y in an
attack on Constantinople at the age of ninety-seven, when most old men
are bedrid with a soap-stun and water gruel. And Francesco Foscari,
who worked nobly for thirty-five years and wuz then abused shameful by
the Ten and turned out of office.

Them old Doges had their ups and downs; riz up to power, throwed down
agin. Mean as the Old Harry, some on 'em, and some workin' well for
the public. And some after servin' the public for years wuz banished,
some beheaded, some had their eyes put out, one died of vexation, one
who wuz deposed died when the bell rung in his successor. A few died
in battle, but only a few on 'em passed away in their beds after a
lingerin' and honorable sickness with their one wife and children
weepin' about 'em.

You can see the open place in the wall where the written complaints
wuz put aginst somebody or anybody, guilty or innocent, and wuz pretty
sure to be acted upon by the dretful Ten settin' there in their black
robes and black masks, fit color for their dark and cruel deeds.

We went down to see the dungeons, dark, cramped, filthy holes in the
solid wall: only a little light sifted in from the corridor through a
narrow slit. It seemed as if them places wuz so awful we couldn't bear
to look at 'em. But we went down into still deeper dungeons way below
the canal, dretful places where you can't hardly draw a breath. We see
dim traces of writings on the walls some wretched prisoner waitin' for
death had writ there. How did he feel when he writ it? I didn't want
to know, nor have Josiah know.

We didn't make a very long stay in Venice, but journeyed on to
Florence--Florence the beautiful. It lays in a quiet, sheltered valley
with the Apennine Mountains risin' about it as if to keep off danger.
The river Arno runs through it, spanned by handsome bridges. The old
wall that used to surround it with its eight gates, has been destroyed
some years ago.

As I say, it is a beautiful city, although it wuz more grand and
populous when it wuz the capital of Italy. Dorothy said it was well
named the City of Flowers, for there wuz flowers everywhere, the
markets full of 'em, flower girls at every turn, balconies and windows
overrunning with them, public gardens and private gardens sweet with
their brightness and perfume.

CHAPTER XXIX

The next morning after we arrived at Florence we sallied out
sightseeing. We all went out together, but separated after a while,
promising to meet at