and was quite satisfied, they wore them as horses do--to keep the
flies off.

Soon afterwards, there was another festa-day, in honour of St.
Nazaro. One of the Albaro young men brought two large bouquets
soon after breakfast, and coming up-stairs into the great sala,
presented them himself. This was a polite way of begging for a
contribution towards the expenses of some music in the Saint's
honour, so we gave him whatever it may have been, and his messenger
departed: well satisfied. At six o'clock in the evening we went
to the church--close at hand--a very gaudy place, hung all over
with festoons and bright draperies, and filled, from the altar to
the main door, with women, all seated. They wear no bonnets here,
simply a long white veil--the 'mezzero;' and it was the most gauzy,
ethereal-looking audience I ever saw. The young women are not
generally pretty, but they walk remarkably well, and in their
personal carriage and the management of their veils, display much
innate grace and elegance. There were some men present: not very
many: and a few of these were kneeling about the aisles, while
everybody else tumbled over them. Innumerable tapers were burning
in the church; the bits of silver and tin about the saints
(especially in the Virgin's necklace) sparkled brilliantly; the
priests were seated about the chief altar; the organ played away,
lustily, and a full band did the like; while a conductor, in a
little gallery opposite to the band, hammered away on the desk
before him, with a scroll; and a tenor, without any voice, sang.
The band played one way, the organ played another, the singer went
a third, and the unfortunate conductor banged and banged, and
flourished his scroll on some principle of his own: apparently
well satisfied with the whole performance. I never did hear such a