Page:Littell's Living Age - Volume 129.djvu/37

Rh Bottiglia, who in those parts enjoyed a great reputation for sagacity and knowledge of the world, and who, according to his own account, was a man of much culture and refined education. He owed his nickname partly to an alleged penchant for drink and partly to the peculiarity of his figure. He was a wizened, wrinkled old man, who should by rights have been lean, but who, by a freak of nature, had become afflicted with a stomach of the bow-window order; so that with his long neck and spherical body, he did bear some resemblance to the bottles in which many of the South-Italian wines are kept. He lodged in Sorrento, and lived principally at the expense of his neighbours, contriving to accept favours in such a manner as to convey the impression that the donor was the obliged party.

To this astute person Luigi presented himself abruptly, one evening.

"Bottiglia," said he, "I want you to teach me to behave like a gentleman. How long will it take you, and what will you charge?"

"A gentleman, indeed!" exclaimed Bottiglia, looking up over his horn spectacles with infinite scorn. "Have you come into a fortune, then, Luigi Ratta?"

"What has that to do with it? I tell you what I want, and I offer to pay for it. If you don't like the job, or can't do it, say so, and I will go somewhere else."

"Gently, gently, my dear young friend; do not let us lose our tempers this warm weather. Well, I will do my best with you, and certainly you were right to come to me; perhaps there is no other man within twenty miles who could have helped you as I can. But what in the world you should wish to be like a gentleman for—you who are a simple fisherman, and never will be anything else"

"Never mind that, Bottiglia, Now what payment will you ask?"

Upon this question there was rather a lengthy discussion, each man trying to get the better of the other, after the time-honoured Italian fashion; but finally it was amicably arranged that Luigi should provide his preceptor with supper three times a week, on which occasions the latter was to give the benefit of his experience in the matter of deportment and polite conversation, while one evening in every week was to be devoted to the study of caligraphy and literature, at an outlay of one lira per lesson—the mental strain demanded from the teacher, on such occasions, being, as Bottiglia pointed out, excessive.

The compact was rigorously observed on both sides for a time; but it soon became evident that that part of it which related to the outward appearance and conduct of a gentleman was hardly likely to prove a success. Luigi, after practising bowing, handing a chair, leaving and entering a room, opening the door for a lady, and so forth, during three weeks, was fain to give it up as a bad job. He burst into a roar of laughter one night, when old Antonio was backing and posturing before him, and throwing himself into a chair, declared he would play the fool in this way no longer.

"It is no use, Bottiglia," he said. "You will never make me into a noble signor. I am as God created me, and so I must remain. After all, what does it signify whether a man bows in this way or in that, so that he does what is civil?"

"Alas! yes," sighed Antonio. "You cannot turn a thistle into a rose, or an ass (without meaning to be offensive to you) into an Arab steed. You are a common man, my poor Luigi—a very common man; and I fear that, as you say, there is little use in trying to refine you. Now to me, on the other hand, refinement and elegance are as a second nature; but then, to be sure, I am of noble descent. I could mention names among my relatives that would astonish you, were it not that boasting is a thing foreign to my temperament. But," continued Antonio, having an eye to his suppers, "it is early days to despair yet. Let us continue our course; perhaps in the end, I may yet make you presentable."

"No, no," answered Luigi; "it is a waste of time and trouble. You shall read to me instead, and improve my mind."

Bottiglia did not quite approve of this suggestion, which entailed a greater amount of exertion on his part than he had bargained for; but he gave in at length, in consideration of a somewhat increased allowance of wine, and thenceforth regularly produced, after supper, some greasy dog's-eared volume which he had picked up for a few soldi, and read from it, in a monotonous, sing-song voice, till his auditor was fast asleep—a consummation which it seldom took more than a quarter of an hour to effect. Sometimes it was Tasso, sometimes Ariosto, sometimes a novel, and sometimes a newspaper. It did not greatly signify; the result was always the same, and was considered equally satisfactory by both parties concerned.

Thus, in a slow, dogged fashion, Luigi