o be, they make their horses work for them, as in a walk
of a few hours yesterday after noon, we saw two horses drawing heavy
loads, drop down apparently dead, and several others seemed nearly ready
to do the same.

We spent the night at the little village of Casina, about sixteen miles
from Milan, and here made our first experience in the honesty of Italian
inns. We had taken the precaution to inquire beforehand the price of a
bed; but it seemed unnecessary and unpleasant, as well as evincing a
mistrustful spirit, to do the same with every article we asked for, so
we concluded to leave it to the host's conscience not to overcharge us.
Imagine our astonishment, however, when at starting, a bill was
presented to us, in which the smallest articles were set down at three
or four times their value. We remonstrated, hut to little purpose; the
fellow knew scarcely any French, and we as little Italian, so rather
than lose time or temper, we paid what he demanded and went on, leaving
him to laugh at the successful imposition. The experience was of value
to us, however, and it may serve as a warning to some future traveler.

About noon, the road turned into a broad and beautiful avenue of
poplars, down which we saw, at a distance, the triumphal arch
terminating the Simplon road, which we had followed from Sesto Calende.
Beyond it rose the slight and airy pinnacle of the Duomo. We passed by
the exquisite structure, gave up our passports at the gates, traversed
the broad Piazza d'Armi, and found ourselves at liberty to choose one of
the dozen streets that led into the heart of the city.

CHAPTER XXXI.

MILAN.

_Aug. 21._--While finding our way at random to the "Pension Suisse,"
whither we had been directed by a German gentleman, we were agreeably
impressed with the gaiety and bustle of Milan. The shops and stores are
all open to the street, so that the city resembles a great bazaar. It
has an odd look to see blacksmiths, tailors and shoemakers working
unconcernedly in the open air, with crowds continually passing before
them. The streets are filled with venders of fruit, who call out the
names with a long, distressing cry, like that of a person in great
agony. Organ-grinders parade constantly about and snatches of songs are
heard among the gay crowd, on every side.

In this lively, noisy Italian city, nearly all there is to see may be
comprised in four things: the Duomo, the triumphal arch over the
Simplon, La Scala