make any
effort to elevate himself or to change his swinish nature in any
particular, but thinks we should all bring ourselves down to the
boar's mental and physical level as soon as we can. The closing verses
of the third sonnet may be freely rendered as follows:

And when, at last, the grave shall close above us,
No solemn prayer our resting-place should hallow,
No flowers be strewn by hands of those that love us.

But if, at times, you'll come where we are lying,
O worthy friend! upon our graves to wallow,
That thought should give us joy when we are dying.

The last piece in this little collection is addressed to "The Birds of
my Garden" _(Agli Uccelletti del mio Giardino)_. Though inferior to
the others in boldness and originality of conception, it is much more
graceful and attractive, and shows that the writer is by no means
deficient in elegance of style and delicacy of treatment.

Signor Rizzi may, it is probable, be taken as a type of a large class
among his countrymen, to which the iconoclastic tendencies of our time
seem strange and horrible. Indeed, it is possible that he is one of
the earliest heralds of a widespread reaction in opinion and feeling
throughout his native land. At any rate, his poems can hardly fail
to become popular, and to produce some effect among a people so
susceptible to the influences of witty and sarcastic poetry as are the
Italians even at this day.

W. W. C.

A NEZ PERCE FUNERAL.

"Call me, Washington, when they are going to bury him," said the
doctor.

George Washington, evidently not quite sure that he understood the
doctor, said with an interrogative glance, "You like--see him--dead
man--put in ground?" And, pointing downward and alternately bending
and extending one knee, he made a semblance of delving.

The doctor nodded.

"Good! Me tell you."

"I want to go, Washington," said the lieutenant.

"And I too," said the lieutenant's guest, myself.

George Washington was one of the Nez Perce prisoners surrendered by
Joseph to General Miles after the battle of Bear-Paw Mountain. The
dead man was one of the wounded in that action who died from his
wounds, aggravated, no doubt, by fatigue and exposure while the
prisoners were marching to the east in the winter of 1877 under orders
from the War Department. George spoke a few words of English, and was
quite an intelligent Indian. He was very clean--for an Indian--and was
comfortably clad.

"How so