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 OBJ: 1-3

7. When trying to deliver an advertising message to a professional audience, the medium of trade
journals is most predominantly used.

ANS: T PTS: 1 DIF: Difficult REF: p. 10

OBJ: 1-3

8. Motorola's worldwide advertising campaign for cell phones is an attempt to provide a common theme
and presentation in all markets including consumers in North America, Europe, Asia, Africa,
Australia, and South America. This is an example of a global advertising campaign.

ANS: T PTS: 1 DIF: Moderate REF: p. 11

OBJ: 1-3

9. Albertson’s is a retail chain that sells groceries. It has stores in 31 western, northwestern, mid-western
and southern states. It is most likely to use national advertising to reach its target market.

ANS: F PTS: 1 DIF: Easy REF: p. 12

OBJ: 1-3

10. The responsibilities of conception, pricing, positioning, and distribution of ideas, goods, or services are
referred to as the marketing mix.

ANS: F PTS: 1 DIF: Moderate REF: p. 13

OBJ: 1-4

11. To be effective, brand differentiation must be based on tangible as well as intangible differences
between brands.

ANS: T PTS: 1 DIF: Difficult REF: p. 16

OBJ: 1-4

12. Attempting to develop recognition and approval of a brand over time, direct response advertising relies
on imagery and message themes that emphasize the benefits and characteristics of a brand.

ANS: F PTS: 1 DIF: Moderate REF: p. 18

OBJ: 1-4

13. Advertising increases levels of consumer purchase of specific brands, which in turn affects gross
domestic product.

ANS: F PTS: 1 DIF: Difficult REF: p. 19

OBJ: 1-5

14. Advertising is important to marketers because it is the best way dramatize a brand’s values beyond its
physical features.

ANS: T PTS: 1 DIF: Difficult REF: p. 14

OBJ: 1-5

15. Corporate advertising is intended to create a favorable attitude towards an entire corporation, rather
than any specific brands.

© 2011 Cengage Learning. All Rights Reserved. May not be scanned, copied or duplicated, or posted to a publicly accessible website, in whole or in part.
 ANS: T PTS: 1 DIF: Easy REF: p. 19
OBJ: 1-5

MULTIPLE CHOICE

1. Which of the following is an accurate description of advertising?

a. Advertising plays a pivotal role in world commerce.
b. Advertising is a big part of our language and culture.
c. Advertising reflects the way we think about things and see ourselves.
d. All of these are accurate descriptions of advertising.
ANS: D PTS: 1 DIF: Moderate REF: p. 5–6
OBJ: 1-1

2. Honda purchases a 30-second television commercial on ESPN to run in a telecast of an NCAA men's
basketball game. The commercial touts the reliability of Honda and its new 100,000 mile manufacture
warranty. This advertising for Honda is all the following except:
a. paid for. c. an attempt to create needs.
b. mass-mediated. d. a communication.
ANS: C PTS: 1 DIF: Difficult REF: p. 6
OBJ: 1-1

3. GM is trying to reinvent the Cadillac brand with new car designs and a new brand story. They
commission an integrated marketing communications campaign using several media. A key
component of their ads is music by contemporary groups like the Teddy Bears and Melikka. GM is
considered:
a. the client
b. the advertising agency.
c. regulatory agencies that control advertising.
d. the audience member who receives a message.
ANS: A PTS: 1 DIF: Easy REF: p. 6
OBJ: 1-1

4. Acme products markets a new line of eco-friendly household cleaning products in Southwest Florida.
To raise awareness and encourage trial, they buy advertising time on cable TV, place full page ads in
women’s magazines, and provide “cents off” coupons via local newspapers. Each new communication
undergoes a review process to ensure that it displays the new “green” brand logo. Acme is doing
which of the following:
a. Segmenting its target audience c. Managing the IMC process
b. Commissioning an advertising campaign d. None of these
ANS: C PTS: 1 DIF: Moderate REF: p. 7
OBJ: 1-1

5. An incumbent senator appears on television, saying that she should be re-elected because she has
brought jobs to the state. Obviously, this effort is mass mediated and is an attempt to persuade. For it
to be considered advertising, which other condition must be met?
a. The claim must be regulated by the Federal Communications Commission.
b. The airtime must be paid for.
c. It must be a public service announcement.
d. The other candidates' opinions must be presented.
ANS: B PTS: 1 DIF: Moderate REF: p. 6

© 2011 Cengage Learning. All Rights Reserved. May not be scanned, copied or duplicated, or posted to a publicly accessible website, in whole or in part.
 OBJ: 1-1

6. CampusTown Foods, a local grocery store, has decided to run a series of advertisements. For this to be
considered an advertising campaign, which one of the following conditions must be met?
a. The advertisements must communicate a cohesive and integrated idea or theme.
b. The advertisements must appear over an extended period of time.
c. The advertisements must appear in multiple media.
d. The advertisements must focus on store products rather than store services.
ANS: A PTS: 1 DIF: Difficult REF: p. 7
OBJ: 1-1

7. Integrated Marketing Communication

a. is only important for national advertising campaigns.
b. pertains only to campaigns involving three or more media options.
c. uses various promotional tools, including advertising, in a coordinated manner to build
and maintain brand preference and loyalty.
d. is regulated on a federal level by the Federal Trade Commission (FTC).
ANS: C PTS: 1 DIF: Easy REF: p. 7
OBJ: 1-1

8. According to the model of mass-mediated communication, which of the following statements is not
true?
a. Advertising content is the product of interacting institutions.
b. Advertising content is, in part, a function of the conventions, rules, and regulations of the
media being used.
c. Advertising content is, in part, a function of the advertiser's expectations of its audience.
d. all of these
ANS: D PTS: 1 DIF: Difficult REF: p. 8–9
OBJ: 1-2

9. You and your best friend watch the same television commercial together. You think that the
spokesperson in the ad is quite humorous. Your friend thinks that the spokesperson is just plain stupid.
This is an example of
a. the result of differing content upon viewers.
b. the creation of different meanings based on social and cultural context.
c. an ad that cannot be effective.
d. one person not exercising intent of interpretation.
ANS: B PTS: 1 DIF: Difficult REF: p. 9–10
OBJ: 1-2

10. Titleist, the manufacturer of golf balls, runs a commercial featuring professional golfer John Daly. A
group of people watching the commercial at a country club all interpret the commercial in a similar
manner. When members of an audience share a similar interpretation of an advertisement like this, it is
most likely the result of
a. the content of the commercial.
b. the choice of spokesperson.
c. the similar background and social standing of the audience.
d. the characteristics of the product being advertised.
ANS: C PTS: 1 DIF: Moderate REF: p. 10
OBJ: 1-2

© 2011 Cengage Learning. All Rights Reserved. May not be scanned, copied or duplicated, or posted to a publicly accessible website, in whole or in part.
11. You have been asked to analyze advertising industry expenditures by target market. You want to start
with the market that is most often targeted by advertisers. You begin by looking at
a. household consumers. c. professionals.
b. government employees. d. members of trade channels.
ANS: A PTS: 1 DIF: Moderate REF: p. 10
OBJ: 1-3

12. You are product manager for a company that manufactures copy machines for offices. Therefore, you
will most likely
a. ignore not-for-profit businesses.
b. use consumer advertising to reach as many people as possible.
c. eliminate government organizations as a potential target market.
d. use both personal selling and advertising.
ANS: D PTS: 1 DIF: Difficult REF: p. 10
OBJ: 1-3

13. In targeting professionals (such as doctors, lawyers, and teachers) with advertising, the advertiser must
be aware that
a. the language and images used in the advertising for this audience often rely on esoteric
terminology.
b. the advertising is best placed in general interest magazines such as Time.
c. members of this audience have broad, generalized needs.
d. there are only common circumstances that members of the audience recognize.
ANS: A PTS: 1 DIF: Difficult REF: p. 10
OBJ: 1-3

14. You have been placed in charge of all promotion for a product that has common appeal in different
cultures around the world. You will most likely engage in
a. global promotion. c. national promotion.
b. international promotion. d. regional promotion.
ANS: A PTS: 1 DIF: Easy REF: p. 11
OBJ: 1-3

15. Which of the following is NOT an element of the marketing mix?

a. Product c. People
b. Price d. Distribution
ANS: C PTS: 1 DIF: Easy REF: p. 13
OBJ: 1-4

16. Market segmentation is

a. breaking down a large, heterogeneous market into submarkets that are more homogeneous.
b. aggregating small, homogeneous submarkets into a large, homogeneous market.
c. creating a perceived difference in the mind of the consumer between the advertiser's brand
and competitors' brands.
d. identifying a competitive niche the brand will occupy.
ANS: A PTS: 1 DIF: Moderate REF: p. 15
OBJ: 1-4

© 2011 Cengage Learning. All Rights Reserved. May not be scanned, copied or duplicated, or posted to a publicly accessible website, in whole or in part.
17. Great Outdoors, a manufacturer of camping equipment, sells several lines of tents that are very similar
to each other. The company does not want one line of its tents to steal market share from another line
of its tents. To protect against this, it must be concerned with
a. creating differences between the lines of tents, based on tangible, real differences.
b. making sure advertising for one line of tents does not appear in the same medium as
advertising for another line.
c. primary demand stimulation.
d. effective internal positioning.
ANS: D PTS: 1 DIF: Difficult REF: p. 17
OBJ: 1-4

18. When advertising acts to encourage and maintain brand loyalty it supports successful price increases.
Economists call this:
a. inelasticity of demand c. direct response advertising
b. selective demand stimulation d. primary demand stimulation
ANS: A PTS: 1 DIF: Difficult REF: p. 17
OBJ: 1-4

19. As president of a successful advertising agency, you have been asked by a potential client to tell her
about the roles advertising can play for her business. Which one of the following should you not tell
the potential client?
a. Advertising has the greatest reach and creative power of any available promotional tool.
b. Advertising can contribute to economies of scale.
c. Effective advertising can create inelasticity of demand.
d. Effective advertising can make up for an ineffective marketing mix to generate sales.
ANS: D PTS: 1 DIF: Difficult REF: p. 13
OBJ: 1-4

20. FireFighters is a company that manufactures smoke detectors. It runs a newspaper advertisement that
reminds people of the need to have a smoke detector on every floor of their house. In the
advertisement, the company also asks people to think about this the next time they're in the smoke
detector section of a hardware store. According to the information provided here, this is an example of
a. direct response advertising. c. primary demand stimulation.
b. private label advertising. d. selective demand stimulation.
ANS: C PTS: 1 DIF: Difficult REF: p. 18
OBJ: 1-4

21. Lowering the cost of each item produced because of high-volume production brought on by demand
stimulation is
a. brand loyalty. c. economies of scale.
b. inelasticity of demand. d. economies of sales.
ANS: C PTS: 1 DIF: Difficult REF: p. 17
OBJ: 1-4

22. When demand for goods and services is stimulated by advertising, the economic system of the country
benefits by
a. increased brand loyalty.
b. an increase in the gross domestic product.
c. increased inelasticity of demand.
d. reducing the amount of money needed to compete within a product category.

