After a brief examination at the
custom-house, where Uncle John denied having either sugar, tobacco or
perfumery, they followed on foot the truck laden with their worldly
possessions, and soon reached the hotel.
A pleasant breakfast followed, which they ate before a window
overlooking the busy marina, and then they drove about the town for a
time to see in a casual way the "sights." In the afternoon they took the
train for Taormina. Messina seemed a delightful place, but if they were
going to settle in Taormina for a time it would not pay them to unpack
or linger on the way.
So they rolled along the coast for a couple of hours in a quaint,
old-fashioned railway carriage, and were then deposited upon the
platform of the little station at Giardini.
"I'm afraid there has been a mistake," said the little man, gazing
around him anxiously. "There's no town here, and I told the guard to put
us off at Taormina--not this forlorn place."
Just then Beth discovered a line of carriages drawn up back of the
station. The drivers were mostly asleep inside them, although several
stood in a group arguing in fluent Italian the grave question as to
whether Signora Gani's cow had a black patch over its left shoulder, or
not.
Some of the carriages bore signs: "Hotel Timeo;" "Grand Hotel San
Domenico;" "Hotel Castello-a-Mare;" "Grand Hotel Metropole," and so
forth.
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