- looking Palermo. The old guide knew the proprietor,
who waited on us himself, and tried hard to give satisfaction. We had macaroni cooked in Italian style, fish, wine, and quite a hearty lunch, but the charge for four of us—including the guide and driver—was a little less than $1.40. Then we went on up the mountain to a wonderful old church in a wonderful old town, the name of which I have forgotten. It was a feast day of some kind, and a great celebration was being held in the wonderful old town. The streets were packed with the merrymakers, and all sorts of hawkers were selling all sorts of articles that were queer to us. On our way down the mountain we saw a wonderful valley devoted to lemon orchards. The owner of one of these orchards lived several years in St. Louis, and, knowing we were Americans, invited us to see his lemon crop. The lemons were just ready to pick, and the yield was very good, apparently. The proprietor told me he had twelve acres; that the land was worth $1,000 an acre; and that all of his lemons were shipped to the United States. He was much interested in a rumor that the new president, Mr. Wilson, would remove the duty on lemons, but I was compelled to confess I did not know anything about it. As it was Sunday, all of the farmer's family, including his wife and children, and hired men followed us about. There were two boys in the family, and they climbed trees, and loaded Adelaide down with various kinds of fruit. The lemon orchard, I noticed, is irrigated, but neither the proprietor nor the guide could tell me where the water came from. Usually it comes from wells, and is raised with sweeps turned by donkeys and horses. . . . We
