was going to do with it.

'Enter Rome with it, like Titus with the _spolia opima_,' replied Caper.

'Oh! I say, now,' said the former, who was an Englishman and an
historical painter; 'you aren't going to trot all over the fair with
that old crockery on your arm. Why, God bless me, they'll swear we are
drunk. There comes the Duchess of Brodneck; what the deuce will she
say?'

'Say?' said Caper, 'why, I'll go and ask her; this is not court-day.'

Without another word, with water-pitcher on arm, he walked toward the
Duchess. Saluting her with marked politeness, he said:

'A countryman of yours, madame, has objected to my carrying this _objet
de fantaisie_, assuring me that it would occasion remarks from the
Duchess of Brodneck. May I have the good fortune to know what she says
of it?'

'She says,' replied the lady, smiling and speaking slowly and quietly;
'that a young man who has independence enough to carry it, has
confidence enough to--fill it.' She bowed, and passed on, Caper politely
raising his hat, in acknowledgment of the well-rounded sentence. When he
returned to Bagswell, he found the historical painter with eyes the size
of grape-shot, at the sublime impudence of the man. He told him what
she had said.

'Upon my honor, you Americans have a face of brass; to address a duchess
you don't know, and ask her a question like that!'

'That's nothing,' said Caper, 'a little experience has taught me that
the higher you fly, in England, the nearer you approach true politeness
and courtesy. Believe me, I should never have asked that question of any
Englishwoman whose social position did not assure me she was
cosmopolitan.'

'Come,' said Bagswell, 'come, after such an adventure, if there is one
drop of any thing fit to drink in this town, we'll all go and get
lushy.'

They went. They found a door over which hung a green branch. Good wine
needs no bush, therefore Italian wine-shops hang it out; for the wine
there is not over good. But as luck was with our three artists, in the
shop over the door of which hung the green bough, they found that the
_padrone_ was an old acquaintance of Roejean; he had married and moved
to Grotto Ferrata. He had a barrel of Frascati wine, which was bright,
sparkling, sweet, and not watered. This the _padrone_ tapped in honor of
his guests, and at their urgent request, sat down and helped empty a
couple of bottles. Moreover, he told them that as the town was
overcrowded, they would fi