The cantine of Mendrisio, for example, can be seen from
the railroad, all in a row, a little before one gets into the town;
they form a place of reunion where the village or town unites to
unbend itself on feste or after business hours. I do not know
exactly how they manage it, but from the innermost chamber of each
cantina they run a small gallery as far as they can into the
mountain, and from this gallery, which may be a foot square, there
issues a strong current of what, in summer, is icy cold air, while
in winter it feels quite warm. I could understand the equableness
of the temperature of the mountain at some yards from the surface
of the ground, causing the cantina to feel cool in summer and warm
in winter, but I was not prepared for the strength and iciness of
the cold current that came from the gallery. I had not been in the
innermost cantina two minutes before I felt thoroughly chilled and
in want of a greatcoat.
Having been shown the cantine, we took some of the little cups
which are kept inside and began to drink. These little cups are
common crockery, but at the bottom there is written, Viva Bacco,
Viva l'Italia, Viva la Gioia, Viva Venere, or other such matter;
they are to be had in every crockery shop throughout the
Mendrisiotto, and are very pretty. We drank out of them, and ate
the cray-fish which had been given us. Then seeing that it was
getting late, we returned together to Besazio, and there parted,
they descending to Ligornetto and we to Mendrisio, after a day
which I should be glad to think would be as long and pleasantly
remembered by our Italian friends as it will assuredly be by
ourselves.
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