© 2011 Cengage Learning. All Rights Reserved. May not be scanned, copied or duplicated, or posted to a publicly accessible website, in whole or in part.
 ANS: B PTS: 1 DIF: Moderate REF: p. 19
OBJ: 1-4

23. In 2000, Volkswagen spent about $551 million per year in advertising. Volkswagen sales were around
$15.7 billion. Volkswagen's advertising spending as a percentage of sales was approximately 3.4
percent. General Motors spent about $3.9 billion in advertising over the same period of time. GM's
sales were around $136 billion. GM's advertising spending as a percentage of sales was approximately
2.8 percent. According to the book, this information supports the argument that
a. it is difficult to identify a predictable relationship between advertising and sales.
b. the cost of advertising results in higher prices for consumers.
c. advertising does not stimulate competition.
d. advertising does not ultimately benefit the economy as a whole.
ANS: A PTS: 1 DIF: Difficult REF: p. 19–20
OBJ: 1-4

24. A critic of advertising tells you that the costs of advertising are built into the costs for products, which
are then passed on to the consumer. You have decided to argue the point with him. Which argument
should you not present?
a. This must be balanced against the time it would take a person if he or she had to search for
information about products without advertising.
b. Economies of scale spread fixed costs over a large number of production units
c. The increased demand for products that results from advertising can lower the cost of the
production of the products.
d. This is a misconception. Often, the costs of advertising are not built into the costs for
products.
ANS: D PTS: 1 DIF: Difficult REF: p. 20
OBJ: 1-4

25. Hallmark runs a commercial saying that people who receive greeting cards appreciate the cards more
when they see the Hallmark name on the back. This is an example of
a. primary demand stimulation.
b. direct response advertising.
c. attempting to add symbolic value to a product.
d. integrated marketing communications.
ANS: C PTS: 1 DIF: Difficult REF: p. 20–21
OBJ: 1-4

Scenario 1-1
In fall 2004, Sears and Kmart announced a merger of their operations. The new company, known as
Sears Holdings, will be based at Sears headquarters outside Chicago. While the new company will
operate both Sears and Kmart stores, “several hundred” Kmarts will be converted to Sears. The
companies currently operate about 3,500 stores combined. Kmart is known for its in-store special
offers which it signals with blue lights. Recently Kmart has been losing ground to industry goliath
Wal-Mart Stores Inc. The Troy, Michigan based Kmart has a history stretching back more than 100
years from its start as Kresge dime stores. To compete, Kmart has introduced Super K Stores which
offer thousands of name brand products for personal use, home and auto, as well as full service
grocery stores. (Jackie Sindrich and Michael Erman, "No Sure Way Seen to Keep Kmart's Blue Light
Shining," Reuters, AOL Online, January 4, 2002. Parija Bhatnagar and Chris Isodore, “The Kmart
Sears Deal,”CNNMoney, money.cnn.com, November 17, 2004.)

© 2011 Cengage Learning. All Rights Reserved. May not be scanned, copied or duplicated, or posted to a publicly accessible website, in whole or in part.
26. (Scenario 1-1) A brand new Super K Store sends a direct mail piece to 500 households in a radius of
one mile of the new store. In the flyer, the store announces the opening of its grocery department and
offers several incentive specials including a free gallon of milk, a free loaf of bread and a dozen eggs
to entice these potential customers to visit the store. This direct mail piece:
a. is paid for, mass mediated, and an attempt to persuade; therefore, it should be considered
advertising.
b. is paid for and an attempt to persuade; however, it is only locally mediated and therefore
cannot be considered advertising.
c. is not received by a large enough number of people to be considered advertising.
d. must be part of a larger campaign to be considered advertising.
ANS: A PTS: 1 DIF: Moderate REF: p. 6
OBJ: 1-1

27. (Scenario 1-1) One person receives a direct mail piece from Super K that offers a free T-shirt with a
Super K logo on it and thinks the offer is pretty cool. Another person receives the same direct mail
piece and thinks that anyone who would display the name of a grocery store on his or her clothing
must be unsophisticated. The differing interpretations are most likely the result of
a. differing content.
b. the rules and regulations of the direct mail medium.
c. incorrect target marketing.
d. the salient social networks of the recipients.
ANS: D PTS: 1 DIF: Moderate REF: p. 9–10
OBJ: 1-2

28. (Scenario 1-1) A couple goes out shopping at the new store for the first time. They purchase over $250
worth of groceries and personal items. All in all, the new store is exciting, clean and refreshing. They
take advantage of samples of pizza, trail mix and deli meat. The shopping excursion is fun for the
couple and they enjoy their experience. As they leave the Super K, they see the display case and take a
look at the specialty Super K products inside. They buy a hat with the Super K logo and replica of a
"blue light" on it. This is an example of
a. the functional nature of objects. c. cooperative advertising.
b. stimulation of primary demand. d. the symbolic value of objects.
ANS: D PTS: 1 DIF: Difficult REF: p. 20–21
OBJ: 1-4

29. (Scenario 1-1) The use of a direct mail flyer with free incentive "blue light" and free offers enticing
potential customers to come into the new store, the blue lights during the shopping trip, the purchase of
Super K blue light specials and merchandise and blue light logo items are all coordinated to build
brand awareness, identity and preference. This is advertising technique is called:
a. Formulization c. Integrated Marketing Communication.
b. Establishment of Primary Efficiency. d. Target Market Analysis.
ANS: C PTS: 1 DIF: Moderate REF: p. 6–7
OBJ: 1-5

Scenario 1-2
Chug Enterprises is considering entering the already-crowded sports drink market with a line of
products. The first brand will be advertised to teenagers as being the best-tasting sports drink on the
market. The second brand will be advertised to adults as being the lowest calorie sports drink you can
buy. The third brand will be advertised to senior citizens as containing calcium, a mineral needed to
maintain a healthy bone structure. Each brand will have separate, distinctive packaging. However, the
drinks inside are actually identical to one another.

© 2011 Cengage Learning. All Rights Reserved. May not be scanned, copied or duplicated, or posted to a publicly accessible website, in whole or in part.
30. (Scenario 1-2) If the brand aimed at senior citizens is successful in the U.S. market, Chug Enterprises
plans to introduce it worldwide. However, appropriate images of senior citizens vary from culture to
culture. Therefore, Chug Enterprises would be wise to engage in
a. local advertising. c. national advertising.
b. regional advertising. d. international advertising.
ANS: D PTS: 1 DIF: Moderate REF: p. 11
OBJ: 1-3

31. (Scenario 1-2) Chug Enterprises chose the positions of the three products to appeal to separate target
markets. This was done to keep its brands from competing for market share with one another. This
shows that Chug understands the importance of
a. external positioning. c. inelasticity of demand.
b. internal positioning. d. the functional nature of consumption.
ANS: B PTS: 1 DIF: Moderate REF: p. 16–17
OBJ: 1-4

32. (Scenario 1-2) What would be the least effective strategy Chug Enterprises could pursue in marketing
its product to consumers?
a. Stimulate primary demand. c. Attempt to increase elasticity of demand.
b. Use delayed response advertising. d. Engage in IMC.
ANS: A PTS: 1 DIF: Difficult REF: p. 18
OBJ: 1-4

33. (Scenario 1-2) To help build brand awareness, preference and loyalty, Chug Enterprises plans a
coordinated campaign using a variety of promotional tools including advertising. This process of
combining coordinated communication to help customers identify and evaluate the relevance of Chug
Enterprises products to their lives and value systems is considered:
a. delayed response advertising. c. indirect response advertising.
b. institutional promotion. d. integrated marketing communication.
ANS: D PTS: 1 DIF: Difficult REF: p. 6–7
OBJ: 1-1

Scenario 1-3
Sony has just begun to aggressively promote its new digital music player, the NW-HD1. This is the
latest version of Sony's ubiquitous Walkman portable music player. Commercials feature Macy Gray
singing a cover of Aerosmith's "Walk This Way." But can Sony supplant Apple's wildly popular iPod
in the hearts of music lovers? That will be a tough challenge. To many of teens and young adults, the
Walkman is like, you know, so 1987. "Today's generation thinks of the iPod the way that a generation
ago thought of the Walkman," said Gartenberg. "Apple has built a phenomenally strong brand. People
are not saying, 'I want an MP3 player.' They're saying, 'I want an iPod.'" Baker agrees that Sony,
despite its pedigree as a portable music pioneer, has little chance of making a major splash in the
digital music area anytime soon. (Paul R. LaMonica, “Walk this Way,” CNN Money, September 15,
2004.)

34. (Scenario 1-3) To have the greatest opportunity for success in selling NW-HD1s, Sony must rely on a
number of different tools available in the marketing mix. Which one of the following is true?
a. The primary job of Sony's marketing mix is to support the advertising.
b. Sony's product distribution should be considered part of the marketing mix.
c. Advertising is considered one of the four main categories of Sony's marketing mix.

