ng is pointed out to our incredulity; and we are at once
booked with the many who, having got up a suitable provision of
enthusiasm to be exploded on the spot, are obliged to carry it away with
them. A vile, _soapy washing-tank_ is Arethusa, occupied by half-naked,
noisy laundresses, thumping away with wooden bats at brown-looking
linen, or depositing the wet load that had been belaboured and rinsed on
the bank, gabbling, as they work, like the very _Adonizousoe_ of
Theocritus, (himself, as he informs us, a native of Syracuse.) A man lay
sleeping with his dog beside him; a number of mahogany-coloured
children, quite naked, were sprawling on the parapet-wall, covered with
flies, but fast asleep! A poor bird, a descendant of the [Greek: Adones
Sikelikai], a nightingale of the soil, _with his eyes put out, that he
might not know day from night, and so sing unconsciously, sang to us as
we passed_! But the affair was destined, in a single moment, to become
ludicrous as well as disappointing. Our guide, Jack Robertson, (so named
by an English man-of-war's crew that had, as he said, kidnapped him
during the war,) quite mistaking the _nature_ of our disappointment,
said, consolingly, "You come _dis_ way, sir; down here I show you _more
gals' feet, wash more clothes_;" on which intimation we certainly
followed him down a few steps, when, pushing back a wooden door, we
entered at once into a large roofed washing-house, along the floor of
which still ran the sadly humiliated Arethusa! We praised the beauty of
the young washerwomen, and departed--Jack Robertson having considerably
more to say on the subject than would interest the reader to know; and
which, in fact, we could not tell, without violating what was evidently
imparted in confidence.

JACK ROBERTSON AND THE PROFESSOR OF ELOQUENCE.

Under the guidance of the aforesaid Jack Robertson, we had visited two
rival collections of coins, the property of two priests, and certainly
the finest we had seen in Sicily. Those of _Syracuse_ in silver, of the
_first_ or largest module, (_medaglioni_ as they are technically
called,) are for size and finish deservedly reputed the most beautiful
of ancient coins; and of these we saw a full score in each collection.
We might indeed have purchased, as well as admired, but were deterred by
the price asked, which, for one perfect specimen, was from 45 to 50
crowns, (L7 or L8 sterling.) These coins are among the largest extant.
On one side, th