When we were already twenty minutes late, there stepped into the carriage where I was sitting a good-humoured railway official, who smiled and greeted me.

I supposed he wanted my ticket, but nothing of the kind.

After looking all round the compartment with an air of disinterested curiosity, he heaved a sigh and remarked pleasantly to me, "_Non manca niente_"-- "Nothing is amiss." Five minutes more and we steamed away.
The railway ascended a long valley, that of the Esaro, where along the deep watercourse trickled a scarce perceptible stream.

On either hand were hills of pleasant outline, tilled on the lower slopes, and often set with olives.

Here and there came a grassy slope, where shepherds or goatherds idled amid their flocks.