his companions, and went off with the ladies.

Dick took the lead of the party on the return home. They viewed the
conduct of Buttons with displeasure. The Senator did not show his
usual serenity. The party were all riding on donkeys. To do this on
the minute animals which the Neapolitans furnish it is necessary to
seat one's self on the stern of the animal, and draw the legs well
up, so that they may not trail on the ground. The appearance of the
rider from behind is that of a Satyr dressed in the fashion of the
nineteenth century. Nothing can be more ridiculous than the sight
of a figure dressed in a frock-coat and beaver hat, and terminated
by the legs and tail of a donkey.

As it was getting late the party harried. The donkeys were put on the
full gallop. First rode the guide, then the others, last of whom was
the Senator, whose great weight was a sore trial to the little donkey.

They neared Pozzuoli, when suddenly the Senator gave his little beast
a smart whack to hasten his steps. The donkey lost all patience. With
a jump he leaped forward. Away he went, far ahead of the others. The
saddle whose girth was rather old, slipped off. The Senator held on
tightly. In vain! Just as he rounded a corner formed by a projecting
sandbank the donkey slipped. Down went the rider; down went the donkey
also--rider and beast floundering in the dusty road.

A merry peal of ill-suppressed laughter came from the road-side as he
rolled into view. It came from a carriage. In the carriage were the
Spaniards--there, too, was Buttons.

[Illustration: Senator And Donkey.]

CHAPTER IX.

A DRIVE INTO THE COUNTRY.--A FIGHT WITH A VETTURINO.--THE EFFECT OF
EATING "HARD BOILED EGGS."--WHAT THEY SAW AT PAESTUM.--FIVE TEMPLES
AND ONE "MILL."

To hire a carriage in Naples for any length of time is by no means
an easy thing. It is necessary to hold long commune with the
proprietor, to exert all the wiles of masterly diplomacy to circumvent
cunning by cunning, to exert patience, skill, and eloquence. After a
decision has been reached, there is but one way in which you can hold
your vetturino to his bargain, and that is to bind him to it by
securing his name to a contract. Every vetturino has a printed form
all ready. If he can't write his name, he does something equally
binding and far simpler. He dips his thumb in the ink-bottle and
stamps it on the paper. If that is not his signature, what else
is it?

"Thus," said one, "S