The Island of San Lazzaro 
an inch or so in diameter, some of them 
arched and some laid purlin-fashion, all 
tied together with wythes and tied in the 
same way to square wooden posts set upright 
in the ground. The arched form reduces 
any shadow cast on the vegetable beds along¬ 
side, so exaggerated in the usual type of 
Italian pergola. So the gardens receive 
the full benefit of the sunshine. 
We explored further, past the basin of the 
artesian well, the barns, and to “Lord 
Byron’s olive trees,” so called because there he 
used to sit “to meditate and write.” Near 
by, at the foot of the campanile—now unfor¬ 
tunately used as the storehouse for firewood 
and so blocked up that it is impossible to 
ascend—a wood pde fifty feet high!—is the 
friars’ graveyard. There are “no names 
written down, no stories with epitaphs. 
.They pass like leaves beaten by 
the frost of the cold season; a heap of earth 
covers their fall and all trace is gone.” 
To us, that September day, there was a 
singular charm about these gardens. We 
loitered through the long afternoon and 
regretfully left them. Perhaps the all-per¬ 
vading tranquillity and the gold of the warm 
sunshine lent their share, for on a later day, 
under gray clouds in a blustering west wind, 
the lagoon all white-caps, the gardens seemed 
naked and deserted. The old cypresses 
groaned in the wind, and it was with diffi¬ 
culty we returned at all to the city. Our 
gondola pounded heavily on every wave 
and the wind caught the long sides and 
high decorative metal at the bow with a lev¬ 
erage that sorely taxed our oarsman in the 
stern. We rapidly neared a lee shore. One’s 
rowing knowledge proved useless, but the 
gondolier unaided did what seemed miracu¬ 
lous, and thoroughly drenched, from a boat 
heavy with water, we landed at the Lido, 
with a thorough sense of enjoyment of our 
San Lazzaro visit. 
02 
