thronged with people, the countryfolk having come in
for miles around. The church of the patron saint was the great center
of attraction. The blank walls of the little square in front, and of the
narrow streets near, were hung with cheap and highly-colored lithographs
of sacred subjects, for sale; tables and booths were set up in every
available space for the traffic in pre-Raphaelite gingerbread, molasses
candy, strings of dried nuts, pinecone and pumpkin seeds, scarfs, boots
and shoes, and all sorts of trumpery. One dealer had preempted a large
space on the pavement, where he had spread out an assortment of bits
of old iron, nails, pieces of steel traps, and various fragments which
might be useful to the peasants. The press was so great, that it was
difficult to get through it; but the crowd was a picturesque one, and in
the highest good humor. The occasion was a sort of Fourth of July, but
without its worry and powder and flowing bars.

The spectacle of the day was the procession bearing the silver image
of the saint through the streets. I think there could never be anything
finer or more impressive; at least, I like these little fussy provincial
displays,--these tag-rags and ends of grandeur, in which all the
populace devoutly believe, and at which they are lost in wonder,--better
than those imposing ceremonies at the capital, in which nobody believes.
There was first a band of musicians, walking in more or less disorder,
but blowing away with great zeal, so that they could be heard amid the
clangor of bells the peals of which reverberate so deafeningly between
the high houses of these narrow streets. Then follow boys in white,
and citizens in black and white robes, carrying huge silken banners,
triangular like sea-pennants, and splendid silver crucifixes which flash
in the sun. Then come ecclesiastics, walking with stately step, and
chanting in loud and pleasant unison. These are followed by nobles,
among whom I recognize, with a certain satisfaction, two descendants of
Tasso, whose glowing and bigoted soul may rejoice in the devotion of his
posterity, who help to bear today the gilded platform upon which is the
solid silver image of the saint. The good old bishop walks humbly in
the rear, in full canonical rig, with crosier and miter, his rich robes
upborne by priestly attendants, his splendid footman at a respectful
distance, and his roomy carriage not far behind.

The procession is well spread out and long; all