Once upon a time there was a girl who lived in an ancient northern city. In the winter, the snow hurled its fury at the walls, and only the inhabitants dared brave the streets. But in the summer- oh, the summer! Then the city was so beautiful and gracious that people came from the ends of the earth to marvel at the palaces and rest in the fragrant gardens. One day the girl was out on a walk with three friends. Oh, the sight these girls made as they wandered. One watched the sunset with melting brown eyes; another smiled through her long lashes at the birds in the trees. One tossed her glossy chestnut curls in the evening wind and the fourth laughed through cherry lips at the freedom of such an evening.

Suddenly, there arose an obstacle in their path. No longer could the four happy maidens walk side by side and converse sweetly. They must needs walk around two laborers and a carriage in the path. They carefully began moving to the side to pass, and as their bubbling speech paused, one of the men spoke to the other. The girl who lived in the city had learned some of the tongue when she moved there, and caught the word 'Touristka.'
"Ah," she thought to herself wisely, "They think we are tourists. To be sure, we are not blonde, and are not tall, and are not dressed in tall slippers, as are their maidens. But even were we clothed the same, they might have known we are not of their kind. Because- alas!- they can hardly ignore how our Anglo-Saxon words fall at a quicker, more lively pace than those of their Slavic graciousness...."

And while she pondered in this manner, it was as if one of the laborers had heard her very thoughts. And, indeed, were it not so, he must have noted their bonnie dark looks and warm nature. And he spoke to them.

"Buona sera."