© 2011 Cengage Learning. All Rights Reserved. May not be scanned, copied or duplicated, or posted to a publicly accessible website, in whole or in part.
 d. Instructions for the use of NW-HD1s are not considered part of the product in the
marketing mix.
ANS: B PTS: 1 DIF: Moderate REF: p. 13
OBJ: 1-4

35. (Scenario 1-3) If the advertisements aimed at young people who do not currently have NW-HD1
players are successful, it may result in NW-HD1s being thought of as the best technology appropriate
for today's modern entertainment at the expense of iPods. This is an example of
a. IMC.
b. a loss of symbolic value.
c. differentiation based on tangible differences.
d. successful product positioning.
ANS: D PTS: 1 DIF: Difficult REF: p. 16–17
OBJ: 1-4

36. (Scenario 1-3) The fundamental purpose to be served by the marketing of NW-HD1s and affordable
music players by Sony retailers is to:
a. generate revenue for the retailer and Sony.
b. create awareness of Sony.
c. differentiate Sony from other entertainment options.
d. support the promotional mix behind Sony.
ANS: A PTS: 1 DIF: Moderate REF: p. 17
OBJ: 1-4

Scenario 1-4
At Sam-Mart, a huge discount retailer, sales are around $70 billion a year and rising. In addition, the
company employs more than 500,000 people worldwide. Sam-Mart stores carry just about every major
brand imaginable. In addition, Sam-Mart carries its own brand called Wally's Choice. The Wally's
Choice label is on products like cookies, potato chips, paper towels, and other personal and household
products.

37. (Scenario 1-4) In a local newspaper, Sam-Mart purchases and runs a message that does not refer to any
of the products it carries. Instead, it mentions that employees of the local Sam-Mart contribute both the
store's resources and their own free time to community projects. This is an example of
a. a message designed to persuade. c. delayed response advertising.
b. a public service announcement. d. corporate advertising.
ANS: D PTS: 1 DIF: Difficult REF: p. 19
OBJ: 1-4

38. (Scenario 1-4) In one city, Biggies', a competing retail outlet, opens a store across the street from a
Sam-Mart. A battle for business ensues. One of the tools both chains use in their fight for customers is
advertising. Sam-Mart runs three different commercials that stress the point that it has very low prices.
Biggies' runs three different commercials that stress the point that it has very friendly salespeople.
Which one of the following practices are the two stores engaging in?
a. External positioning c. Corporate advertising
b. Product positioning d. Internal positioning
ANS: A PTS: 1 DIF: Moderate REF: p. 16–17
OBJ: 1-4

© 2011 Cengage Learning. All Rights Reserved. May not be scanned, copied or duplicated, or posted to a publicly accessible website, in whole or in part.
39. (Scenario 1-4) A product with a Wally's Choice label on it will come to be known by consumers by the
values - both tangible and intangible of the brand, and through integrated marketing communications
Sam-Mart will provide extra incentive to consumers to:
a. keep them brand conscious.
b. sample and test new competitors products.
c. stimulate latent promotion.
d. remain brand loyal.
ANS: D PTS: 1 DIF: Moderate REF: p. 15
OBJ: 1-4

40. (Scenario 1-4) Which of the following statements about Wally's Choice is true?
a. Because it was created by the retailer, Wally’s Choice can’t develop any connection to the
consumers’ cultural environment of symbols and meanings
b. Over time consumers’ link of Wally’s Choice to economy grocery items may increase in
relevance during hard economic times
c. It has no symbolic value.
d. It was developed and marketed by manufacturers.
ANS: B PTS: 1 DIF: Difficult REF: p. 15
OBJ: 1-4

Scenario 1-5
Exodus Moving is a small business that was created to serve local furniture stores’ delivery needs in
the Boulder Colorado area. They have specialized equipment that allows them to lift and transfer large
and bulky pieces of furniture with less risk of damage than most traditional movers. Many of these
furniture stores do not sell enough volume to keep their own trucks and drivers busy all of the time, so
Exodus fills a real market need. As a result, most such stores are very interested in outsourcing
delivery service needs. Exodus has attracted many customers from these stores by guaranteeing 48
hour delivery within a 50 mile radius of any of the stores they serve. Eventually, Exodus hopes to
attract the business of other retailers who might require delivery services, such as electronics or
appliance stores.

41. (Scenario 1-5) For now, Exodus limits their advertising to furniture store journals because they
perceive that these stores are
a. household consumers. c. their target audience.
b. their trade channel. d. professionals and business organizations.
ANS: C PTS: 1 DIF: Easy REF: p. 10
OBJ: 1-3

42. (Scenario 1-5) Exodus advertises in the trade magazine "Western Interiors", which is read by furniture
retailers and interior decorators throughout 12 western states. Which of the following best describes
this type of promotion?
a. International promotion c. Regional promotion
b. National promotion d. Local promotion
ANS: C PTS: 1 DIF: Moderate REF: p. 12
OBJ: 1-3

43. (Scenario 1-5) In all of the promotional materials, Exodus Moving uses the slogan "Swift, Yet
Gentler." This process of creating a distinct place relative to other movers in the market is known as
____.
a. product differentiation c. an advertising campaign
b. positioning d. global advertising

© 2011 Cengage Learning. All Rights Reserved. May not be scanned, copied or duplicated, or posted to a publicly accessible website, in whole or in part.
 ANS: B PTS: 1 DIF: Moderate REF: p. 16–17
OBJ: 1-4

44. (Scenario 1-5) Exodus has learned that the more furniture moving volume they have, the lower the cost
per item. This has encouraged the president of Exodus to do more advertising so that they can achieve
____ as they get more stores to use their services.
a. brand loyalty c. inelasticity of demand
b. elasticity of demand d. economies of scale
ANS: D PTS: 1 DIF: Moderate REF: p. 17
OBJ: 1-4

45. (Scenario 1-5) Exodus Moving's advertising is designed to convince managers of local furniture stores
that they should consider outsourcing their delivery needs instead of using their own in-house trucks
and drivers. Which of the following best describes the types of advertising that Exodus is using based
on functional goals?
a. Corporate advertising c. Direct response advertising
b. Selective demand stimulation d. Primary demand stimulation
ANS: D PTS: 1 DIF: Moderate REF: p. 18
OBJ: 1-4

Scenario 1-6
Gillette M3Power—a MACH3 razor innovation—is a groundbreaking, powered wet shaving system
for men that delivers a totally new shaving experience resulting in Gillette’s best shave ever. M3Power
builds on the heritage of MACH3 and combines Gillette’s latest and best razor and blade technologies.
M3Power outperforms all other blades and razors in closeness, comfort and safety during and after the
shave. Gillette M3Power features other innovations beyond power: new blades featuring
PowerGlide™—an enhanced blade coating for incredible glide and maximum comfort, a moisturizing
Indicator® Lubrastrip™ and a technologically-advanced handle (www.Gillette.com). Recently,
Gillette Co. direct-mailed users of competing male products, throughout the United States, a free
MACH3Power razor with blades and a coupon offer. In addition, a series of coordinated
advertisements to male consumers were developed to increase awareness of this product. Gillette said
that its goal was to have a market awareness rate of 70% within four months.

46. (Scenario 1-6) The series of coordinated advertisements and promotional tools to male consumers for
Gillette's Mach3Power razor is best described as
a. an advertisement. c. a mass-mediated communication.
b. Integrated Marketing Communication d. accommodation and negotiation.
ANS: B PTS: 1 DIF: Easy REF: p. 6–7
OBJ: 1-1

47. (Scenario 1-6) Gillette Co. considers the model of mass-mediated communication when developing its
consumer advertising. For example, Gillette always tests ____, such as whether individual audience
members understand the advertisement.
a. production c. negotiation
b. accommodation d. reception
ANS: D PTS: 1 DIF: Difficult REF: p. 8–9
OBJ: 1-2

48. (Scenario 1-6) Gillette's direct mail advertising campaign is best considered ____ promotion.
a. global c. international

© 2011 Cengage Learning. All Rights Reserved. May not be scanned, copied or duplicated, or posted to a publicly accessible website, in whole or in part.
 b. national d. regional
ANS: B PTS: 1 DIF: Easy REF: p. 12
OBJ: 1-3

49. (Scenario 1-6) Gillette advertises to consumers, to retailers, and even to wholesalers with the slogan
"The Best a Man Can Get" to encourage more distribution of their products. They also have personal
salespeople meeting with retailers and wholesalers on a regular basis. They offer promotional items in
stores for consumers and are known to sponsor events like NASCAR races. This emphasis on the
brand and not just communication is known as
a. primary demand stimulation c. integrated marketing communication
b. selective demand stimulation d. advertising
ANS: C PTS: 1 DIF: Moderate REF: p. 6
OBJ: 1-1

ESSAY

1. By definition, a communication must meet three criteria to be considered an advertisement. Describe a

public service announcement that you have seen recently, then outline how it meets, or fails to meet,
each of these criteria.

ANS:
The three criteria that must be met for a communication to be considered an advertisement are that it
must be paid for, it must be mass mediated, and it must be an attempt to persuade. A public service
advertisement is mass mediated and an attempt to persuade. However, by definition, a public service
announcement is not paid for and cannot be considered advertising.

PTS: 1 DIF: Moderate REF: p. 6 OBJ: 1-1

2. List and describe the two main components that comprise the model of communications presented in
the book. Explain why they are considered partially independent.

ANS:
The two main components are the production and reception of messages. In production the content of
any communication is produced. It is the product of the interaction of many institutions. In reception,
individual members of the audience interpret communications according to a set of factors, governed
largely by their salient social networks. This is where the meaning is determined. The processes of
production and reception are partially independent because the producers of a message cannot control
or even closely monitor the actual reception and interpretation of the content.

PTS: 1 DIF: Difficult REF: p. 8–9 OBJ: 1-2

3. Audiences can be considered geographic entities by marketers. The book offered five different types of
promotion that result from this. List three of these different types of promotion defined by geography.
Describe when the use of each of the three types you list is appropriate.

