There are Greek pots, too, and weapons, found at Tiriolo, a village high up on the mountain above Catanzaro.

As at Taranto, a stranger who cares for this kind of thing can be sure of having the museum all to himself.

On my first visit Don Pasquale accompanied me, and through him I made the acquaintance of the custodian.

But I was not in the museum mood; reviving health inclined me to the open air, and the life of to-day; I saw these musty relics with only a vague eye.
After living amid a malaria-stricken population, I rejoiced in the healthy aspect of the mountain folk.

Even a deformed beggar, who dragged himself painfully along the pavement, had so ruddy a face that it was hard to feel compassion for him.