Some of the trees were covered with catkins, and others had already burst into green leaf; gorgeous yellow genistas clothed the hillsides, and the banks were dappled with blue borage and marigolds.

There were so many things to look at from either window of the tram; goats were feeding along the crags, and a gray businesslike battle-ship was wending its way across the harbor in the direction of Naples.

They passed through several small towns or villages, getting a vivid impression of the lives of the inhabitants, who, on sunny days, seemed to do much of their domestic work out of doors, and to peel potatoes, wash salads, cook on charcoal braziers, sew, mend shoes, make lace, and pursue many other vocations on the pavements in front of the houses, and so far from being disturbed by onlookers, would smile and even wave friendly hands at the strangers on the tramcar.
"That darling old soul in the green apron blew me a kiss," chuckled Delia.

"She looks as happy as a queen, though she's probably living on about ten cents a day." "Did you see them dressing the baby on the pavement ?" squealed Stella.
"They were winding it round and round in yards of bandages _exactly_ like old Italian pictures.

I didn't know it was done nowadays." "Oh! Look at the carts drawn by bullocks." "And the lamb with its fleece all combed out and tied with blue ribbons." "That's because it's Mid-Lent." "Don't you see the baby donkey?
There! Quick!" In her efforts to watch everything at once Delia craned her neck through the window of the car and away went her school hat, sailing over a bridge and down into a deep ravine below, lost forever so far as she was concerned, as the tram certainly would not stop and wait while she searched for it.
"You've come down a peg in life, old sport, that's all," laughed Carrie.