imate must have changed since the time when the Romans
went about in togas and sandals and lay on slabs of marble after their
bath!

We are delighted to have our dear friend M. de Schloezer here. He is
Minister to the Vatican, and is (or ought to be) as black as ink, while
we Quirinalers are as white as the driven snow; but he has no prejudice
as to color, nor have we, so we see one another very often and dine
together whenever we can. As soon as his silver was unpacked we were
invited straightway to dinner. His rooms in the Palazzo Capranica
(belonging to the family of Madame Ristori's husband) are as bare as
those he occupied in Washington--barer, even, for here there are no
_portieres_. In the _salon_ he had his beloved Steinway grand, one
stiff sofa, four enormous _fauteuils_, destined for his cardinals, a
few small gilt _chaises volantes_ (as he calls little chairs that are
easy to move about), one table on which reposes the last piece of
marble picked up while strolling in the Forum, and, as a supreme
banality, his niece's Christmas present, a _lamp-mat_, on which stands
the lamp in solitary glory.

Schloezer's dinners are of the best, and are most amusing. He
superintends everything himself and gives himself no end of trouble.
Each course as it is served receives an introductory speech: "_Ce pate,
mon cher, est la gloire de ma cuisiniere_" etc.

He says that all _volaille_ ought to be carved at the table, therefore
he carves the birds and the chickens himself, brandishing the knife
with gusto while sharpening it.

And as for the wines! Dear me! After filling his glass he holds it
against the light, tastes the wine, smacks his lips, and says: "_Ce vin
de Bordeaux est du '64. Il faut le boire avec recueillement. Je l'ai
debouche moi-meme_."

He has a great liking for Lenbach (the famous painter), although they
are utterly different in character and ways. Lenbach is not musical,
and is rather rough and gruff in his manners. Even his best friends
acknowledge that he does not possess the thing called manners. He is
clever and witty in his way, but his way is sarcastic and peevish.
Sometimes when he is talking to you he beams and scowls alternately
behind his spectacles. You think that he is listening to you, but not
at all! He is only thinking out his own thoughts, in which he seems
always to be wrapped.

Lenbach occupies the same apartment in the Palazzo Borghese that
Pauline Bonaparte lived in. Probably the