Gaunt, low-spirited dogs prowled about in search of food, and always ran away at my approach.

In one precipitous by-way, where the air was insupportably foul, I came upon an odd little scene: a pig and a cat, quite alone, were playing together, and enjoying themselves with remarkable spirit.

The pig lay down in the running mud, and pussy, having leapt on to him, began to scratch his back, bite his ears, stroke his sides.

Suddenly, porker was uppermost and the cat, pretending to struggle for life, under his forefeet.

It was the only amusing incident I met with at Squillace, and the sole instance of anything like cheerful vitality.
Above the habitations stand those prominent ruins which had held my eye during our long ascent.