present or other,—either fine grapes or preserved golden pippins, which were his greatest luxury. I was then obliged to kiss his hand and call him uncle; then he smiled so strangely, and gave me a half-bajocco, always adding the exhortation that I should keep it to look at, not spend it in cakes, for when these were eaten I had nothing left, but that if I kept my coin I should always have something.

His dwelling was dark and dirty: in one little room there was no window at all, and in the other it was almost up to the ceiling with broken and patched-up panes. Of furniture there was not one article, except a great wide chest, which served him for a bed, and two tubs, in which he kept his clothes. I always cried when I had to go there; and true it is, however much my mother persuaded me to be very affectionate towards him, yet she always made use of him as a bugbear when she would punish me; she said then that she would send me to my dirty uncle, that I should sit and sing beside him upon the stairs, and thus do something useful and earn a bajocco. But I knew that she never meant so ill by I was the apple of her eye.

me;

On the house of our opposite neighbor there was an image of the Virgin, before which a lamp was always burning. Every evening when the bell rang the Ave Maria, I and the neighbors' children knelt before it, and sang in honor of the mother of God, and the pretty child Jesus, which they had adorned with ribbons, beads, and silver hearts. By the wavering lamp-light it often seemed to me as if both mother and child moved and smiled upon us. I sang with a high, clear voice; and people said that I sang beautifully. Once there stood an English family and listened to us; and, when we rose up from our knees, the gentleman gave me a silver piece; “it was," my mother said, "because of my fine voice." But how much distraction did this afterwards cause me! I thought no longer alone on the Madonna when I sung before her image; no! I thought, did any one listen to my beautiful singing; but always when I thought so there succeeded a burning remorse; I was afraid that she would be angry with me; and I prayed right innocently that she would look down upon me, poor child!

The evening-song was, in the mean time, the only point of union between me and the other neighbors' children. I lived quietly, entirely in my own self-created dream-world; I lay for hours upon my back, with my face to the open window, looking out into the wonderful, gloriously blue, Italian heaven, into the play of colors at the going down of the sun, when the clouds hung with their violet-hued edges upon a golden ground. Often I wished that I could fly far beyond the Quirinal and the houses, to the great pine-trees, which stood like black shadow-figures against the fire-red horizon. I had quite another scene on the other side of our room: there lay our own and our neighbors' yards, each a small, narrow space, inclosed by tall houses, and almost shut in from above by the great wooden balconies. In the middle of each yard there was a well inclosed with masonry, and the space between this and the walls of the houses was not greater than to admit of one person moving round. Thus, from above I looked properly only into two deep wells; they were entirely overgrown with that fine plant which we call Venus'-hair, and which, hanging down, lost itself in the dark depth. It was to me as if I could see deep down into the earth, where my fancy then created for herself the strangest pictures. In the mean time, my mother adorned that window with a great rod, to show me what fruit grew for me there, that I might not fall down and get drowned.

But I will now mention an occurrence which might easily have put an end to my life's history before it had come into any entanglement.

Οι

UR lodger, the young painter, took me with him sometimes on his little rambles beyond the gates. I did not disturb him whilst he was making now and then a sketch; and when he had finished he amused himself with my prattle, for he now understood the language.

Once before, I had been with him to the curia hostilia, deep down into the dark caves where, in ancient days, wild beasts were kept for the games, and where innocent captives were thrown to ferocious hyenas and lions. The dark passages; the monk who conducted us in, and continually struck the red torch against the walls; the deep cistern in which the water stood as clear as a mirror,—yes, so clear, that one was obliged to move it with the torch to convince one's self that it was up to the brim, and that there was no empty space, as by its clearness there seemed to be, all this excited my imagination. Fear, I felt none, for I was unconscious of danger.

"Are we going to the caverns?" I inquired from him, as I saw at the end of the street the higher part of the Coli

seum.

"No, to something much greater," replied he; "where thou shalt see something! And I will paint thee, also, my fine fellow!"

