Excerpt from Pilgrim Walks in Franciscan Italy

Presently we emerged into the wide plain between the vineyards, where the verdant branches of the vines hang like festoons from tree to tree. In the far distance, above the purple hills, the crests of the snow clad mountains were discernible, glistening in the sun shine. The train stopped, we were in Greccio. The cool air from the moun tains met us as we passed out of the small station to the highroad.

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