ouchingly plaintive on the subject of her
wrongs. That she was a nuisance, I am fain to confess; but the treatment
she experienced at the hands of her Dalmatian countrymen was
inconsiderate in the extreme. One who professed himself an advocate for
sudden shocks, put his theory into practice by stealing quietly behind
his patient, and cutting short her lugubrious perorations with a deluge
of salt water. This was repeated several times, but no arguments would
induce her to allow her wet clothes to be removed, so it would not be
surprising if this gentleman had succeeded in 'stopping her tongue'
beyond his expectations. The only other lady was young and rather
pretty, but dismally sentimental. She doated on roses, was enamoured of
camelias, and loved the moon and the stars, and in fact everything in
this world or out of it. In vain I tried to persuade her that her cough
betrayed pulmonary symptoms, and that night air in the Adriatic was
injurious to the complexion.

The man-kind on board included an Austrian officer of engineers, a
French Consul, and a Dalmatian professor. Besides the above, there was
an Italian patriot, whose devotion to the 'Kingmaker' displayed itself
in a somewhat eccentric fashion. With much mystery, he showed me a
portrait of Garibaldi, secreted in a watchkey seal, while his waistcoat
buttons and shirt studs contained heads of those generals who served in
the campaign of the Two Sicilies. It was rather a novel kind of
hero-worship, though, I fear, likely to be little appreciated by him who
inspired the thought.

_September 1._--Landed at Zara at 6.30 A.M., and passed a few
hours in wandering over the town and ramparts. These last are by no
means formidable, and convey very little idea of the importance which
was attached to the city in the time of the Venetian Republic. The
garrison is small, and, as is the case throughout Dalmatia, the soldiers
are of Italian origin. The Duomo is worthy of a visit; while the
antiquarian may find many objects of interest indicative of the several
phases of Zarantine history. Here, in a partially obliterated
inscription, he may trace mementos of Imperial Rome; there, the
Campanile of Santa Maria tells of the dominion of Croatian kings; while
the winged lion ever reminds him of the glory of the Great Republic, its
triumphs, its losses, and its fall. On leaving we were loudly cheered by
the inhabitants, who had collected in large numbers on the shore. A few
hours' run