Everywhere was music, everywhere was gayety, and the
crowds of people united in glad cries of "Viva Venezia!" [Footnote: Long
live Venice!]
For Venice, more than any other place in the world, belongs to rich and
poor alike, and in the midst of it all, sympathizing with every mood, is
St. Mark's Church, the pride of the Venetian people. Never did she seem
more glorious than on this gala day, never did her gold mosaics sparkle
more brilliantly in the sunshine than when the great high magistrate
pronounced the solemn words: "Dov'era, com'era," and the bells rang to mark
the completion of the exercises.
Then, hark! a whirr, whirr of wings, a sudden darkening of the sky that
caused the joyful thousands to look into the heavens above them.
In an instant the shadow resolved itself into over twenty-five hundred
pigeons that had been brought to Venice that they might carry the glad news
to every part of Italy.
Then it was that the populace went wild with joy; thousands of
handkerchiefs fluttered, the cries of "Viva Venezia!" swelled and rent the
air, until they were drowned by the inspiring notes of the Italian national
tune, played by patriotic musicians in the bandstand at Florian's.
Our little group shared in all the excitement, waving with the rest
and joining in glad cries of "Urra! Urra!" Even Pietro was aroused to
admiration, and as the music died away and the crowds began to disperse, he
exclaimed: "There's no doubt but that Venice has outdone herself, and it
was a master stroke to make such use of homing pigeons.
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