to meet someone who remembered
him. Perhaps it would be an old woman labouring along under a
burden; she would smile and stop, take his hand and tell him how
happy she was to meet him again and repeat her thanks for the empty
wine bottle he had given her after an out-of-door luncheon in her
neighbourhood four or five years before. There was another who had
rowed him many times across the Lago di Orta and had never been in a
train but once in her life, when she went to Novara to her son's
wedding. He always remembered all about these people and asked how
the potatoes were doing this year and whether the grandchildren were
growing up into fine boys and girls, and he never forgot to inquire
after the son who had gone to be a waiter in New York. At Civiasco
there is a restaurant which used to be kept by a jolly old lady,
known for miles round as La Martina; we always lunched with her on
our way over the Colma to and from Varallo-Sesia. On one occasion
we were accompanied by two English ladies and, one being a
teetotaller, Butler maliciously instructed La Martina to make the
sabbaglione so that it should be forte and abbondante, and to say
that the Marsala, with which it was more than flavoured, was nothing
but vinegar. La Martina never forgot that when she looked in to see
how things were going, he was pretending to lick the dish clean.
These journeys provided the material for a book which he thought of
calling "Verdi Prati," after one of Handel's most beautiful songs;
but he changed his mind, and it appeared at the end of 1881 as Alps
and Sanctuaries of Piedmont and the Canton Ticino with more than
eighty illustrations, nearly all by Butler. Charles Gogin made an
etching for the frontispiece, drew some of the pictures, and put
figures into others; half a dozen are mine. They were all redrawn
in ink from sketches made on the spot, in oil, water-colour, and
pencil. There were also many illustrations of another kind--
extracts from Handel's music, each chosen because Butler thought it
suitable to the spirit of the scene he wished to bring before the
reader. The introduction concludes with these words: "I have
chosen Italy as my second country, and would dedicate this book to
her as a thank-offering for the happiness she has afforded me."

In the spring of 1883 he began to compose music, and in 1885 we
published together an album of minuets, gavottes, and fugues. This
led to our writing Narcissus, which is an Orat