ANS:

© 2011 Cengage Learning. All Rights Reserved. May not be scanned, copied or duplicated, or posted to a publicly accessible website, in whole or in part.
 (1) Global promotion is possible only when brands and the messages about those brands have a similar
appeal across diverse cultures. (2) International promotion occurs when firms prepare and place
different promotion in different national markets. It is appropriate when a product does not have cross-
cultural appeal and global recognition. (3) National promotion is used when a single message needs to
reach all of the geographic areas of one nation. (4) Regional promotion is carried out by producers,
wholesalers, distributors, and retailers that concentrate their efforts in a relatively large, but not
national, geographic region. (5) Local promotion is directed at an audience in a single trading area,
either a city or state.

PTS: 1 DIF: Moderate REF: p. 11–12 OBJ: 1-3

4. Outline the four main components of a marketing mix. List two factors that must be considered for
each component. Describe advertising's role in the marketing mix.

ANS:
The four main components of a marketing mix are product, price, promotion, and distribution. Exhibit
1.3 contains an extensive list of factors that must be considered for each component. Advertising must
work to support the organization's more general marketing strategies. Some of the most basic strategies
that it can support are market segmentation, product differentiation, and positioning.

PTS: 1 DIF: Moderate REF: p. 13 OBJ: 1-4

5. Explain the evolution of Integrated Marketing Communications since the 1990s and why IMC is
crucial to brand success.

ANS:
Since the 1990s, the concept of mixing various promotional tools has generally been referred to as
integrated marketing communications. The IMC process uses promotional tools in a unified way so
that a synergistic communication effect is created. Current thinking is that the emphasis on
communication is not as important as the emphasis on the brand. The result is that there has been an
evolution towards using a wide range of promotional tools in concert to create widespread brand
exposure.

PTS: 1 DIF: Difficult REF: p. 7 OBJ: 1-1

© 2011 Cengage Learning. All Rights Reserved. May not be scanned, copied or duplicated, or posted to a publicly accessible website, in whole or in part.
Other documents randomly have
different content
cuttle-fish, sometimes even of sharks, as can the dwellers on the
rocky coast where no smooth sands help the timid ones.
All along the coast on Genoa’s either side habitations crowd the
earth; palaces, time-worn and soiled or new and gaudy, for the rich;
tall and thin and straight houses with small rooms and many storeys
for the class of the negozianti and artisti; everybody must do the
‘Season of the Baths’ somehow. Quarto, Quinto, Nervi, Bogliasco,
not to speak of Albaro nearer town, and then Sori, Recco, and best
of all, Camogli, where the stone pines grow in a fringe along the
hill’s ridge—everywhere there are houses in flats, with apartments to
let; everywhere cottages stand beside palaces or behind stabilimenti,
so that all classes should have room equally. The proprietors of villa
Franchi, villa Crosa, villa Gropallo, and many more, come in elegant
summer attire or in economical costumes, to recruit ‘in villeggiatura’
and to bathe and dive and swim in waters that lap the beach of their
own domains. La signora Friuli, who has many children, and whose
husband is in the Pasta trade, comes from the fifth storey of a house
in the narrow town street to wear out her own old clothes and to
send the children shoeless on to the beach of Camogli, whence one
and all dip in the mild blue sea. A terraced hill rises behind Camogli’s
picturesque harbour, with its fisher-huts; the hill is cultivated with
wheat patches and little potato fields, for it belongs to the old palace
that stands below, whose walls, once fresco-painted, are now so
weather-stained. But the cultivation is of a desultory nature, and the
olives are its best harvest, of which the small, sturdy trees stand
over the terraces with gnarled trunks and twisted branches.
Following the path that leads up to the flat of a ridge, you can reach
pine-plantations, where dark and widely-spreading trees stand in the
soft earth on the cliffs’ edge and on the side also where inland
scenery comes in sight, with church-steeples and houses dotted over
a valley’s expanse. The faint, heavy perfume of tropical vegetation
hangs around, pine-dust lies thick and slippery on the ground, paths
wind about, laurel bushes grow beside them, and, though the
western slope look towards mountains, the hill’s crest rests over
against the sea again. Waves lap far below, where cloven rocks and
smooth rocks and peaked rocks are sunk in the sand for ramparts;
waves swell gently for miles in front, more waves of clouds seem to
be in the sky, and fishing smacks sway on the sea’s surface; brown
sails and white sails lie against the cloud’s background, and the
broken coast-line winds back to where Genoa halts, like a fancy city,
between mist and sunshine. This is Camogli, where many a man and
woman and lad and lass and child has rejoiced in the stagione dei
Bagni. And yet Camogli is not the fashionable one among Riviera
bathing-places, and we must turn to the sun-setting side of the
Riviera capital for a glimpse of the life that is August life indeed to
the professional pleasure-hunter.
A railway has been open for some time now along the eastern
Riviera: it has marred the perfection of some fair spots, but it has its
conveniences, and it cannot spoil far afield. But in the days that I
best remember there was no railroad to eastward, and the Ponente
shore had thus an advantage over the other in civilization’s eyes.
There was a strada ferrata to Nice some time ago, a strada ferrata
that some people wondered was ever made: the vetturini, whose
trade is marred for instance, and the diligence proprietors, who can
no longer count on crowding their vehicles with dust-smothered
passengers, or the traveller, who has money to pay for a post-chaise,
and can spare time to loiter along the road at his pleasure, enjoying
the full fragrance of its loveliness, and providing food for extortion to
the innkeepers. The trains never run regularly—some part of the
road is always out of repair—you travel in fear of being plunged into
the sea, and the carriage route is altogether spoilt. Yet it is a step in
civilization. ‘What would you have?’ says the ever obsequious guard
to whom one confides one’s wrongs at having been five hours longer
on the road than the guide-book stated. ‘Did we go faster, you would
be now in the sea: the road is not safe. Patience!’ the invariable
ejaculation of an Italian when others but himself are complaining.
To anyone who knows the Cornice from Genoa to Nice the name of
Pegli will not be totally strange. It is, or rather used to be, a little
fishing village; used to be, for of late years there has been built in
the midst of it a grand Stabilimento, whither the town’s inhabitants
flock during the months of July and August for the sea-bathing. In
summer it is a fashionable place; many of Genoa’s nobles divide
their summer between Pegli and some inland foreign baths, whilst
the bourgeoise class seek their holiday first in quiet mountainous
parts of Italy known best to themselves, but do not fail to return for
i Bagni when the rich have left things cheaper. In winter Pegli is
utterly desolate, excepting for some few foreigners, mostly English,
who try to make themselves comfortable in the huge marble halls of
the Stabilimento, built only for coolness, in the delusion that they are
safer from bronchitis because they see the sun and know it is Italy,
than they would be, snug and warm, in English homes.

FLIRTATION AT PEGLI.

Pegli stands straggling along the beach of a sunny bay, almost within
the Gulf of Genoa. The village itself is not pretty, but around it on
the sea shore, with gardens sloping down into the very waves, and
stone loggias and terraces whose feet stand in the water, above it on
the hill-side, girt about with woods and vineyards, stand many a
grand old palace or cool and pleasant villa. True, there are here, as
everywhere else, in Northern Italy, queer examples of modern Italian
architecture, in thin, tall houses, painted over with every crude tint
of scarlet, orange, blue, and violet, bearing staring frescoes of
horses and water-nymphs, and balconies out of perspective. But
these defective edifices, though many in number, cannot utterly spoil
the place. Though dusty the highway and breathless the summer
days, the idle, hazy hours are happy that one may spend in the villas
or bathing-houses of Pegli. In the Stabilimento for ten francs a day
you have (according to the maître d’hôtel) every luxury which
human craving may desire. A cool, marble-floored, furnitureless
room, with goblin-bedizened ceiling and mosquito-curtained bed, an
ample billiard room, an elegant ‘salon,’ a vast dining-room, every
convenience for sea or freshwater bathing, even a ball-room, in
which to flirt once a week with any one of the pale dark-eyed ladies
who invite you to that pastime. Nor is the ball-room the only meet
place for this exercise; there is a balcony—two, nay three balconies
—and a large marble terrace that you can pace in the cool night air,
gently smoking your cigarette in company with an attractive
Milanese, Piedmontese, or Tuscan countess. Rising in the morning at
five, or even before, you stroll down lightly clad to the shore, where
the little waves are washing lazily up and down on the shelving
beach, cool and limpid in the dewy dawn; you cross the soft small
strip of shingle and parched, wrinkled sand—it is only a strip, for we
have no tide—you secure one of those quaint little tents built out
into the water and you adorn yourself for the great event of the day.
Then issuing forth freely into the soothing water, you meet all the
lovely ladies whom you saw last night at table d’hôte, in every
variety of fascinating attire. Some are dressed as nymphs, some
wear the most elaborately embroidered flannel garments, some have
broad-brimmed Leghorn hats, but these are they who fear the
spoiling of their complexions, and are few in number. Out of this
mass of insinuating loveliness you choose the one to you most
sympathetic, you ask her if she swims (but of course she swims,
since she is Italian, or at worst Italian by education and customs),
you engage her for the morning as you would for a dance, you
conduct her out to sea and does she need any assistance you offer
it. You talk, you laugh, the hour passes, and you bring her safely to
shore. You make your way back to your apartment, return to your
couch and smoke. You read the paper, you drink coffee, then you
dress, play billiards, and attempt breakfast. You yawn, doze, but not
again see the fair water-nymph until dinner at five p.m., when she
reappears in other guise, as the perfumed, powdered, languid, and
bien coiffée lady of fashion. After dinner everyone saunters forth to
the woods and gardens. Those who can, go in pairs, those who
cannot in dreary solos or triplets. It is still hot, but not beyond
endurance. The Pallavicini Gardens close by are wonderful;
waterworks are there, artificial lakes, grottos with stalactites,
Chinese pagodas, Swiss châlets, and English farmhouses, besides
arbours, into which the confiding stranger strolls innocently, to be
drenched unawares from a secret stream, and whence he darts, less
confidingly, only to be met by four or five more conflicting streams
on some deceptive bridge or turret. There are many more cunning
devices besides, and beyond all—or rather not to be marred by them
all—is the subtly seductive beauty of Southern nature: the luxuriant
vegetation, the waveless dreamy sea, the tender rose-tinted sky, the
trickle of many a tiny rivulet, the hot, pale air rich with harmonious
scents of orange blossom, rose, and magnolia; and then later on,
when the hours have sped into darkness, the whisper of rising night-
breezes amid the foliage, the flittering of fire-flies, the shooting of
stars, the hush of waves on the shelving shore below, when the
water is gently moved by the touch of the wind. Night grows,
everyone goes home. The terraces of hotels and palaces are peopled
with gracefully-reclining ladies who smoke cigarettes and flirt fans,
with obsequious and attentive cavaliers, flattering and self-
conscious; with fat dowagers, wearied and sleepy, who yet will not
for the life of them retire to leave the field open to younger and
fairer rivals. The cool hours wear away—the only hours in which one
lives in summer—a short while of sleep, and the early morning is
back again with its delicious water duties and the lazy hours that
follow on till night.
 Part Two
In the Apennines
 The Mountains.

