owded panels.
Inside, a square gallery forms a promenade opening into the court
through arcades trellised with ogive windows. It is filled with funereal
monuments, busts, inscriptions and statues of every form and of every
age. Nothing could be simpler and nobler. A framework of dark wood
supports the arch overhead, and the crest of the roof cuts sharp against
the crystal sky. At the angles are four rustling cypress trees,
tranquilly swayed by the breeze. Grass is growing in the court with a
wild freshness and luxuriance. Here and there a climbing flower twined
around a column, a small rosebush, or a shrub glows beneath a gleam of
sunshine. There is no noise; this quarter is deserted; only now and then
is heard the voice of some promenader which reverberates as under the
vault of a church. It is the veritable cemetery of a free and Christian
city; here, before the tombs of the great, people might well reflect
over death and public affairs.

THE WALLS AND "SKYSCRAPERS" OF PISA[5]

BY JANET ROSS AND NELLY ERICHSON

Few cities have preserved their medieval walls with such loving care as
Pisa. The circuit is complete save where the traveler enters the city;
and there, alas, a wide breach has been made by the restless spirit of
modernity. But once past the paltry barrier and the banal square, with
its inevitable statue of Victor Emanuel, that take the place of the old
Porta Romana, one quickly perceives that the city is a walled one.
Glimpses of battlements close the vistas of the streets, and green
fields peep through the open gates, marking that abrupt transition
between town and country peculiar to a fortified city.

The walls are best seen from without. An admirable impression of them
can be had on leaving the city by the Porta Lucchese. Turning to the
left, after passing a crucifix overshadowed by cypresses, we come to the
edge of a stretch of level marshy meadows, gaily pied in spring with
orchids and grape hyacinths. Above our heads the high air vibrates with
the song of larks. Before us is the long line of the city walls. Strong,
grim and gray, they look with nothing to break the outline of square
battlements against the sky, but that majestic groups of domes and
towers for whose defense they were built. At the angle of the wall to
the right is a square watch-tower, backed by groups of cypresses that
rise into the air like dark flames. Its little windows command the flat
plain as far as the horizon. How e