[More on Venice, from Paul Fatout's version of "The Vandal" (in Mark Twain Speaking: 30]

And have you seen the gondolas and heard the romantic gondolier sing -- as only the romantic gondolier can sing -- according to the romances? I have heard the romantic gondoliers sing -- we had just entered Venice at eight in the evening and were floating away toward the hotel. We were poking dismally around in the shadows among long rows of towering untenanted buildings, and were very sad and disheartened and disappointed -- for this was not the Venice we had expected. It was at such a time as this that this ragged barefooted guttersnipe turned up and began to sing, true to the traditions of his race.

I stood it for about five minutes -- and then I said:

"Look here, Roderigo Gonzales Michael Angelo -- Smith -- I'm a pilgrim and I'm a stranger but I'm not going to stand any such caterwauling as that! If this thing goes on one of us has got to take water. It is enough that my cherished dreams of Venice have been blighted forever, without taxing your talents to make the matter worse. Another yelp out of you and overboard you go!"