As mementos of the Italian branch of the family, I still preserve a few
views of Lake Como in my house, a crude image of the Christ of the
Annunziatta, stamped on cloth, and a volume of a treatise on surgery by
Nessi, which bears the _imprimatur_ of the Inquisition at Venice.
VIII
MEMORIES OF CHILDHOOD
SAN SEBASTIAN
I was born in San Sebastian on the 28th of December, 1872. So I am not
only a Guipuzcoan but a native of San Sebastian. The former I regard as
an honour, but the latter means very little to me.
I should prefer to have been born in a mountain hamlet or in a small
coast town, rather than in a city of summer visitors and hotel keepers.
Garat, who was a most conventional person who lived in Bayonne, always
used to maintain that he came from Ustariz. I might say that I am from
Vera del Bidasoa, but I should not deceive myself.
There are several reasons why I dislike San Sebastian:
In the first place, the city is not beautiful, when it might well be so.
It is made up of straight streets which are all alike, together with two
or three monuments that are horrible. The general construction is
miserable and shoddy. Although excellent stone abounds in the
neighbourhood, no one has had the sense to erect anything either noble
or dignified.
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