fine afternoon. A plate let into the front of
the house tells where she lived in body. But in sperit she inhabited
the hull world, and duz now. Her home is in the hearts of all who love
pure and exalted poetry.

Here she lived her happy life as the wife of Robert Browning and
mother of her boy. Here she passed on up to the higher school, for
which she had prepared her sweet soul below, graduated in the earth
school and promoted up to the higher one above.

I had a sight of emotions here and Robert and Dorothy quoted from her
all the way back to our tarven, and so I did. I thought more of such
poems as "Mother and Poet," and "The Sleep," etc. But they quoted a
sight from "Geraldine's Courtship" and "Portuguese Songs," for so
every heart selects its own nutriment. Their young hearts translated
it into glowing language I mistrusted, though I didn't say nothin'.

From Florence we went to Rome. I had read a sight about Rome and how
she sot on her seven hills and from her throne of glory ruled the
world. But them hills are lowered down a good deal by the hand of
Time, just as Rome's glory is; she don't rule the world now, fur from
it.

There is in reality ten hills, but the ruins of old Rome--the Rome of
Julius Caesar--has filled in the hollers a good deal and the new city
has grown old agin, as cities must, and I, and Josiah, and everybody
and everything.

Robert Strong had writ ahead and got us some comfortable rooms in a
tarven on the Corso. When Robert Strong first spoke on't Josiah looked
agitated. He thought it wuz a buryin' ground. But it didn't have
anything to do with a corse.

The Corso is one of the finest streets in Rome, and handsome shops are
on each side on't, and carriages and folks in fine array and them not
so fine are seen there. Most all of the big crowd wuz dressed as they
do in Jonesville and Paris and London, though occasionally we met
Italians in picturesque costooms.

There are three hundred and eighty Catholic meetin'-houses in Rome,
quite a few on 'em dedicated to the Virgin Mary, and lots of costly
gifts are laid on her altar. But the one I wanted to see and so did
the rest of our party wuz the one that stood on the spot where once
the circus of Nero stood, weak, mizable creeter. The most agreeable
actin' to him and his cruel pardner wuz the death struggles of martyrs
and bloodshed and agony.

What a inspiring idee it is to think that right on that very spot,
that bloody pagan pleasure h