But besides all this, I was always
writing in periodical publications of all sorts, English and American,
to such an extent that I should think the bulk of it, if brought
together, would exceed that of all the many volumes I am answerable
for. No! my life in that Castle of Indolence--Italy--was not a
_far-niente_ one!
We were great at picnics in those Florence days. Perhaps the most
favourite place of all for such parties was Pratolino, a park
belonging to the Grand Duke, about seven miles from Florence, on the
Bologna road. These seven miles wave almost all more or less up hill,
and when the high ground on which the park is situated has been
reached, there is a magnificent view over the Val d'Arno, its thousand
villas, and Florence, with its circle of surrounding hills.
There was once a grand ducal residence there, which was famous in
the later Medicean days for the multiplicity and ingenuity of its
water-works. All kinds of surprises, picturesque and grotesque
effects, and practical jokes, had been prepared by the ingenious, but
somewhat childish skill of the architect. Turning the handle of a
door would produce a shower-bath, sofas would become suddenly boats
surrounded by water, and such like more or less disagreeable surprises
to visitors, who were new to the specialties of the place. But all
this practical joking was at length fatal to the scene of it. The
pipes and conduits got out of order, and eventually so ruined the
edifice that it had to be taken down, and has never been replaced.
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