They will readily call to mind the long series of
arcades that form the two long sides of the parallellogram which has
the gorgeous front of St. Mark's church occupying the entirety of one
of the shorter sides. Well, about halfway up the length of the piazza
six of the arches on the right hand of one facing St. Mark's church
are occupied by the celebrated caffe. The six never-closed rooms,
corresponding each with one of the arches of the arcade, are very
small, and would not suffice to accommodate a twentieth part of the
throng which finds itself at Florian's quite as a matter of course
every fine summer's night. But nobody thinks of entering these
smartly-furnished little cabinets save for breakfast or during the
hours of the day. Some take their evening ice or coffee on the seats
under the arcade, either immediately in front of the cabinets
or around the pillars which support the arches, and thus have an
opportunity of observing the never-ceasing and ever-varying stream of
life that flows by them under the arcade. But the vast majority of the
crowd place themselves on chairs arranged around little tables set out
on the flags of the piazza. A hundred or so of these little tables
are placed in long rows extending far out into the piazza, and far on
either side beyond the extent of the six arches which are occupied by
the caffe itself. A London or New York policeman would have his very
soul revolted, and conclude that there must be something very rotten
indeed in the state of a city in which the public way could be thus
encumbered and no cry of "move on" ever heard.
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