NINETY ON SUNDAY, Mr. Bernard Berenson remains as ener- getic
as when he first bought I Tatti, his villa at Settignano, fifty years ago, and the routine of his well-ordered life has changed little. His correspondence with friends all over the world is maintained with a meticulousness rare in these days of intermittent dictators. His working hours are as long and as regular as ever, though he complains that he doesn't get as much done in the time. He entertains guests of all nations, slipping effortlessly from one language to another. He goes for long walks every day, to the despair of some of his less athletic visitors. And he travels, when the spirit moves him, to see new places or renew his acquaintance with pictures or buildings. Recently he has been in Libya. Sicily and Naples; and his birthday is being spent in Rome.
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