est was created that brings
me here to-day."

The commercial traveller bowed with much gratification. In the meantime
he had presented a card to momma, which informed her that Ricardo
Bellini represented the firm of Isapetti and Co., Milan, Artificial
Flowers and Lace.

"Thirty years, that is a long time to remember Bologna, I cannot say
that thirty years I remember New York. You will not believe!" He was
obviously not more than twenty-five, so this was vastly humorous.
"Twenty years, yes, twenty years I will say! And have you seen San
Stefano? Seven churches in one! Also the most old. And having forty
Jerusalem martyrs."

"Forty would go a long way in relics," the Senator observed with
discouragement, "but my remarks had reference to the Bologna sausage,
sir."

"Sausage--ah! _mortadella_--yes they make here I believe." Mr. Bellini
held up his knife and fork to enable his plate to be changed and looked
darkly at the succeeding course. "But every Italian cannot like that
dish. I eat him never. You will not find in this hotel no." His manner
indicated a personal hostility to the Bologna sausage, but the Senator
did not seem to notice it.

"You don't say so! Local consumption going off too, eh? Now how do you
explain that?"

Mr. Bellini shrugged his shoulders. "It is much eat by the poor people.
They will always have that _mortadella_!"

"That looks," said the Senator thoughtfully, "like the production of an
inferior article. But not necessarily, not necessarily, of course."

"Bologna it is very _ecclesiastic_." Mr. Bellini addressed my other
parent, recovering a smile. "We have produced here six popes. It is the
fame of Bologna."

"You seem to think a great deal of producing popes in Italy," momma
replied coldly. "I should consider it a terrible responsibility."

"Now do you suppose," said poppa confidentially, "that the idea of
trichinosis had anything to do with slackening the demand?"

Mr. Bellini threw his head back, and passionately replaced a section of
biscuit and cheese in the middle of his plate.

"I know nossing, any more than you! Why you speak me always that Bologna
sausage! _Pazienza!_ What is it that sausage to make the agreeable
conversation!"

"Sir," exclaimed the Senator with astonishment and equal heat, "you
don't seem to be aware of it, but at one time the Bologna sausage ruled
the world!"

Mr. Bellini, however, could evidently not trust himself to discuss the
matter further. He rose