shedding their light on the white cloth and white walls, made
the old place cheerful. The white and red wine in the thin glass flasks
gleamed brightly, and the food was well cooked and wholesome. Here in
early winter came the sellers of 'sweet olives,' as they called them,
and for two or three cents (_baiocchi_) you could buy a plateful. These
olives were green, and, having been soaked in lime-water, the bitter
taste was taken from them, and they had the flavor of almonds.

But the maccaroni was the great dish in the Gabioni; a four-cent plate
of it would take the sharp edge from a fierce appetite, assisted as it
was by a large one-cent roll of bread. There was the white pipe-stem and
the dark ribbon (_fettucia_) species; and it was cooked with sauce (_al
sugo_), with cheese, Neapolitan, Roman and Milan fashion,
and--otherways. Wild boar steaks came in winter, and were cheap. Veal
never being sold in Rome until the calf is a two-year-old heifer, was no
longer veal, but tender beef, and was eatable. Sardines fried in oil and
batter were good. Game was plenty, and very reasonable in price, except
venison, which was scarce. The average cost of a substantial dinner was
from thirty to forty baiocchi, and said Rocjean, 'I can live like a
prince--like the Prince B----, who dines here occasionally--for half
that sum.'

The first day Caper dined in the Gabioni, what with a dog-fight under
the table, cats jumping upon the table, a distressed marchioness (fact)
begging him for a small sum, a beautiful girl from the Trastevere,
shining like a patent-leather boot, with gold ear-rings, and brooch, and
necklace, and coral beads, who sat at another table with a French
soldier--these and those other little _piquante_ things, that the
traveler learns to smile at and endure, worried him. But the dinner was
good, his companions at table were companionable, and as he finished an
extra _foglietta_ (pint) of wine, price eight cents, with Rocjean, he
concluded to give it another trial. He kept at giving it trials until
the old Gabioni was closed, and from it arose the Four Nations or
Quattre Nazione in Turkey Cock Alley (_viccolo Gallmaccio_), which, as
any one knows, is near Two Murderers' Street. (_Via Due Macelli_)

'Now that we have finished dinner,' spoke Rocjean, 'we will smoke: then
to the Caffe or Cafe Greco and have our cup of black coffee.'

AMERICA IN ROME.

It may be a good thing to have the conceit taken out of us--but not