er part of them, while the elders applauded vociferously, entering
into the amusement with a reckless spirit of fun and good nature, which
people who have to keep shady nine tenths of the year for fear of their
rulers, are very apt to indulge in the remaining tenth.

Elisa, the daughter of the Roman family, received Caper with hearty
welcome, chiding him for having been all summer at Segni, and yet not
coming near them, and entreating him to come to Genazzano and make them
a long visit. She introduced him at once to her affianced husband, a
handsome young doctor of the town, a man of sterling ability and sound
common sense, who very soon made Caper at home, insisted on his dancing
the _Tarantella_ and _Saltarella Napolitana_ with a lively, lithe young
lady, who cut our artist's heart to fiddlestrings before they had danced
five minutes together a polka--for let the truth be told, Caper never
could dance the Tarantella.

Wardor, in the meantime, had been led off in triumph to a side-table,
and was making a very hearty second dinner; he not having force of mind
enough to do like Caper and refuse a good offer! Caper had to drink a
few tumblers (not wine-glasses) of wine, and found it beneficial in
dancing. It may be as well to repeat here, in order to calm all
apprehensions of our artist being a hard drinker, that all these wines
around Rome, with few exceptions, are little stronger than mild sweet
cider, and that satiety will generally arrive before inebriety. Ask any
sober and rigorously correct traveller, who has ever been there, if this
is not so. If he speaks from experience, he will say: 'Certainly!' 'Of
course!' 'To be sure!' And again: 'Why not?'

It is not asserted here that the Romans of the city or surrounding
country never get tipsy; but that it is only occasionally they have
change enough to do so; consequently, a beautiful state of sobriety is
observed by those travellers who--never observe anything.

The moon was shining over the old gate-towers of Genazzano when Caper
mounted his horse, and, in company with two Segnians, rode forth from
the fifth _festa_, and over the hills through Cavi, and over the valley
past Valmontone, and then up the steep road to his summer home;
wondering if in far-away America they were dreaming of a man who was
going through a course of weekly Fourth-of-July's, and how long it would
be before the world came to an end if such a state of things existed in
any country where people