Thus wandered we further, and ever further, between the white walls, the inclosed vineyards, and the old ruins of the baths, till we were out of Rome. The sun burned hotly, and the peasants had made for their wagons roofs of green branches, under which they slept, while the horses, left to themselves, went at a foot's pace, and ate from the bundle of

hay which hung beside them for this purpose. At length we reached the grotto of Egeria, in which we took our breakfast, and mixed our wine with the fresh water that streamed out from between the blocks of stone. The walls and vault of

the whole grotto were inside covered over with the finest green, as of tapestry, woven of silks and velvet, and round about the great entrance hung the thickest ivy, fresh and luxuriant as the vine foliage in the valleys of Calabria.

Not many paces from the grotto stands, or rather stood, for there are now only a few remains of it left, a little, and wholly desolate house, built above one of the descents to the catacombs. These were, as is well known, in ancient times, connecting links between Rome and the surrounding cities; in later times, however, they have in part fallen in, and in part been built up, because they served as concealment for robbers and smugglers. The entrance through the burial-vaults in St. Sebastian's Church, and this one through the desolate house, were then the only two in existence; and I almost think that we were the last who descended by this, for, shortly after our adventure, it also was shut up; and only the one through the church, under the conduct of a monk, remains now open to strangers.

Deep below, hollowed out of the soft puzzolan earth, the one passage crosses another. Their multitude, their similarity one to another, are sufficient to bewilder even him who knows the principal direction. I had formed no idea of the whole, and the painter felt so confident, that he had no hesitation in taking me, the little boy, down with him. He lighted his candle, and took another with him in his pocket, fastened a ball of twine to the opening where we descended, and our wandering commenced. Anon the passages were so low that I could not go upright; anon they elevated themselves to lofty vaults, and, where the one crossed the other, expanded themselves into great quadrangles. We passed through the Rotunda with the small stone altar in the middle, where the early Christians, persecuted by the Pagans, secretly performed their worship. Federigo told me of the fourteen popes, and the many thousand martyrs, who here lie buried: we held the light against the great cracks in the tombs, and saw the yellow bones

The

within.1 We advanced yet some steps onward, and then came to a stand, because we were at the end of the twine. end of this Federigo fastened to his button-hole, stuck the candle among some stones, and then began to sketch the deep passage. I sat close beside him upon one of the stones; he had desired me to fold my hands and to look upwards. The light was nearly burnt out, but a whole one lay hard by; besides which he had brought a tinder-box, by the aid of which he could light the other in case this suddenly went out.

My imagination fashioned to itself a thousand wonderful objects in the infinite passages which opened themselves, and revealed to us an impenetrable darkness. All was quite still, the falling waterdrops alone sent forth a monotonous sound. As I thus sat, wrapped in my own thoughts, I was suddenly terrified by my friend the painter, who heaved a strange sigh, and sprang about, but always in the same spot. Every moment he stooped down to the ground, as if he would snatch up something, then he lighted the larger candle and sought about. I became so terrified at his singular behavior, that I got up and began to cry.

"For God's sake, sit still, child!" said he; "for God in heaven's sake!" and again he began staring on the ground. "I will go up again!" I exclaimed; "I will not stop down here!" I then took him by the hand and strove to draw him with me.

"Child! child! thou art a noble fellow!" said he; "I will give thee pictures and cakes there, thou hast money!" And he took his purse out of his pocket, and gave me all that was in it: but I felt that his hand was ice cold and that he trembled. On this I grew more uneasy, and called my mother: but now he seized me firmly by the shoulder, and, shaking me violently, said, "I will beat thee if thou art not quiet!" Then he bound his pocket-handkerchief round my

1 The monumental stones here are without any ornament; on the contrary, one finds in the catacombs at Naples the images of saints and inscriptions, but all very indifferently done. On the graves of the Christians a fish is figured, in the Greek name of which occur the initial letters of (Ιησους Χριστος, Θεου υἱος σωτηρ) Jesus Christ, the Son of God, the Redeemer. Author's Note.