resente che due futuri_," said Riccabocca--"A bird in the
hand is worth two in the bush."

"_Chi non fa quondo puo, non puo fare quondo vuole_"--("He who will not
when he may, when he will it shall have nay")--answered Jackeymo, as
sententiously as his master. "And the Padrone should think in time that
he must lay by for the dower of the poor signorina"--(young lady.)

Riccabocca sighed, and made no reply.

"She must be _that_ high now!" said Jackeymo, putting his band on some
imaginary line a little above the balustrade. Riccabocca's eyes, raised
over the spectacles, followed the hand.

"If the Padrone could but see her here"--

"I thought I did!" muttered the Italian.

"He would never let her go from his side till she went to a husband's,"
continued Jackeymo.

"But this climate--she could never stand it," said Riccabocca, drawing
his cloak round him, as a north wind took him in the rear.

"The orange-trees blossom even here with care," said Jackeymo, turning
back to draw down an awning where the orange-trees faced the north.
"See!" he added, as he returned with a sprig in fall bud.

Dr. Riccabocca bent over the blossom, and then placed it in his bosom.

"The _other_ one should be there too." said Jackeymo.

"To die--as this does already!" answered Riccabocca. "Say no more."

Jackeymo shrugged his shoulders; and then, glancing at his master, threw
his hand over his eyes.

There was a pause. Jackeymo was the first to break it.

"But, whether here or there, beauty without money is the orange-tree
without shelter. If a lad could be got cheap, I would hire the land, and
trust for the crop to the Madonna."

"I think I know of such a lad," said Riccabocca, recovering himself, and
with his sardonic smile once more lurking about the corner of his
mouth--"a lad made for us!"

"Diavolo!"

"No, not the Diavolo! Friend, I have this day seen a boy who-refused
sixpence!"

"_Cosa stupenda_!"--(Stupendous thing!) exclaimed Jackeymo, opening his
eyes, and letting fall the watering-pot.

"It is true, my friend."

"Take him, Padrone, in Heaven's name, and the fields will grow gold."

"I will think of it, for it must require management to catch such a boy,"
said Riccabocca. "Meanwhile, light a candle in the parlor, and bring from
my bedroom--that great folio of Machiavelli."

* * * * *

RECENT DEATHS.

LOUIS PHILIPPE, EX-KING OF THE FRENCH.

The vicissitudes of kings form a