e and eat upon the sidewalk,
and it is a funny sight to see the boys swallowing macaroni.

"Many of the rooms in which the people sleep seem to be spaces left in
the foundation of a castle, with no windows or doors in the openings.
Often the castles seem to be ruined hills; and they have great holes
in their barren sides, like caverns in the sides of cliffs; and we see
barred doorways instead of windows, with dungeons beyond.

"Then suddenly the hills blossom out into ramparts and parapets, so
that it is impossible to distinguish between hills and castles; and to
puzzle us still more, long flights of steps lead up between hilly
castles and castled hills.

"Occasionally we see a group of basket-makers, or tailors, or
shoemakers on the sidewalks among the family groups of fathers,
mothers and children. A little beyond such a group we saw yesterday a
herd of goats resting comfortably in the shade, also on the sidewalk.

"Early in the morning these goats are driven through the streets. They
stop in front of a doorway, a woman runs out with a cup, the man milks
her cup full and then drives on to the next doorway. Sometimes, if the
woman lives on an upper floor of the house, one of the goats is driven
up the stairs, to be milked at her very door.

"We see rich people, also, driving in their splendid carriages on
their most beautiful boulevard, overlooking the blue bay; and in
contrast to them and their spirited horses, a contadino will come
bringing a load of produce to market from the country, driving a white
cow harnessed between a full-grown horse and a tiny mule."

While the American girl was marvelling at the queer mingling of riches
and poverty in Naples, Rafael was drinking in the beauty of the bay,
and of the lovely villages which lie along its border.

Mrs. Sprague stayed two or three weeks in Naples, although she said
that she did not like it at all. "The people are so shiftless," she
complained, picking up her skirts and walking round a group of girls
who were sitting on the sidewalk combing their hair. "It is the
dirtiest city in the world."

"Oh, Mother!" Edith exclaimed, "how can you say so? When we go out on
the bay in the evening and I look back at the city, it seems to me
most beautiful. It is like an amphitheatre, with its tiers of lights
rising one above another. Then she sang softly:--

"My soul to-day is far away,
Sailing the Vesuvian Bay!"

"Avanti!" exclaimed Rafael suddenly, and sho