Where the winding chain of the Apennines stretches upward from

the sea, crossing and recrossing the land with so many and such
strange devices that from off the height of one of the mountains
themselves there seems scarce room for a space of level plain,
wedged in between ridges or sunk in clefts of hills, are the fair
valleys of North Italy. Away from the blue sea and its blinding
beauty, and from the leaden heat of the shores, they hold a fresh
and free life of their own. Heavy night dews there feed the wild
flowers that sicken in the nerveless pallor of the summer sea-air, and
fresh water runs swiftly from mountain springs. Sometimes they are
narrow and hidden valleys, in whose depth even villages could
scarce find a home, did they not climb the hill-sides on either hand,
and camp out, as it were, upon the meadows or among the
vineyards. Or, again, they are wider, so that little towns have been
built within them—quaint towns with tall houses and taller
campanile, at whose side there flows, perhaps, a shallow river,
brown upon its shingly bed.
Where, north of Genoa and the sea some twenty miles, the low back
of the Giove mountain lies across the country, there is one of these
more open valleys that creeps upward toward the higher peak of
Antola, and along its way many a picturesque little village has grown
for years, wearing out the thatched roofs of its chimneyless houses
beneath hot suns and sharp mountain winds, cheerily holding its
own against storms and inundations from the river hard by, that is
so cruel a foe when the great rains have been at work. Little hamlets
cling to the mountain sides, with scarce a common thoroughfare
beside them; while other hamlets that stand upon the roadside can
often boast a finer house in their midst, for the forestieri come in
summer, and people whose houses lie conveniently can let rooms.
By these villages a stone bridge is even built over the stream, so
that the torrent may be safely crossed when it is swollen by the
rains.
It was early on a summer evening that I first saw this broader and
loveliest of North Apennine valleys which is between Giove’s
mountain and the more cloven peaks of Antola hills. In the towns it
had been so hot of late that not all the delights of sea-bathing in
soft, Mediterranean waters, from the marble steps of olive-planted
gardens, nor even the seductiveness of the dolce far niente beside
spouting fountains, beneath colonnades and on balconies, could
banish the longing for the freedom of a fresher air, could atone for
the remorseless Scirocco, for the sapping heat of those white August
days and terrible nights. I sought release from them all and from the
mosquitoes, where green trees might perchance fan a breeze
towards me, where turf would at least be cool to lie on, and I sought
it in the valleys—so little known even by those who live within their
reach—of the Piedmontese Apennines.
I had seen a little station, just at the mouth of the Giove tunnel on
the way to Alessandria, around which the country seemed to me
crisply and luxuriantly beautiful. It was called Busalla. No one knew
of it as a recommendable villeggiatura; Pontedecimo, Serravalle,
Voltaggio were suggested to me instead, but I preferred my own
choice. The little town is dirty, noisy, dusty as little Italian towns
mostly are; but in the country round about I was not disappointed.
Dense, bountiful chestnut woods, whose tender-coloured, fan-like
leaves sway soothingly in the whispering breeze, would alone have
been enough to freshen me, wearied by grand buildings and
splendid colonnades. And besides the desired trees there was the
gurgling of water all about—sometimes I could scarcely find from
whence. I would glance around to see the stream that was babbling
so audibly, and lay my head down again on the turf, fancying I was
mistaken, only to hear the mocking laughter of the water again
when I had ceased to look for it.
When I arrived at Busalla, I was rather at a loss at first about a
shelter for the night. The cleanest even of the two inns looked
scarcely such as I cared to enter. I questioned a comely female in
the piazza, who had figs and peaches in a basket on her head, and
who was freely gesticulating and shouting at a handsome negoziante
from Genoa. Having secured her attention by means of a larger
remuneration than the nominal price she asked for the fruit, I learnt
that there was a magnifico stabilimento at Savignone, a village some
three miles off: I could have a conveyance, or she herself would
show me the way, as she was going to the village. I accepted her
offer—the vettura I had seen standing out, and I should have feared
for my safety at its mercy.
We came first through the little town, with its butcher, fruiterer, and
inevitable barber, past the old whitewashed campanile with the sun-
dial on its façade, and struck out upon a roughish way to the left.
There was a torrent to cross on stepping-stones. I recollect that my
guide laughed loudly at my care to keep on the stones. She trudged
through the water on her bare feet. For a good half-hour the road
runs alongside of just such a drowsy river as I have remembered
before, creeping away furtively in the midst of an arid bed, too
weary in the drought even to lift its voice; yet this river can swell
beneath the sharp lash of an angry thunderstorm, to roll onward in
muddy, turbulent volumes, regardless of walls, bridges, or any other
obstacle. Now to the left is a weir: the road mounts some hundred
feet above the level of the water, and is none of the safest to drive
over, being narrow, ill-made, and unparapetted. I was glad I had not
chosen the vettura.
Glad too, because a more lovely walk could scarcely be conceived.
The valley lay before me in all its sweet, mellow beauty: fresh, crisp,
luxuriant, and yet burnished all over and saturated with the dim,
gently sorrowful shadow of coming autumn. The vintage was near,
and the terraced hill-sides were hung with the rich festoons of
unpruned vines, that seemed fondly to try and cover the bare
ground whence the golden wheat had been shorn. Waving,
sweeping chestnut woods drape those hills around, leaving bare only
the summits, whose frail outlines lie clear against the pale sky.
Unlike bolder types of mountains, these Apennines are fretted all
over with a delicate tracery of faint furrows that wander waywardly,
and of watercourses that rise slenderly above to grow into large
ravines and gashes below. Nature is warm and gracious here, but
not wanton with luxuriance, as in the more tropical beauty which I
had just left; the country is not a wild country because the hand of
man has rested on it all to put cultivation within its valleys, and even
upon its hill-sides; but cultivation has not wiped away the mark of
nature’s own wayward grace, that is fit to that other grace, free,
winning, and wayward, too, even to quaintness, which belongs to its
people.

IN THE FIELDS AT SAVIGNONE.

