that on which we took
steamer to Lido, one of the narrow islands lying between the Adriatic
Sea and the lagoon of Venice, which acts as a kind of natural breakwater
to Venice. It was quite a treat to set foot on _terra firma_ once more,
for here we did find real land, and at least a horse and carriage to
convey us if needed.

The public gardens on the Lido were a gift to the Venetians from
Bonaparte, who pulled down a great many buildings, not even sparing
those which were consecrated, in order to give them a public promenade.
It was laid out in 1810 by Giannantino Selna, and though nothing very
grand, affords real delight and refreshment to the people, who enjoy
many a frolicsome dance here on summer nights. We had our luncheon
outside the _Cafe_, where we enjoyed the sight of the bright waves which
tumbled in so briskly at our feet, and the breath of the fresh breeze
which blew off the Adriatic Sea facing us. After our brief rest, we had
a glorious walk on the sandy shore, where "little trembling grasses"
grew on the edges of the sea, and shells lay scattered about in
infinite profusion and variety. Our spirits rose with the invigorating
freshness of the scene, and we returned to Venice by the evening steamer
as delighted as children, with handkerchiefs full of sea-shore
treasures.

We also made an interesting expedition one morning to the Venetian Glass
and Mosaic Works on the Grand Canal. We here saw how the beautiful
mosaics are designed and adjusted, and how the delicate, rainbow-tinted
glass is blown and spun into any imaginable design one might desire. I
brought away a fanciful little souvenir in the shape of a large head or
top of a pin, on which my initials appeared in divers colours,
interwoven with flowers by the intelligent workman.

We visited several palaces and churches, but found nothing of particular
interest save some very beautiful silk tapestry, studded with precious
stones, which covered the altar in the church of the Jesuits.

I do not think I should care to spend a very long period in the moated
imprisonment of the Sun-girt City, especially during the summer, when
canal malaria and fever is rife; and should certainly never think, like
Shelley, of forming any plans "never to leave sweet Venice." I must,
however, confess that for a certain time there is an irresistible
attraction and fascination in the unique kind of life one is forced to
lead here. The evenings are peculiarly enjoyable. The li