es a difference. The very expression of the face changes when
one has passed from shabbiness into elegance. After Buttons had
dressed himself in his gay attire his next thought was what to do with
his old clothes.

"Come and let us dispose of them."

"Dispose of them!"

"Oh, I mean get rid of them. I saw a man crouching in a corner nearly
naked as I came up. Let us go and see if we can find him. I'd like to
try the effect."

They went to the place where the man had been seen. He was there
still. A young man, in excellent health, brown, muscular, lithe.
He had an old coverlet around his loins--that was all. He looked up
sulkily.

"Are you not cold?"

"No," he blurted out, and turned away.

"A boor," said Dick. "Don't throw away your charity on him."

"Look here."

The man looked up lazily.

"Do you want some clothes?"

No reply.

"I've got some here, and perhaps will give them to you."

The man scrambled to his feet.

"Confound the fellow!" said Dick. "If he don't want them let's find
some one who does."

"Look here," said Buttons.

He unfolded his parcel. The fellow looked indifferently at the things.

"Here, take this," and he offered the pantaloons.

The Italian took them and slowly put them on. This done, he stretched
himself and yawned.

"Take this."

It was his vest.

The man took the vest and put it on with equal _sang froid_. Again
he yawned and stretched himself.

"Here's a coat."

Buttons held it out to the Italian. The fellow took it, surveyed it
closely, felt in the pockets, and examined very critically the
stiffening of the collar. Finally he put it on. He buttoned it
closely around him, and passed his fingers through his matted hair.
Then he felt the pockets once more. After which he yawned long and
solemnly. This done, he looked earnestly at Buttons and Dick. He saw
that they had nothing more. Upon which he turned on his heel, and
without saying a word, good or bad, walked off with immense strides,
turned a corner, and was out of sight. The two philanthropists were
left staring at one another. At last they laughed.

"That man is an original," said Dick.

"Yes, and there is another," said Buttons.

As he spoke he pointed to the flight of stone steps that goes up from
the Piazza di Spagna. Dick looked up. There sat The Beggar!

ANTONIO!

Legless, hatless, but not by any means penniless, king of Roman
beggars, with a European reputation, unequalled, in his own
profess