We crossed the bridge—the only stone bridge on the river, that gives
its name to a village hard by—and followed the way that steeply
climbs the hill for a while until another Campanile is in sight. Ten
minutes more of climbing brought us out on to the piazza of
Savignone.
I dismissed my friendly peasant guide, who promised me her
warmest prayers in exchange for my silver coin, and watching her as
she reaped neighbourly greetings from knots of country folk
gathered on the piazza for their evening relaxation, I looked around
upon the village that was, for a while, to be my home. I stood in a
large open square paved with round pebbles; a church was on my
right—on either side of which, and forming a quadrangle round
about, lay a long, low building, yellow-painted and large-windowed,
formerly a hospital, but now the magnifico stabilimento of which I
had been told. Here were evidently the remains of an old feudal
borough, belonging probably in long-lost times to one of those lords
of the marshes so famous in the days of the terrible condottieri.
Even through the embellishments of modern stucco one could trace
the skeleton of a palace which had seen better usage, in the days
when architecture was something more than a name; and besides
the palace, hospital, or stabilimento, there were ruins of a castle on
a little hill close above, a hill that in the twilight seemed to dwell
beneath the shadow of another and rockier mountain.
All around me rose graceful and methodless mountains, with forms
that were broken into a wealth of harmonies, and sky-line lying
clear-cut and undulating upon the darkening blue. A soft dew fell
from out the hot day upon all drooping things, and, as I rested, the
sound of rippling water smote on my hearing—of water that, said I,
would ripple and murmur just the same to-morrow, when the sun
should be burning overhead. ‘Ah, yes, we have many streams here;
that is why the doctors have built a Stabilimento Idroterapico,’ was
the old contadino’s explanation, to whom I turned now for advice.
‘Your honour will be well there in the Stabilimento; there is true
luxury! We have a fair spot at Savignone for anyone to pass the time
in, and one does not feel the heat too much—no! And over the
gorge of the river is la Valle Calda.’ So I stayed at Savignone; and
when the sun’s power had flagged the next day, and dews crept
down once more, I went back upon my steps of the first evening—
back almost as far as Busalla, that I might learn to know that other
gorge, which the old peasant had called la Valle Calda.
Leaving the town of Busalla, my road struck off from the main
highway across the Giove, from that highway which was in olden
times the traveller’s only route from Turin to Genoa. It is still studded
along with many a little wayside inn, now forlorn and impoverished,
where carriage-loads of foreigners used to stop in days gone by,
while their horses were baiting. These little inns have sunk
nowadays to the lower rank of ‘bettole’ or taverns; since the making
of the railway they lack the custom which raised them into ‘alberghi,’
and no longer profess to find beds, but only to supply the wayfarer
or the waggoner with food and drink. Nevertheless the ‘bettole’ are
still distinctive features, and picturesque with a purely Italian
picturesqueness.
The branch road up the valley of the Scrivia is not at first sight
inviting. Poor and dirty buildings of the town’s outskirts flank its ill-
paven and narrow streets, but squalid houses are soon left behind,
and the country opens out before and around you. As I have said
before, it is a free landscape, even though the hills stand about on
every side closing in the valley, and though, looking up toward the
farther end of it, you can see that the land grows more
mountainous, and that the cones and shoulders of hills seem to lie
up more cumbrously against the horizon. But they are not mountains
whose peaks tower into the sky, neither are their sides made up of
cliffs and dark ravines. They are scarcely perhaps high enough and
important enough even to deserve the name of mountains—these
slimly moulded and graceful hills, daintily muffled in luxuriant
vegetation—excepting that they are so amply cultivated where the
chestnut woods are not, that something of their height is lost,
perhaps, because their nature is so like the nature of the plains; the
plains, that are no more than narrow little strips of level land from
which cultivation creeps up the steep slopes; for patches of corn-
field, of maize and potato crops, intersected with vineyards and
trellises, find room on many a tiny ledge or terrace of earth till the
whole land wears a look of careful plenty.
Even the timber vegetation of the country has a sort of prodigality in
its beauty, which seems to tell how the broad-leaved chestnut trees
are not only fair to behold but also bountiful in service. They wear a
promise of warmer tones now over their brilliant summer colouring,
for the autumn has just begun to shed a new influence abroad, and
faintly golden tints speak of the fruit-time of the year, after the
sunnier time of flowers and scents is over. The whole land has a
flush of this new promise. Harvest is over, and the corn-fields are
laid bare, yet there is a golden burnished hue upon the ground
where the yellow stubble is left upon the yellow clay soil. The
vintage is not yet gathered in, so that the vines have lost none of
their beauty, but that rather the cool purple-red of their luscious
fruit-clusters, near to that other warmer red which is faint as yet
upon the gracefully-turning tendrils and broad leaves of their foliage,
serves to help the warm painting of the whole. As far as the eye can
see, gold and green mingle in subtle harmony. A faintest fancy of
coming gold in the chestnut woods, the steadier gold and yet pale of
the cropped fields, the gold that almost deepens into brown where
patches of ploughed land lie here and there upon the hillsides and in
the valley, and through the whole the golden-winding thread of the
river.
This is the valley of the Scrivia, from whose main course that side
gorge creeps up, among the mountains, to the village of Savignone
and the feudal castle. At its foot a mountain stands sentinel to all the
little quiet and cosy villages within the precinct below—a tall
mountain, uprising many hundreds of feet in one solid mass, but
indented with many clefts and water-courses, and cut at its summit
into many sharp peaks, each different in shape and in size, and all
lying clear and fine against the sky. Here the river winds in closer
coils, and its rough bed spreads across the valley; for soon the water
gathers itself together, since it is somewhere in the fissures of Monte
Baneo or her range that the Scrivia has its birth. At the foot of the
sentinel mountain you may see a little white town lodged—and this
is the town, more properly called the village, of Casella.
All this you will have seen on before you and beside you as you
walked up along the stony road from Busalla. The stream has been
flowing at your left, and on your right were chestnut woods growing
up into the hills, and turf and moss that spread beneath them, and
little hamlets dotting the wayside, and blackberry hedges by the
road. Many little torrents bubble across the footpath—streams that
must be crossed on the roughest of stepping-stones, for only the
village called ‘Ponte di Savignone’ boasts a stone bridge across the
river for those who are bound for the Baths, and here are houses
gathered on either side of the bridge, finer looking than the smoke-
coloured and thatched cottages. From this point the main road of
the Scrivia valley runs on the farther side of the water.
But I, in my evening ramble, was not bound for the high road nor for
the town of Casella, that lies at the valley’s foot. The old contadino
had spoken of the mountain’s eastern side, when he had pointed
across the gorge to the slopes lying opposite, and he had spoken of
it as la Valle Calda. I did not therefore cross the stone bridge again,
but holding to the right, went in search of this new valley. No
carriage—not even the brave one offered to my notice the evening
before at Busalla—could have held its way upon this road, for the
stones lay looser and larger than ever upon it, and, as it went
farther into the hills, it narrowed, and grew more and more uneven.
Monte Baneo still stood up before me with the valley and the river at
its feet, and to westward the slopes of Antola. Little cottages began
to appear in clusters upon meadows and peeping from among
woods; blue smoke curled into the air from dells and copses,
showing where other human habitations lay hid; then the Campanile
came to sight. It stood close against the hill, and as I came nearer
the bells began gently to chime with gladsome rhythm for the
morrow’s feast of Saint or Virgin.
This was La Valle Calda; and as I stood gazing on the soft and quiet
scene there came an old woman along the road who went across
the mountains weekly with new-laid eggs to sell, and she, greeting
me friendly, as all these peasants do, told me many things of the
country and of the neighbours, and commending me heartily for my
genuine admiration of this valley of her home, she bade me turn my
walk once more to the right till I should reach a village called, she
said, La Madonna della Vittoria, for there should I behold a view
worth the seeing indeed!
So towards the east I turned again, and climbed my way into the
chestnut woods. I left the river behind that had been flowing on my
left through green meadows as I walked from Ponte towards the
chief village of La Valle Calda. I left even this semblance of a high
road, running parallel with the real high road on the stream’s
opposite shore which had seemed so close in the summer air that I
had heard the laughter of the vetturino as he drove his infirm
vehicle, and chattered with his passengers, or urged his horse by
loud vociferations.
My new way was nothing but a mountain path, and a steep one—for
La Madonna della Vittoria stands on a hill. The foot-track winds up
between chestnut groves, rising higher and higher above the banks
of a mountain torrent that in autumn and winter time is turbulent in
its downward rush to the river. Now and again little hamlets appear,
whose houses are ranged and huddled on both sides of the path;
the road grows steeper, and the sides of the ravine, in whose deep
the torrent gurgles, are rough and jagged as you look down upon
them. In this side valley the country is wilder and more bleak, for
there is less room for cultivation. The path creeps round an angle of
the hill, and the long ridge is in sight, where La Madonna della
Vittoria stands between two heads of the mountain. The place takes
its name from a little oratory, sacred to the Virgin of that title. People
come hither in pilgrimage from the parish church; and in times of
blight or of pestilence, of rains or of long drought, processions are
frequent. The chapel is beyond the village, a little farther up on the
hill. If you mount the street and the flight of stone steps that is at
the end of the village, you will come upon the little mound on which
stands the oratory. The piazza is a paved enclosure with a low stone
wall and a stone bench that runs round hemming it in. There are
acacia trees and cypresses against the church, and upon its front a
worn and faded image of the Madonna, with sceptre and crown and
glory, stands where it has stood for many a year within shallow
niche to receive the winds and the rain and the people’s obeisance.
A sharp air blows of an evening around this little piazza upon the
hill, a breeze that is keen to refresh and yet soft enough to soothe.
Sitting upon the little low wall, it blows around, while your looks
stray over the goodly country spread out beneath and about you.
Ranges upon ranges of hills set a girdle on every side. But they are
not hills that tell of a mountainous land far ahead, as do the hills of
Savignone. There is a vague sense of space and freedom here, for
we have turned our faces back again towards the sea. The distance
that your eye can scan seems measureless: hills as far as you can
see—tier rising behind tier, the higher peaks standing forward and
the lower ones peering forth, as it were, from betwixt their
shoulders; hills on every side, but hills whose outlines sink and grow
dim in the filmier light as they near the sea far away. At first the
mountains seem so thickly wedged upon the soil that no room can
remain for places of human habitation; but as you gaze, you see
how the rivers flow down from them, growing wider in their course,
and with space for towns upon the banks. Far out ahead, where the
blue air grows paler, the dim sky sinks down into a silvery line, that
is the Mediterranean. And, perhaps, if the sunset has been clear, and
if the vapours have not arisen to muffle it, you may see in the vague
distance other things that are dim, yet more solid in their dimness,
and these are the islands of the sea; and further up, beyond the sky-
line, forms of dazzling whiteness, and these are peaks of the
Maritime Alps; while below, in the nearest valley, the town of Ponte
Decimo gleams out in the last of the sunlight, and La Madonna della
Vittoria looks down upon it all.
The old pedona had been right when she told me it was worth while
to climb the hill for the sake of the view at its top. I sat a while on
the wall of the little piazza watching the evening vapours creep
down from the mountains, and feeling their breath on my cheek.
Women with children clinging to their skirts, and small, swaddled
babies in their arms, came to make their evening prayer in the
sanctuary—to have their evening gossip in its porch. They greeted
me with courteous grace, and one of them talked long with me,
telling me of the neighbourhood and of its people—rambling on with
stories of her own and of many other villages. They have the true
grace of perfect unconsciousness, the dwellers in these little
Apennine homes, and have no conventionalities, since each acts
upon the moment’s impulse that he may enjoy life to the full. I call
them all to mind, those simple friends of a time long past, and, as I
think of them, I think of summer days when breezes moved silently
amid leaves, and the air was white with heat as it lay clear above
the tender green of chestnut trees.
I think of little rough and quaint villages that are the homes of these
my friends, and, best of all, I remember one village that stands
beneath the crest of a hill, with shady woods and orchards to girdle
it about. Another hill lies over against it, whose graceful form I seem
to see as I write—soft shapes, yet varied that rest upon the sky,
subtle waves and indentations of earth, with which play the lights
and shades of the daylight. It is that village of La Valle Calda,
towards which I turned my steps again after I had looked on the fair
scene from La Vittoria’s hill. A church stands for centre to the parish
—that church with tall campanile and blue-painted belfry—and,
beside the church, an oratory, where the memory of some special
saint is sacred; but the parish itself is scattered far and wide through
copse and over meadow, in hamlets that stand beside streams or on
hill-tops.
The steeple is nevertheless, here as elsewhere, the beacon that can
gather all neighbours together, and beneath it is a piazza with stone
benches around, where at Ave Maria my memory confidently returns
to recall each one of those faces seen long ago. I know I shall find
them there, for I know they must have a goodly portion of gossip
and loitering, and am fain indeed to confess that if foreign sayings
about Italian impetuosity, and easily moved Italian feelings, have
been often exaggerated, these Apennine country people are, on the
other hand, no taciturn race. They are cunning to mould to their use
the lithe tongue of their land, to adorn it with expletives, and to
point it with gesticulation; and it is even this habit of noisy
vociferation which has perhaps won them abroad the character—so
little deserved—for curbless passions and vindictively cruel
propensities. For they are a kindly people in their mutual relations,
and formed by their very nature for warm, social life, since they
need a free neighbourly intercourse, such as quiet and colder
temperaments can scarcely understand.
Hence it is that the life of an Italian community, unlike the
comparatively secretive life of northern lands, is to be learned in its
open thoroughfares rather than its individual homes, and that we
must seek on cottage door-steps, in market-places and piazzas,
where men and women mix freely together, the true colour of the
Italian people.
 At the Chestnut Harvest.

