{"product_id":"2940013691773","title":"The Old and the Young","description":"THE rain, which had fallen in torrents during the night, had churned\u003cbr\u003einto a quagmire the long highroad that wound, in a succession of\u003cbr\u003etwists and turns, as though in search of some less laborious ascent,\u003cbr\u003esome less abrupt slope, over the broken surface of the vast, deserted\u003cbr\u003eplain.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe damage done by the storm appeared all the more depressing,\u003cbr\u003einasmuch as there were already signs, here and there, of the\u003cbr\u003edisregard, not to say the contempt, shewn for the labours of those who\u003cbr\u003ehad planned and constructed the road in order to give their fellow-men\u003cbr\u003ean easier passage over the natural obstacles of the country by means\u003cbr\u003eof those bends and coils, erecting now a retaining wall, now a dyke.\u003cbr\u003eThe retaining walls had fallen, the dykes had been trampled down,\u003cbr\u003ewhere short cuts had come into being. It was drizzling still\u003cbr\u003eintermittently, in the pale dawn, between the icy gusts that blew over\u003cbr\u003efrom the west. And at every gust, over that strip of countryside that\u003cbr\u003ewas just beginning now to emerge from the wet blackness of a night of\u003cbr\u003estorm, a long shudder seemed to run from the town, a huddled mass of\u003cbr\u003eyellowish houses, standing aloft and shrouded on its height, and to\u003cbr\u003epass over hill and dale, over the plain that bristled still with\u003cbr\u003eblackened stubble, to the boiling, crested sea beyond.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eRain and wind seemed a ruthless act of cruelty on the part of the sky\u003cbr\u003ethat overhung the desolation of those uttermost tracts of Sicily, upon\u003cbr\u003ewhich Girgenti, amid the piteous ruins of its primeval existence, rose\u003cbr\u003ea silent and awed survivor in the void of a time that would bring no\u003cbr\u003echanges, in the abandonment of a misery beyond repair.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe thickset hedges of prickly pear, or of withered brambles, or of\u003cbr\u003eagave, and the occasiorial crumbling walls were interrupted here and\u003cbr\u003ethere by a pair of tottering pillars supporting a crooked rusty gate,\u003cbr\u003eor by a rude and squalid shrine which, in the motionless solitude,\u003cbr\u003ewatched over by the shaggy boughs of the dripping trees, instead of\u003cbr\u003ecomfort inspired a certain sense of terror, posted there as they were\u003cbr\u003eto recall the Faith to wayfarers--for the most part field labourers\u003cbr\u003eand carters--who all too often, with overt or concealed ferocity, made\u003cbr\u003eit plain that they did not recall it. A wretched stray bird or two\u003cbr\u003ehad come, fluttering timidly with drenched wings, to perch upon them;\u003cbr\u003ethese kept watch and did not venture to titter so much as a note of\u003cbr\u003elamentation in the midst of such desolation.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFor some time Placido Sciaralla's aged white mare had been ploughing\u003cbr\u003eand splashing along this road, under the friendly encouragement of her\u003cbr\u003eweary rider, who sat, his hands stiff and purple with the cold,\u003cbr\u003ecowering beneath the wind and rain, in the gay uniform of a Bourbon\u003cbr\u003esoldier: red breeches and a blue greatcoat.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Courage, Titina!\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd the tassel of his fisherman's cap, his fatigue uniform, hanging\u003cbr\u003edown in front, swayed from side to side, as though beating time to the\u003cbr\u003epoor animal's weary trot.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOf the infrequent wayfarers who passed him by, on foot or mounted upon\u003cbr\u003esluggardly donkeys, any who did not know that Principe Don Ippolito\u003cbr\u003eLaurentano, proud and unswerving in his loyalty to the late Government\u003cbr\u003eof the Two Sicilies, retained on his domain of Colimbetra (to which\u003cbr\u003eever since 1860 he had banished himself in shame and disgust) a\u003cbr\u003ebodyguard of five and twenty men in the Bourbon uniform, would turn\u003cbr\u003eround in amazement and stop for a while to gaze at this grotesque\u003cbr\u003ephantom emerging from the moist glimmer of daybreak, without knowing\u003cbr\u003ewhat to make of him.","brand":"WDS Publishing","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":47083148214512,"sku":"2940013691773","price":0.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0737\/7593\/9824\/files\/2940013691773_p0.jpg?v=1763584047","url":"https:\/\/shop-qa.barnesandnoble.com\/products\/2940013691773","provider":"Barnes \u0026 Noble (DEV)","version":"1.0","type":"link"}