in the sun,
waiting for the foreign gentleman to come within reach. He might wait
a long time. Climbing has strengthened the muscles of his legs into so
much steel, and a party of herdsmen have been known to come down from
the Serra to the plains around Velletri, and to return to their
inaccessible mountains, after doing daring deeds of violence, in
twenty-four hours from the time of starting, covering at least from
eighty to ninety miles by the way. They are extraordinary fellows, as
active as tigers, and fabulously strong, though they are never very
big.

This country begins behind the range of Sabine mountains seen from
Rome across the Campagna, and the wild character of it increases as
you go towards the south-east.

Since I have told you this much I need not weary you with further
descriptions. I do not like descriptions, and it is only when Nino
gives me his impressions that I write them, in order that you may
know how beautiful things impress him, and the better judge of his
character.

I do not think that Gigi really cheated me so very badly about the
donkey. Of course I do not believe the story of his carrying the
brother-in-law and the heavy load uphill at a gallop; but I am thin
and not very heavy, and the little ass carried me well enough through
the valleys, and when we came to a steep place I would get off and
walk, so as not to tire him too much. If he liked to crop a thistle or
a blade of grass, I would stop a moment, for I thought he would grow
fatter in that way, and I should not lose so much when I sold him
again. But he never grew very fat.

Twice I slept by the way before I reached the end of my journey,--once
at Olevano and once at Trevi; for the road from Olevano to Trevi is
long, and some parts are very rough, especially at first. I could tell
you just how every stone on the road looks--Rojate, the narrow pass
beyond, and then the long valley with the vines; then the road turns
away and rises as you go along the plateau of Arcinazzo, which is
hollow beneath, and you can hear the echoes as you tread; then at the
end of that the desperate old inn, called by the shepherds the Madre
dei Briganti,--the mother of brigands,--smoke-blackened within and
without, standing alone on the desolate heath; farther on, a broad
bend of the valley to the left, and you see Trevi rising before you,
crowned with an ancient castle, and overlooking the stream that
becomes the Aniene afterwards; from Trevi through