Galantuomini loafing at most of the corners, smoking clay pipes with cane stems, and the great Jew shopkeeper's nose just visible from a distance as he stands in the door of his dingy den.

Dirtier and dirtier grow the cobble stones as you go on.

Brighter and brighter the huge bunches of red peppers fastened by every window, thicker and thicker on the upper walls and shaky balconies the black melons and yellowish grey cantelopes hung up to keep in the high fresh air, each slung in a hitch of yarn to a nail of its own.
Here and there some one greets you.

What have you to sell?
Will you take a cargo of pears?
Good this year, like all the fruit.

The figs and grapes will not be dry for another month.