roper management, a great deal of bread, which is not very
dear, can be consumed with a few eggs. One of the number was luxuriating
in _agradolce_--meat stewed with preserved prunes or cherries--a dish
which many travelers have laughed at in Germany, but have never observed
in 'classic Italy.'

'_E che volete, Signori?_' from the once white-aproned waiter, aroused
our artists to a sense of duty; and fried ham, eggs, bread, and wine,
with a salad, were ordered, slowly brought, and ham and eggs quickly
finished and again furnished, much to the astonishment of a family of
peasants who had entered while they were eating, and who watched the
plates of ham and eggs disappear as if it were a feat of jugglery. After
supper came coffee and segars, and the sight of one of the soldiers of
the patrol, who came in to have a glass of _sambuca_, his blue uniform
in good condition, his carbine brightly shining. After the horses were
well rested, the _vettura_ again started, as the first faint light of
day shone in the east. About two miles from Valmontone, they commenced
the ascent of the mountains, and shortly had two oxen attached to help
drag their vehicle upward. The road wound along a mountain side--a
ravine far below them--and from its base arose a high conical mountain
opposite to them, as they slowly toiled upward. Again and again they
pulled through heavy clouds of mist hanging around the mountain side,
emerging above them only again to enter others. Finally it cleared; and
over the mountains, beyond the valley yet white with the morning dews,
they saw the red sun rise clear and sparkling; while high above their
heads, perched on mountain top and side, loomed out the old, gray,
time-worn walls of Segni. The _vettura_ came to a halt under the shade
of some old mulberry trees, and our travelers descended to leave it
where it was, for the town was not built with a view to the entrance of
carriages.

SUNDAY IN THE CAMPAGNA.

Leaving the _vettura_, they mounted the steep road, seeing above them
the ruined walls, once the ramparts of the town, crowned by gray old
houses with tiled roofs rising one over the other, and soon entered the
Maggiore Gate with its round arch, its architecture noting a time when
Segni was not quite the unknown place it now is. As they entered the
gate, seeing the cleanly-dressed country people seated on the stone
benches under its shadow--the women with their blue woolen shawls formed
into coifs falling