e to buy silk stockings
and inlaid wood-work. They come assorted, I suppose."

Beth and Patsy jumped up with alacrity, but Louise pleaded that she had
several more letters to write; so the others left her and passed the
rest of the forenoon in rummaging among the quaint shops of Sorrento,
staring at the statue of Tasso, and enjoying the street scenes so
vividly opposed to those of America. It was almost their first glimpse
of foreign manners and customs. In Naples they had as yet seen nothing
but darkness and falling ashes.

CHAPTER X

THE ROAD TO AMALFI

The Hotel Victoria faces the bay of Naples. Back of it are the famous
gardens, and as you emerge from these you find yourself upon the narrow
main street of Sorrento, not far from the Square of Tasso.

As our little party entered this street they were immediately espied by
the vetturini, or cabmen, who rushed toward them with loud cries while
they waved their whips frantically to attract attention. One tall fellow
was dressed in a most imposing uniform of blue and gold, with a high hat
bearing a cockade _a la Inglese_ and shiny top boots. His long legs
enabled him to outstrip the others, and in an almost breathless voice he
begged Uncle John to choose his carriage: "the besta carrozza ina town!"

"We don't want to ride," was the answer.

The cabman implored. Certainly they must make the Amalfi drive, or to
Massa Lubrense or Saint' Agata or at least Il Deserto! The others stood
by to listen silently to the discussion, yielding first place to the
victor in the race.

Uncle John was obdurate.

"All we want to-day is to see the town," he declared, "We're not going
to ride, but walk."

"Ah, but the Amalfi road, signore! Surely you will see that."

"To-morrow, perhaps; not now."

"To-morrow, signore! It is good. At what hour, to-morrow,
illustrissimo?"

"Oh, don't bother me."

"We may as well drive to Amalfi to-morrow," suggested Beth. "It is the
proper thing to do, Uncle."

"All right; we'll go, then."

"You take my carrozza, signore?" begged the cabman. "It is besta ina
town."

"Let us see it."

Instantly the crowd scampered back to the square, followed more
leisurely by Uncle John and the girls. There the uniformed vetturio
stood beside the one modern carriage in the group. It was new; it was
glossy; it had beautiful, carefully brushed cushions; it was drawn by a
pair of splendid looking horses.

"Is not bellissima, signore?" asked the m