jeweller may not discover his loss before we have time to restore the
spoil! He is apparently so free and careless in displaying his precious
wares,--putting inestimable genes and brooches great and small into the
hands of strangers like ourselves, and leaving scores of them strewn on
the top of his counter,--that it would seem easy enough to take a diamond
or two; but I suspect there must needs be a sharp eye somewhere. Before
we left the shop he requested me to honor him with my autograph in a
large book that was full of the names of his visitors. This is probably
a measure of precaution.


April 30th.--I went yesterday to the sculpture-gallery of the Capitol,
and looked pretty thoroughly through the busts of the illustrious men,
and less particularly at those of the emperors and their relatives. I
likewise took particular note of the Faun of Praxiteles, because the idea
keeps recurring to me of writing a little romance about it, and for that
reason I shall endeavor to set down a somewhat minutely itemized detail
of the statue and its surroundings. . . . .

We have had beautiful weather for two or three days, very warm in the
sun, yet always freshened by the gentle life of a breeze, and quite cool
enough the moment you pass within the limit of the shade. . . . .

In the morning there are few people there (on the Pincian) except the
gardeners, lazily trimming the borders, or filling their watering-pots
out of the marble-brimmed basin of the fountain; French soldiers, in
their long mixed-blue surtouts, and wide scarlet pantaloons, chatting
with here and there a nursery-maid and playing with the child in her
care; and perhaps a few smokers, . . . . choosing each a marble seat or
wooden bench in sunshine or shade as best suits him. In the afternoon,