nhabitants, who, on sunny days, seemed to do much of their domestic
work out of doors, and to peel potatoes, wash salads, cook on charcoal
braziers, sew, mend shoes, make lace, and pursue many other vocations on
the pavements in front of the houses, and so far from being disturbed by
onlookers, would smile and even wave friendly hands at the strangers on
the tramcar.

"That darling old soul in the green apron blew me a kiss," chuckled
Delia. "She looks as happy as a queen, though she's probably living on
about ten cents a day."

"Did you see them dressing the baby on the pavement?" squealed Stella.
"They were winding it round and round in yards of bandages _exactly_
like old Italian pictures. I didn't know it was done nowadays."

"Oh! Look at the carts drawn by bullocks."

"And the lamb with its fleece all combed out and tied with blue
ribbons."

"That's because it's Mid-Lent."

"Don't you see the baby donkey? There! Quick!"

In her efforts to watch everything at once Delia craned her neck through
the window of the car and away went her school hat, sailing over a
bridge and down into a deep ravine below, lost forever so far as she was
concerned, as the tram certainly would not stop and wait while she
searched for it.

"You've come down a peg in life, old sport, that's all," laughed
Carrie. "In Italy wearing a hat is a sign of gentility. No work-girl
ever has one on her head even on Sundays. I offered a cast-off of mine
to the _bonne_ at a hotel once, and she eyed it longingly, but said she
daren't wear it if she took it, her friends would think it such swank."

"What do they have on in church then?" asked Delia.

"Handkerchiefs, of course. Every Neapolitan has one handy to slip round
her head at the church door. It must save millinery bills."

"And they all have the most beautiful hair. Hello! Here we are at the
terminus. What a crowd of beggars. They look like brigands waiting to
pounce on us. Help!"

Once out of the shelter of the tramcar the girls made the unpleasant
discovery that in Italy begging is not forbidden, but quite a recognized
profession with certain of the poorer classes. They were immediately
surrounded by a ragged rabble, some of whom exhibited sores or other
unsightly afflictions to compel compassion, and all of whom held out
dirty hands and persistently clamored for money. The blind, the halt,
and the maimed were there, evidently regarding tourists as their
legitimate prey, and bent up