"The harvest days are at hand."
From "Mr. Peasley and His Vivid Impressions of Foreign Parts", a piece from George Ade's witty fictional travelogue In Pastures New:
This morning we are basking in the crystal sunlight of Naples - the blue bay, with the crescent outline on one side, the white walls of the mounting city on the other, Vesuvius looming in the distance behind a hazy curtain, and tourists crowding the landscape in the immediate foreground.
Three big steamers are lying at anchor within the breakwater - one from Genoa, one from Marseilles, and one from New York - and all heavily laden with Americans, some sixty of whom will be our fellow-passengers to Alexandria. The hotels are overflowing with Yankee pilgrims, and every Neapolitan who has imitation coral and celluloid tortoise shell for sale is wearing an expectant smile.
The jack-rabbit horses attached to the ramshackle little victorias lean wearily in their shafts, for these are busy days. The harvest days are at hand. The Americans have come.
Ade is probably my favorite humorist. I never tire of reading his work.