hout fault; he was mild, incorruptible, and placid,
as careful of us as a father of his children, and he grew as fond of
us as we were of him, so that the final parting, after the journey was
done, was really a moving scene. I have found the tribe of cabbies, in
all countries, to be, as a rule, somewhat cantankerous and sinister;
but Gaetano compensated for all his horse-driving brethren. To be sure,
_vettura_ driving is not like cabbing, and Gaetano was in the habit of
getting out often and walking up the hills, thus exercising his liver.
But he must have been born with a strong predisposition to goodness,
which he never outgrew.

Save for a few showers, it was fine weather all the way, and a good part
of the way was covered on foot by my father and me; for the hills were
many, and the winding ascents long, and we would alight and leave
the slow-moving vehicle, with its ponderous freight, behind us, to be
overtaken perhaps an hour or two later on the levels or declivities.
Gaetano was a consummate whip, and he carried his team down the descents
and round the exciting turns at a thrilling pace, while the yards of
whiplash cracked and detonated overhead like a liliputian thunder-storm.
On the mountain-tops were romantic villages, surrounding rock-built
castles which had been robber strongholds centuries before, and we
traversed peaceful plains which had been the scenes of famous Roman
battles, and whose brooks had run red with blood before England's
history began. We paused a day in Perugia, and received the Bronze
Pontiff's benediction; the silent voices of history were everywhere
speaking to the spiritual ear. Meanwhile I regarded the trip as being,
primarily, an opportunity to collect unusual snail-shells; and we passed
through a region full of natural crystals, some of them of such size as
to prompt my father to forbid their being added to our luggage. I could
not understand his insensibility. Could I have had my way, I would have
loaded a wain with them. I liked the villages and castles, too, and
the good dinners at the inns, and the sound sleeps in mediaeval beds
at night; but the crystals and the snail-shells were the true aim and
sustenance of my life. My mother and sister sketched continually, and
Miss Shepard was always ready to tell us the story of the historical
features which we encountered; it astounded me to note how much she knew
about things which she had never before seen. One afternoon we drove
down fr