lid but sold certain of
its treasures. Of its famous internal marble staircase, for example, no
trace remains. Then, after probably more careless tenants, came Baron
Franchetti with his wealth and zeal to restore such of its glories as he
might, and although no haste is being employed, the good work continues.
The palace is not open, but an obliging custodian is pleased to grow
enthusiastic to visitors. Slowly but painstakingly the reconstruction
proceeds. Painted ceilings are being put back, mosaic floors are being
pieced together, cornices are taking the place of terrible papering and
boarding: enough of all of the old having remained for the scheme to be
faithfully completed. Stepping warily over the crazy floors of these
vast rooms, one does not envy Taglioni when the Tramontana blew. She
would have to dance then, if ever, or be cold indeed.

The facade of the Ca' d'Oro is of course its greatest possession. Venice
has nothing more satisfyingly ornate: richness without floridity. But
let no one think to know all its beauty until he has penetrated to the
little chapel and stood before Mantegna's S. Sebastian, that great
simple work of art by an intellectual master. This noble painting,
possibly the last from his brush, was found in Mantegna's studio after
his death. Notice the smoking candle-wick at the foot, and the motto
which says that everything that is not of God is as smoke evanescent.

A steamboat station for passengers going towards the Rialto is opposite
the Ca' d'Oro calle. Then comes the garden of the Palazzo Pesaro, now
the Paraguay consulate; then the Sagredo, an extremely ancient Gothic
building with a beautiful window and balcony, now badly served by paint
and stucco and shutters; and then another traghetto at the Campo S.
Sofia, with a vine ramping over its shelter. Stucco again injures the
Palazzo Foscari, which has a pretty relief of the Madonna and Child;
then we come to a calle and the Ca' d'Oro steamboat station for
passengers going towards the railway.

An ugly yellow building comes next, and then the fine dingy Palazzo
Michiel dalle Colonne with brown posts and ten columns, now the property
of Count Antonio Dona dalle Rose, who permits visitors to see it in his
absence. It is the first palace since we left the Scalzi that looks as
if it were in rightful hands. The principal attraction is its tapestry,
some of which is most charming, particularly a pattern of plump and
impish cherubs among vine