Half-way across the storied and fabled
plain the rain stopped and the fog lifted, and then we saw by day, as we
had already seen by night, how the Vega was plentifully dotted with
white cottages amid breadths of wheat-land where the peasants were
plowing. Here and there were fields of Indian corn, and in a certain
place there was a small vineyard; in one of the middle distances there
spread a forest of Lombardy poplars, yellow as gold, and there was
abundance of this autumn coloring in the landscape, which grew lonelier
as we began to mount from the level. Olives, of course, abounded, and
there were oak woods and clumps of wild cherry trees. The towns were far
from the stations, which we reached at the rate of perhaps two miles an
hour as we approached the top of the hills; and we might have got out
and walked without fear of being left behind by our train, which made
long stops, as if to get its breath for another climb. Before this the
sole companion of our journey, whom we decided to be a landed proprietor
coming out in his riding-gear to inspect his possessions, had left us,
but at the first station after our descent began other passengers got
in, with a captain of Civil Guards among them, very loquacious and very
courteous, and much deferred to by the rest of us.
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