As October days draw nigh to their end there is festival in the

cottages of North Italy. Walking at evening among her mountains
and passing through her homely villages, a red light of wood fire
comes streaming upon you from open cabin doors and from
between the chinks of clumsy window-shutters, and noisy sounds of
revelry fall around. For this is the season when the chestnuts are
ripe, and the peasants are making merry by dark, for the work they
have had during the hours of day, and they are glad for that harvest
which is to them the most bounteous of the year.
In autumn, thunder-storms lower in the Apennine valleys. Torrents
grow turbulent, hurling themselves in foam from the hills around,
and rivers that, in the long drought, have grown meagre, swell
rapidly to great size, fed by rains amid the mountains and by the
hundred little streamlets and torrents that cast themselves noisily
down ravines. The river-beds are wide—so wide that in summer their
barren expanse of shingle looks ill amid the green land—yet now
there is often no room within them for the mass of moving water. It
overflows the banks and swamps the near-lying cultivation, till the
maize plantations lie dashed and the meadows are soft, like bogs. It
carries away the little temporary bridges which, spring after spring,
are newly set across the streams; scarcely can it flow, sometimes,
beneath the arches of more stable bridges that, here and there, are
built for greater security; it damages the weirs, and brooks no
obstacle in its way, flowing swiftly—a great muddy, turbid stream,
that bears upon its breast the trunks or the branches of trees and
many other spoils from off the banks. And year after year the people
know that this may all happen, yet year after year they take no
precautions to shield themselves from evil; they build up no
embankments, turn aside the course of no injurious waters, only,
laughing they say, or sighing, ‘It is time that the great waters
descend.’
And during the present month they are almost sure to descend,
once, at least, with all their power of devastation, for the best of the
sunshine has taken its leave of the land by the end of October. Down
in the more level parts of the valleys, where the meadows lie, little
cottages look out ruefully from amid the dripping walnuts, their
thatched roofs damp and glistening in the wet; and higher up,
among the chestnut woods, sad leaves lie damp upon the ground,
where the mossy turf is so moist, that mushrooms are spoiled ere
they be grown. The country looks tenderly forlorn, that was so gay
with its vintage in September. Trees shed their foliage early in
chestnut-wooded districts, and already tints have little left that is
freshly green, but leaves are yellow upon boughs, and scattered day
by day more thickly to earth. There is no hot sunshine, no blue light
that is misty with heat; yet the valleys can still smile in their soberer
mood when chance and glorious sunbeams strike across the land, or
when the rain ceases and bright days come back, here and there,
with warmer breezes. Swollen rivers abate if the deluge cease only
for a day, and as you walk upon their banks the waters are limpid
again, yet green from their depth with an intenser colour.
And wandering beneath the chestnuts, no sense of damp or
dreariness oppresses now that sunshine is abroad once more, for
yellow-tinted leaves wave brightly overhead, and yellower leaves,
that are scattered, rustle pleasantly beneath your feet, while now
and again a quick sound breaks the stillness, and that is the fall of
the fruit. Since the middle of October you might have heard it when
you were in the woods, for the chestnuts began to ripen at that time
and the brown-burnished fruit to peep from out its prickly shell. But
scarcely before the end of the month does the chestnut harvest
begin in earnest in the Apennines. There are divers kinds of
chestnuts, and the gathering of each dates properly from a different
day: the so-called ‘timely chestnuts,’ that ripen before the commoner
sorts—but this variety is rarer and the fruit finer than that of others
—the late chestnuts, such as, of their own accord, do not fall
sometimes till November—though these trees are often thrashed
during the general harvest for the greater convenience of the
gatherers.
Companies of women and girls greet you now upon your walks.
They have little bags of sackcloth slung around their waists, and
rough wooden tweezers in their hands, with which they open the
spiked husks, where the fruit lies yet in its green case. They are
merry; they laugh and talk, their shrill Italian voices sounding shriller
to English ears in the harsh Genoese dialect. It is a season of
festivity. The festa of the ‘Santi’ has but lately passed, and there is
much interchange of colloquial news and much surmising on parish
matters, with a little gossip and neighbourly scandal mixed
therewith.
The ‘Santi’ is the last great feast of the year until Christmas be
come, and it is treated with much solemnity throughout the whole of
Italy. The ‘Giorno dei Morti’ is likewise a great day among the
people, but then the pageant is one of mourning and of woe. Black
garments are donned by those who have lost friends during the year,
and little charms and candles are sold throughout the streets of the
towns, with black and yellow garlands of everlastings, with which
people are wont to adorn the graves. Yet there always seems to be
as much excitement around this day as any other. Southern feelings
love so dearly to be moved, that apparently it matters little whether
it be to joy or to grief.
However, this great homage to the day of the dead seems to be
confined more to the cities, and beneath the chestnuts, where our
people are gathering up the harvest, there is little talk of sadness.
Here a man has come to the aid of the girls, and has climbed to the
top of a huge tree, that he may the better thrash down the fruit. It
falls in prickly showers upon the crackling dead leaves below, but the
women seem little to fear any hurt from thorns, for they tread boldly
amid the heap, often with bare feet, and take the harsh shells within
their hands to open them. All day the people are at work. They are
almost all women at this task, for the men are labouring in the
fields. Some few of them return home at midday to cook and to
carry the dinner for brothers and husbands without, but most of
them remain in the woods till dusk, and eat their cold ‘polenta’ at
midday, resting upon the banks. Towards dark the great baskets are
piled up that have been filled all day from each woman’s sack, and
then the girls lift them upon their heads or their shoulders, and pick
their way deftly along the stony paths with the burthens. Sometimes
the loads are too heavy and must be left for the men, but this does
not often happen, for these peasant women are strong, with a
beautiful ease of strength, and proud of their power.

GATHERING THE CHESTNUTS.

So, whether the day has been dark and cheerless, or whether the
kind autumn sunshine has been there to brighten up all anew into a
beauty more beautiful than summer-time, the women have been at
work in the woods, and now the recreation hour has come. Within
cottages great fires are lit upon hearths that are in the chamber’s
midst, and the pot is put on to boil; rough wooden benches are
drawn around, and men and women meet after their labour to
commemorate, with fun and jollity, the first of the chestnuts. Upon
each successive evening they meet in different cottages according to
the help they have lent to one another during the day; land is not
rented in the Apennines, neither do the people labour for pay, but
each has his small homestead according to his wealth, and cultivates
the ground himself, men and women helping their neighbours during
every pressing season, as they themselves expect to be helped in
turn.
When the ‘minestra’ has been eaten, or the ‘polenta’ then the pot is
taken off, with the great chain from whence it hung, and the
‘padella’ is brought forth, upon which chestnuts are to be roasted.
The red wood fire flares and flickers upon the hearth amid its heap
of embers, throwing fitful dashes of light upon faces around—copper
vessels and platters make sudden gleam upon dingy walls. Again the
bold flames die away, and there is only a lurid mass of cinders, and
then the women toss chestnuts in the pan and the men slit the
brown hide of other chestnuts that are yet unroasted, and they all
chatter and gesticulate the while in a fashion so quick and eager and
with voices so high and thrilling, that foreign ears, to whom the shrill
dialect is unknown, might fairly hear therein the words of an angry
quarrel.
And sometimes there are quarrels even at these scenes of
merriment. Italian natures are hot, and Italian women are jealous,
besides being coquettes too, in their way, with often prudent or
mercenary considerations, so that wrangles come and altercations;
but they make it up again most times, and do not seem to break
their hearts.
The women are not, as a rule, beautiful hereabouts. They are
superbly built and powerful, with graceful movements, but their
faces belong to a heavy-featured type that lacks much in delicacy of
form, even though the ruddy pallor of colouring might atone for
many deficiencies. The splendour of dark eyes can sometimes
scarcely kindle them into real brilliancy, nevertheless these women
have their lives to live and their wars to wage, and they bear the
tokens, in themselves beautiful, of toil and the labour of living.
The chestnut harvest lasts some three weeks or more, and, when
the fruit is all gathered in, it is spread above the open rafters that
form the roof of every kitchen in these Italian cottages—there to be
dried during winter by the fire’s heat from below. And when the
chestnuts are dried, and the outer skin has been cracked off by the
heat, then they are ground in a mill, so that the flour goes to make
bread and cakes and porridge during the barren season, when there
is little fresh food to be got by the poor. The dried chestnuts are
boiled whole likewise, and in one form or another the common
production of the woods provides nourishment, during this time, for
all the peasants throughout the land.
 Under the Cherry Trees.
The Bridal.

