e them individually:

First. Breakfast, consisting of eggs, bread, butter, fruit in season,
one dish of meat, a pint of good wine, and a cup of coffee.

Second. Dinner; soup, boiled meat, roast meat, vegetables, bread,
butter, fish occasionally, one pint of wine, salad, dessert.

Third. Supper; one dish of meat, bread, butter, salad, and pint of wine.

Fourth. A bed-chamber for each one, with the use of the main room.

It was moreover agreed and covenanted, that for the extra sum of two
baiocchi each one, he would provide a cup of coffee and sugar after
dinner.

This is the Italian mode of proceeding; and when you have done thus, you
will rarely find any trouble, either in receiving what you have agreed
for, or in being overcharged. Justice to Gaetano Colajamo, keeper of the
locanda at Segni, demands that it should be here witnessed that he
faithfully and truly kept the agreement thus made; that after six months
spent with him by Caper, he found that Gaetano had acted fairly,
squarely, honestly, and manfully with him, from the day of his arrival
until he shook hands at parting. May his tribe increase!

Leaving the hotel, they found a cafe near the Maggiore Gate, and learned
that coffee was to be had there only on Sundays and festivals, the
demand for it on other days being so small that it would not pay to make
it. After coffee, Caper proposed a ramble up-town, and the trio sallied
out, succeeding by dint of perseverance, and digging their heels firmly
in the pavement, in climbing up the main street, which was about ten
feet wide and very steep, an angle of forty-five degrees about
describing its inclination, and as it was paved with limestone cubes
worn smooth by the iron shoes of clambering horses and donkeys, it was
difficult at times to prevent slipping. The irregularity of the front of
the houses, and their evident want of repairs, in fact, their general
tumble-down look, relieved here and there by a handsome middle-age
doorway or window on the first floor, while the second story would show
a confused modern wall of rubble-work and poverty-stricken style of
architecture generally; all these contrasts brought out the picturesque
element in force. As they passed a row of iron-grated windows a rough,
hairy hand was thrust nearly into Rocjean's face, with the request that
he would bestow a baioccho for charity on the owner.

'What are you doing in there?' asked Dexter.

'Nothing, nothing. Santa Maria! I am an