footed, and carrying, admirably poised upon her head,
a large pitcher of water, with another of equal size supported on
her hip; in her other hand she bore the coarse broad-brimmed straw
hat which was in general her protection from the sun. Her costume
consisted of a petticoat of scarlet and blue-striped cotton, with a
bodice or stay of a different colour, from beneath which appeared the
white sleeves of the shift, reaching to the elbow, where they were
fastened in and terminated with a frill, much as is seen in engravings
of Raphael's Fornarina; around the throat and shoulders was a
handkerchief, so scrupulously adjusted as barely to disclose the coral
necklace, without which even the poorest contadina would think her
everyday attire incomplete. There was often much beauty in the face set
off by this picturesque equipment, for, however worn and sunburnt it
might be, it could usually boast of jet-black tresses, dark vivacious
eyes, well-cut features, and the whitest possible teeth. The welcome,
too, was pleasing—no constraint, no bashfulness, but a straightforward,
hospitable simplicity that won its way immediately to the heart. We
were perfectly at liberty to come in and look about us, ask questions,
and rest ourselves, and were secure of giving unbounded delight if,
on coming away, we purchased fruit or eggs to the value of a few
_baiocchi_.

After one or two visits of this nature, we were quite on a footing
of intimacy, and the mother and children would seat themselves round
us, to indulge in a little conversation. If we chanced to come on a
_festa_, or when the daily toil was over, the circle would be increased
by the father and his grown-up sons, who, in their rough but not
unmusical peasant dialect, plied me with inquiries about the country I
came from, and its peculiarities, such as whether we had a moon there,
and what the people ate. In a fashion they had all heard of England,
as a wonderfully rich and large _city_; but its inhabitants being
heathens, was what had principally impressed itself upon thei