It was a keeping to make the worst believe in
their merit, and we were not the worst. Outside, the environment
flattered or rewarded us with a garden of laurel and other evergreens,
and with flower-beds where the annuals were beginning to show the
gardener's designs in their sprouting seeds. Beyond these ample villa
bounds a tram-car murmured to and from the well-removed city, and beyond
its track lay a line of open-air theatres and variety shows and bathing
establishments, as at our own Atlantic City, but here in enduring
masonry instead of the provisional wood of our summer architecture.
This festive preparation intimated the watering-place supremacy which
Leghorn enjoys in Italy, and which must make our quiet hotel in the
season glisten and twitter and flutter with the vivid national life. The
preparation includes a delightful drive by the seashore, with groves and
gardens, to the city gate and indefinitely beyond it, which we one day
followed as far as an old fort, where a little hotel had nestled with
every promise of simple comfort.
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