know,' said Caper, 'that in some countries all these labors are
done by steam?'

It is dangerous to tell great truths; and after our artist had spoken,
he saw, by the expression of the man's face, that he had placed himself
in danger; but suddenly the cigar-seller's face was illuminated with
intelligence, as he exclaimed:

'Oh, you mean that infernal thing that goes _boo-hoo-hoo_? I saw it when
I was in Rome, last week: it's going to drag cars to Civita Vecchia on
the iron road.'

'That's it,' answered Caper, greatly relieved.

'_Benissimo!_ we never had anything of the kind; and what is more, WE
DON'T WANT ONE!'

Caper walked out, determined to write to New York, and beg some of the
good people there to save a few missionaries from death among the
Fejees, and send them to Segni, where there was a wide field open for
the dissemination of knowledge.

Passing along, he next came to the small square in front of the church,
where once every week a market was held: here he found a man, who had
just arrived with fresh fish from Terracina--the Terracina of the opera
of 'Fra Diavolo.' Among the small fish, sardines, &c., which were
brought to town that day, in time for Friday's dinner, when every one
kept _vigilia_, was one large fish, which our artist determined to buy
and present to his landlord at the inn. He asked its price.

'That fish,' said the fishman, 'is for the dinner of the Illustrissimo
and Reverendissimo Monsignore the Bishop; and if you were to turn every
scale in its body into baioccho, _and give them all to me_, you couldn't
have it.'

Caper was sorely tempted to turn the scales in his own favor, for he
knew, if he were to pay well, he could bear off the fish triumphantly,
spite of the seller's declaration; but a thought of the sore affliction
he would bring into the mind of the fat old gentleman in purple, with a
gold chain around his neck, who rejoiced in the name of bishop, deterred
him from his heretical proceeding, and he walked away in deep
meditation.

The patron saint of Segni is San Bruno; and, to do him honor, every
other male baby born in the town is called Bruno; so our artist, in his
walks around town, heard this name howled, cried, screamed, shrieked,
called, and appealed to, on an average once in five minutes, through the
hours when the male inhabitants were about and awake. This similarity in
names was, by no means, accompanied by similarity in appearance, for
there were more light-