Giacomo Bertoli of Varallo-Sesia keeps a watch and clock shop in the
street. He is a cheery little old gentleman, though I do not see why I
should call him old for I doubt his being so old as I am. He and I have
been very good friends for years and he is always among the first to
welcome me when I go to Varallo.
He is one of the most famous bee-masters in Europe. He keeps some of his
bees during the winter at Camasco not very far from Varallo, others in
other places near and moves them up to Alagna, at the head of the Val
Sesia, towards the end of May that they may make their honey from the
spring flowers—and excellent honey they make.
About a fortnight ago I happened to meet him bringing down ten of his
hives. He was walking in front and was immediately followed by two women
each with crates on their backs, and each carrying five hives. They
seemed to me to be ordinary deal boxes, open at the top, but covered over
with gauze which would keep the bees in but not exclude air. I asked him
if the bees minded the journey, and he replied that they were very angry
and had a great deal to say about it; he was sure to be stung when he let
them out. He said it was “un lavoro improbo,” and cost him a great deal
of anxiety.
“The Lost Chord”
It should be “The Lost Progression,” for the young lady was mistaken in
supposing she had ever heard any single chord “like the sound of a great
Amen.” Unless we are to suppose that she had already found the chord of
C Major for the final syllable of the word and was seeking the chord for
the first syllable; and there she is on the walls of a Milanese
restaurant arpeggioing experimental harmonies in a transport of delight
to advertise Somebody and Someone’s pianos and holding the loud pedal
solidly down all the time. Her family had always been unsympathetic
about her music. They said it was like a loose bundle of fire-wood which
you never can get across the room without dropping sticks; they said she
would have been so much better employed doing anything else.
Fancy being in the room with her while she was strumming about and
hunting after her chord! Fancy being in heaven with her when she had
found it!