Summer sunshine lies gladly upon the green hill-sides of la Valle

Calda. It moves in broken light over the warm green of broad-leaved
chestnut trees that daintily sweep the turf with their branches, it
quivers across the stream’s passing wave, or rests in a sheet of silver
upon the still pools of the slowly flowing river. Flowers bloom gayer
and breathe forth a stronger scent for its goodly radiance, summer
fruits ripen the sooner. For these are June days, that I call to mind,
as I think of la Valle Calda, that fairest of North Apennine valleys,
and the wild cherries are ripe upon the land, the lads and the
maidens are merry, for to-morrow is the Feast of St. John and the
bridal day of Caterina Ponte.
In the hamlets around, excitement has waxed high these many days
past. St. John is the patron saint of this little church that stands so
simply beside the green background of the richly-wooded mountain,
with belfry tower whose top seems almost to lie against the far
horizon clouds. St. John is the saint to whom most honour is due
from the dwellers in this particular parish. There will be a procession
to-morrow, and that would be grave enough matter, even without
the wedding of the prettiest girl in our village.
Down by the river’s brink, where the tall cherry trees grow whose
large black fruit will not be ripe yet awhile, the morrow’s bride has
had her home these twenty years long. Her cottage roof is thatched
and moss-grown, as the roofs of all the other cottages that are here
gathered together into a hamlet—one of the many hamlets that go
to make up the parish.
The father’s homestead, where Caterina has lived away her life till
to-day, is nothing but a low, one-storeyed house, that has no
chimney to its roof and no glass to its windows, blackened around
where the smoke has made its way; there are rough wooden
shutters to keep out the night air and the coldest of winter blasts,
but, in these happy dog-days, is no need to fear the fresh breath of
the outside breezes, and, upon the sills, carnations bloom in pots,
with marjoram and rosemary for the soup-flavouring, and marsh-
mallow for the healing of hurts. The stone steps are uneven that
lead to the threshold; the kitchen is dark, above the loose rafters of
which chestnuts lie all winter time to dry with the heat of the fire
below; a great black pot is hanging now over the red embers on the
square centre-hearth, and Caterina knows every dint in those bright
copper vessels that gladden the gloomy walls—every sunken brick in
the floor. No wonder she sorrows a little to leave the hard bench
where she has sat so often to fan the flame or—one among many—
to roast chestnuts of an autumn evening; no wonder she drops a
passing regret to the broken stone balcony without the door, where
ofttimes she has stood gossiping with neighbours beneath the
trellised vine or has listened to the ready vows of village swains!
Though she be going to a better cottage, where there are windows
and even a chimney, Caterina can still be sorry to leave the yellow
gourd flowers that trail across the ground in the garden of her
girlhood, will still perchance miss awhile the Michaelmas daisies, the
sunflowers, the tomatoes, and even her own pet fruit-orchard
stretching across green grass towards the river. But though she sigh
a furtive sigh for all this, the vows of the one particular swain have
been heard and registered now, so there must be a good-bye for
ever to anything the others might have had to say, and this must be
the last day even for the gossip of a maiden.
Where the land leaves the river-side and swells up into hills, wild
cherries grow better than in low-lying orchards, and it is the wild
cherries that are ripe for the feast of St. John; so that now, while it
is yet daytime, girls of the village are still plucking the fruit, up
among those further plantations, nor will be down till dark for the
last chat beneath the vine of Caterina’s maiden home.
The trees are small and slender trees whereon grow the amarene,
bitter wild cherries of our country, and it needs but the deftness of a
light-footed mountain girl quickly to climb them, while the strength
of some other tall Apennine maiden can boldly reach down branches
with long arm and lithe figure, cruelly to strip them of the glistening,
ruddy fruit.
Margaret and Virginia, Paula and Bianca are there at work, and they
are favourite friends of the bride, and will hold a good place in the
morrow’s ceremonies. ‘Yes, yes, he is rich, I tell you; she will be
married in no dress of homespun! The stuff is to be of real wool! You
will see!’ says one. ‘What luck, and she the poorest of us all,’ sighs
another damsel for reply, and breaks the full-laden bough of a low
little tree as she speaks. ‘But I grudge her no good fortune. Our turn
will come, girls, and meanwhile who can put the garlic so justly into
the pot, who can knead the maize so smoothly or the dough for
household bread, who can mend a man’s suit or iron his shirt better
than Caterina of the Walnut Cottage?’ The bride’s old home is thus
named in the parish because of the fine nut trees that grow beside
and around it. ‘See the fine cherry bough,’ pursues this last speaker;
‘she shall have it for gift in sign of prosperity.’ The luscious, bright
fruit hangs in richest clusters from this slender stem; such tender
stalks seem scarce able to uphold the heavy knots. Beside the
crimson berries grow tufts of pale leaves, the same leaves that a
moment before have had the soft blue sky behind their young green
for background and the summer sunlight shining through them.
‘Truly it is pretty!’ say the girls in chorus, and then they all agree that
Caterina has deserved so fortunate a fate as that which will be hers
to-morrow ere noon, and they slake their thirst with the tart cherry-
juice, the while they pile baskets with the spoil, and weary their
lungs with talk and laughter, if not their limbs with toil.
So do evening shadows begin to creep over the soft slopes of those
tender-carven hills, begin to lie darkly in their ravines; and when the
ebbing sunlight is near to leaving the frail outlines alone upon the
sky, then the bells of St. John’s strike their gladsome chime, for to-
morrow is the day of the patron saint. It is the girls’ token that the
day is done, and each lifts a basket to the head of a comrade ere,
with firm step—the step that comes easy to women of such strong
and graceful figure—they descend the mountain path towards home
and a gossip with the bride. And all the while the bells are ringing so
noisily, so wildly hurrying in merriest triplets, so loudly pealing with
deep bass voice now and then, that even Virginia’s clear tones, and
the chatter of other three good lungs besides, can scarce make
themselves heard above the din.
If yesterday was a happy day when things were bright and hearts
were glad, to-day is better a thousand times, with sun that is hotter
and land that lies fairer before the eyes: so thinks the bride, and so
think those four girls who are the bride’s friends. Many a little half-
hour went by last night while these five told old tales and fancied
new wonders, as they sat on the old wall beneath the vine, in the
growing summer darkness. The wedding gown was handled and
criticised, so were the wedding garments and the bride’s little dowry
of household linen, that she and her mother and her mother’s sister
had been spinning and weaving on the rough handloom these many
months past. So was that fine young man criticised—the betrothed—
who had been able to furnish his house so suitably, and had given
the bridal gold of such massive weight and fine workmanship!
 Gossip.
These five told old tales and fancied new wonders, as they sat on
the old wall beneath the vine, in the growing summer darkness.

But past discussions, past surmises are all over now: the wedding
morning is here. Upon the hedgerows that hem the path all the way
from this river-side hamlet to the church, there has glossy homespun
linen been hung in long lengths for adornment, with red and yellow
church properties between, that have belonged to the vestry for
processions these twenty years. This is all for St. John’s Day, and so
are the flower-heads of gorse and poppy that strew the ground, the
fresh-plucked posies in the little shrine on the bridge. But Caterina
gets the benefit of it all notwithstanding.
The marriage is to be at eleven. It will not be in the church, but
when the ring has wedded bride and bridegroom, and the sacred
words that bind them have been spoken by the priest in the priest’s
own house, then Caterina and her husband will come before the
great altar for benediction, and that is the only part of a wedding
which the congregation may see in Italy. The villagers are
nevertheless assembled on the piazza just in front of the church,
that they may see the bridal pass, because the priest’s house is just
behind the church, and even Caterina, in all her glory, must pass
under the arch of the belfry, and up between the two trimmed box-
hedges to-day, just as she has passed up many a time before with
the tithes in kind or the priest’s best linen from the wash.
All the village children cry aloud, for the bride is in sight. ‘See! the
dress is really of woollen stuff,’ whisper the women, and the men
make comment on her comely person, for truly Caterina is a pretty
girl. Her white stockings and clean bright shoes are neat (small are
the dainty feet they clothe, say the village swains); her dress is
costly for a peasant bride, the gold about her neck—gold that is no
vanity here, because it is the bride’s invariable marriage portion—the
gold in her ears and hair is of good quality, the muslin veil is fresh
and fine, that drapes head and figure, after her country’s costume;
but best of all is Caterina’s proud and merry face, best are her deep,
brown eyes, her strong, lithe frame, and the healthy blood that flows
beneath her olive skin. Caterina is a handsome girl, but, more
precious in the sight of her bridegroom, she is a sound woman, fit to
be a peasant’s wife.
Laughing—half with shyness, half with pleasure—the bride and the
bride’s mother pass first through the little archway: the wedding
party follows after. In the kitchen of the priest’s house—which is the
entrance to his oratory and to all the rest of his abode—more
admiration, more talk and wonderment from the old housekeeper,
delay the couple awhile on their road. Caterina must be examined
from top to toe while the men stand impatient at such female
frivolity, and the guests are gathered, waiting, beneath the wide-
spreading vine-trellis of the priest’s garden, or beside the trickling
fountain in its midst. Everybody is glad when the ring has been put
on—(Caterina has already twenty-three gold rings on different
fingers, all part of her only dowry)—everybody sighs a little sigh of
relief when the last Latin words have been spoken, of that ceremony
which is about the same in all lands and in all religions. Nothing of
importance occurs—only once a candle on the altar goes out
unaccountably, and Caterina is frightened at the evil omen—a
woman and an Italian peasant, she must needs be superstitious! But
all the same, it serves for conversation at the wedding feast. The
priest has had his comfit-box with the gold coins hidden within it;
the old housekeeper has not been forgotten, since this bridegroom is
not of the poorest; the wedding party descend into the church.
And, when the exhortations are said and the benediction has been
given, Caterina is quite a married woman. The neighbours may have
their fill of comment and admiration now, and the children their
portion of comfits which Caterina scatters among them. Good words
and bad words—ejaculations and laughter—fly to and fro, and
resound under the trees of the cherry orchard, where they eat the
marriage feast. Everybody is contented. Even the girls who have no
husbands, and the fathers who have more mouths to feed than
money withal to feed them, are glad to-day; for the sun shines and
the harvests are all yet to come, and the winter is a long way off,
and the bells ring merrily, for it is the Feast of St. John. And when
they have done ringing for morning ceremonies and the marriage,
they begin again for afternoon ceremonies and the procession.
There, Caterina walks with her husband, and sees Bianca in her own
old place, carrying the great cross in front. The pop-guns are fired,
the procession has been round the meadows by the well, and is near
home again. And the bells’ ringing dies away slowly, as banners and
crosses are lowered beneath the porch. The lads and lasses have
their simple dance on the green by the river, and the day of St. John
sinks away into night.
Cherry trees still bloom and bear fruit in that North Apennine valley.
Walking in and out amid the little frail trees, brushing the quaker’s
grass and ragged robin, and treading down the buttercups and
daisies, you might look up to see the ripe and ruddy fruit overhead,
and listening, hear just such joyous voices as I have written of—
voices of laughing maidens stripping the orchards’ cherry-trees. But
Caterina would not be there, nor Virginia nor Bianca, nor any of the
girls that I know, even though upon the stillness of the waning day
there might come to you a sound of bells—joyful pealing bells—such
as those that ring in the Feast of St. John.