Garibaldi was in charge of our hill-top, the bareness of which we strove
to cover with wild flowers until we could make just the kind of garden
we wanted:

March 15.

DEAR SIR:

The last time I had the pleasure of see you in your place, Villa
Collina Ridente, you exclaimed with a melancholic voice, "Only
poppies and mignonette came out of the wild flower seeds." "So it
is," said I in the same tune of voice. Time proved we was both
wrong; many other flowers made their retarded appearance, so
deserving the name of wild flower garden....

Your place (pardon _me_ as I am not a violet) could look better,
also could look worse; consequently I consider myself entitled to be
placed between hell and paradise--to have things as one wishes is an
insolvable problem--that era has not come yet.

Many people come over to the Smiling hills, some think it is not
necessary to go any farther to collect flower to make a bouquet.
With forced gentle manner I reproached some of them, ordering to
observe the rule, "vedere e non toccare." It go in force while I am
present, not so in my absence. Those that made proverbs, their names
ought to be immortal. Here for one, "When the cat is gone, the rats
dance." How much true is in the Say. Every visitor like the place
profane or not profane in artistic matter.

A glorious rain came last night to the great content of the farmers