ed piles. In just such a boat
Columbus must have sailed when he was a boy. The rounded prow was
decorated with a flying goddess blowing a trumpet; on the masthead
there was perched a weathercock and a little figure of a hump-backed
man, like the one hidden away in St. Mark's. A great sail, painted
deep red, caught the sea-breeze and carried the boat slowly over the
shimmering, rose-colored water.

Edith drew a long breath of the salt air, and clasped her hands with
delight at the picture.

Some workmen, driving piles to mark the ship channel, were chanting an
old song,--one that has been sung for centuries by the pile-drivers of
Venice,--and Rafael translated the words for her, as the men raised
the heavy wooden hammer:--

"Up with it well,
Up to the top;
Up with it well,
Up to the summit!"

Each line of the Italian words ended with a long "e-e-e," or an
"o-o-o," and the American girl laughed at the strange song.

"It is just the time and place to paint a picture, or write a poem
about the Venetian sunset," she said.

"It is so different here from what I had imagined it to be," she
added. "I used to wonder what kept the sea from dashing against the
walls of the houses, and beating down the doors."

"Then you knew nothing about the lidi which hold back the sea?"
questioned the boy.

"No," replied the girl. "People who have been here speak only about
the Grand Canal, and the Piazza of St. Mark, and the Bridge of Sighs."

She pointed out to her mother the long wharf which stretched along the
opposite bank of the lagoon, and their hotel, which was farther up the
canal. "There is plenty of space on the pavement near our hotel to
spread a sail," she said, "and I thought there was never a spot to set
foot in all the city, except in the squares."

The sight of the hotel reminded Mrs. Sprague of home. "We must go back
and see if there are any letters," she said suddenly, and turned to go
down the spiral staircase.

CHAPTER VII

A CHAT ABOUT VERONA

As they took their places in the boat, Edith said to Rafael, "Tell us
some of your Venetian legends. Is there not one about this lagoon?"

"There are many," he answered, and he told her the story of the three
saints--St. Mark, St. George, and St. Theodore--who crossed the lagoon
one night, centuries ago, and drove back the evil spirits who would
have destroyed the city.

"Our boatmen can tell you of many other strange things which have
hap