trusting simplicity.

Leaving the church, we wandered to the Coliseum, and to the public
grounds contiguous to them, where a score and more of French drummers
were beating each man his drum, without reference to any rub-a-dub but
his own. This seems to be a daily or periodical practice and point of
duty with them. After resting ourselves on one of the marble benches, we
came slowly home, through the Basilica of Constantine, and along the
shady sides of the streets and piazzas, sometimes, perforce, striking
boldly through the white sunshine, which, however, was not so hot as to
shrivel us up bodily. It has been a most beautiful and perfect day as
regards weather, clear and bright, very warm in the sunshine, yet
freshened throughout by a quiet stir in the air. Still there is
something in this air malevolent, or, at least, not friendly. The Romans
lie down and fall asleep in it, in any vacant part of the streets, and
wherever they can find any spot sufficiently clean, and among the ruins
of temples. I would not sleep in the open air for whatever my life may
be worth.

On our way home, sitting in one of the narrow streets, we saw an old
woman spinning with a distaff; a far more ancient implement than the
spinning-wheel, which the housewives of other nations have long since
laid aside.


April 18th.--Yesterday, at noon, the whole family of us set out on a
visit to the Villa Borghese and its grounds, the entrance to which is
just outside of the Porta del Popolo. After getting within the grounds,
however, there is a long walk before reaching the casino, and we found
the sun rather uncomfortably hot, and the road dusty and white in the