracked his whip, and drove 
us rattling out of Lentini. I turned to look back as we as¬ 
cended the hill, and caught a glimpse of the hostler, who was 
still bowing to us with the utmost gravity and politeness. If 
