Page:Harper's New Monthly Magazine - v109.djvu/149

Rh Guelph from a hot cross-bun, are of the cheerful race that makes a political campaign in Mulberry Street as enjoyable as a Fourth of July picnic. The first child we met wished to be our guide, with no other qualifications than an old army cap and a fine manner when dispersing beggars. He had a friend, however, who spoke English if urged, and who, upon being urged, flapped his arms and murmured "Beautiful view," with the uncertain air of a young bantam trying to crow. After that, we all sat down upon the grass outside the Porta San Giovanni and hunted four-leaved clovers, Domenica and others of her sex joining us. Indeed, it was Domenica who found the first symbol of luck, and presented it to us with a smiling "buona fortuna." She was genuinely surprised at the reward of two cents, but the news of our liberality must have passed quickly through her cohorts, for clovering became a tremendous industry, and we were met hourly at the hotel by politely avaricious little girls with neatly spliced offerings of the three-leaved variety. Domenica finally drove them away. She wore an apron, often a clean one, and was something of a general in her district, though her command was hampered by the care of a baby—a poor thing a little the worse for wear. But she was no greater power among her own than was our friend Sam in the Via delle Romite.

It was a memorable morning down by the public washing fountains when we met Sam. We were sitting on the clotheslines, one might say, for the women were spreading their linen on the grass all about us, our own garments decorating either side the roadway with gratifying results. The artist missed a shirt, and became quite peevish about it. He