y for the development of the trade in salt codfish (large
quantities of which are, of course, consumed in Catholic Europe),
I could put you into communication with my respected friends,
Messrs. Abel Woodward and Co., exporters of preserved provisions,
St John, Newfoundland. But, perhaps in this suggestion I am not
sufficiently high-toned.--Respectfully, CYRUS W. HITCHCOCK.

The moment had arrived for Elsie to be firm. 'I have no prejudice
against trade, Brownie,' she observed emphatically; 'but I do draw the
line at salt fish.'

'So do I, dear,' I answered.

She sighed her relief. I really believe she half expected to find me
trotting about Florence with miscellaneous samples of Messrs. Abel
Woodward's esteemed productions protruding from my pocket.

So to Florence we went. My first idea was to travel by the Brenner route
through the Tyrol; but a queer little episode which met us at the outset
on the Austrian frontier put a check to this plan. We cycled to the
border, sending our trunks on by rail. When we went to claim them at the
Austrian Custom-house, we were told they were detained 'for political
reasons.'

'Political reasons?' I exclaimed, nonplussed.

'Even so, Fraeulein. Your boxes contain revolutionary literature.'

'Some mistake!' I cried, warmly. I am but a drawing-room Socialist.

'Not at all; look here.' And he drew a small book out of Elsie's
portmanteau.

What? Elsie a conspirator? Elsie in league with Nihilists? So mild and
so meek! I could never have believed it. I took the book in my hands and
read the title, 'Revolution of the Heavenly Bodies.'

'But this is astronomy,' I burst out. 'Don't you see? Sun-and-star
circling. The revolution of the planets.'

'It matters not, Fraeulein. Our instructions are strict. We have orders
to intercept _all_ revolutionary literature without distinction.'

'Come, Elsie,' I said, firmly, 'this is _too_ ridiculous. Let us give
them a clear berth, these Kaiserly-Kingly blockheads!' So we registered
our luggage right back to Lucerne, and cycled over the Gotthard.

[Illustration: PAINTING THE SIGN-BOARD.]

When at last, by leisurely stages, we arrived at Florence, I felt there
was no use in doing things by halves. If you are going to start the
Florentine School of Stenography and Typewriting, you may as well start
it on a proper basis. So I took sunny rooms at a nice hotel for myself
and Elsie, and hired a ground floor in a convenien