the
day was the free-will offering of one of the people who had it displayed
at the side of his shop on a rude pedestal. It was called the 'Flight
into Egypt,' and represented Joseph and Mary and the infant on an ass,
and all composed of shrubs and flowers. It was, indeed, a most
ludicrous-looking affair; Joseph with a face (if such it might be called)
of purple flowers and a flaxen wig, dressed in a coarse pilgrim's cape
studded over with yellow flowers, was leading by a hay band a green
donkey, made of a kind of heath grass, with a tail of lavender and hoofs
of cabbage leaves. Of this latter composition were also the sandals of
Mary, whose face, as well as that of the _bambino_, was also of purple
flowers and shapeless. The frock of the infant was of the gaudiest red
poppy. It excited the laughter of almost all who saw it, except now and
then some of the ignorant lower classes would touch their hats, cross
themselves, and mumble a prayer."

After describing some of the picturesque costumes of the _contadini_, he
continues:--

"It was nearly dark before the procession, to which all these
preparations had reference, began to move. At length the band of music
was heard at the lower end of one of the streets, and a man, in ample
robes of scarlet and blue, with a staff, was seen leading the procession,
which need be no further described than to say it consisted of the usual
quantity of monks chanting, with wax-tapers in their hands, crosses, and
heavy, unwieldy banners which endanger the heads of the multitude as they
pass; of a fine band of music playing beautiful waltzes and other
compositions, and a _quantum suff._ of men dressed in the garb of
soldiers to keep the good people uncovered and on their knees.

"The head of the procession had arrived at the top of the street when--
crack! pop!--went forty or fifty crackers, which had been placed against
the walls of a house near us, and which added wonderfully to the
solemnity of the scene, and, accordingly, were repeated every few
seconds, forming a fine accompaniment to the waltzes and the chanting of
the monks. In a few minutes all the beauty of the flower-carpeted street
was trodden out, and the last of the procession had hardly passed before
all the flowers disappeared from the pillars, and all was ruin and
disorder.

"The procession halted at a temporary altar at the top of the street, and
we set out on our return at the same moment down the street, facing the
im