was a great help. Lady Elton, who followed the Continental fashion of introducing her guests to each other, had presented Maurice to her nephew. And Max Frere was most gracious. He was quite familiar with Mr. Balfour's name. In short, it had been a "household word at Dungar, where he had the pleasure of knowing the rector Mr. Balfour's grandfather, he believed. A very agreeable type of the higher ecclesiastic. A picturesque addition to the Dungar group. Did Mr. Balfour intend to make any stay in town? To which civilities Grace listened with an odd, distrustful impatience, though admitting to herself that her cousin's manner, and voice, and words were all perfect in their way, and contrasting his finished man-of-the-world style with the natural unstudied ease of her old friend. To her relief, just before the procession to the dining-room was formed, Lady Elton brought up the Australian, and presented him, first to Grace and then to Balfour, saying, in the first case, "You will take Miss Frere to dinner." And to Balfour: "No one can tell you so much about Australia as Mr. Macintyre." Mr. Macintyre was a short, thick man, not fat, but muscular, with a red face, red hair, red whiskers, and, it seemed to Grace, red eyes. Ay," he said, "I have travelled pretty well over it as much as a man may. And you'll be thinking of going there, Mr. Balfour, Lady Elton tells me?" He spoke with a strong accent, curling up the tails of his sentences in a fashion suggestive of Glasgow. Before Balfour could reply, the cheering sound of "dinner" set them in motion; and in the pleasant occupation which succeeded, no consecutive conversation was possible. "Randal's defection has made my table uneven," said Lady Elton, looking round during the first pause, "and I did not find any suitable person to fill his place." "Is not this Sir Alexander Atwell the man who had a controversy in the Athenæum with Jenkins, the antiquarian, about some stones, or coins, or some such mat ter?" asked Mr. Frere. "Yes. He picked up some trash somewhere, which he wished the South Kensington people to accept as genuine. He would go to the stake for it himself," returned Lady Elton. "He and Randal together will discover a good deal in Egypt," said Max, with much seriousness. "Egyptology has been developed almost into an exact science," observed one of the nobodies. "They say now, that after a little learning, one can read off the inscriptions as you would an article in the Times." "What! those strange birds, and beasts, and things one sees on the stones in the British Museum?" asked Grace of her neighbor, the Australian. "I wonder that learned people do not interest themselves more in the remains of Central America," said Balfour; "they are, to my mind, the most curious relics of all." "Have you seen them?" asked Grace, who was opposite him. "Yes, one." "You must tell me all about it some day," she returned, at which remark Max looked up sharply from his plate. "Well, the only hieroglyphics to be met with in Australia are of nature's writing," said the explorer; "and though practice might enable you to decipher a good many, there are plenty left to baffle one. You have some thoughts of visiting the colony, sir," to Balfour. "May I ask if you are thinking of sheep-farming?" No. There are some railways and other works in contemplation, and I hope to be one of the engineers." "Have you not been in South America, Mr. Balfour?" asked Mr. Frere from his place at the head of the table by Lady Elton. "I have." "Did you happen to meet a man of the name of Darnell out there?" "Darnell," repeated Grace. possible "Is it "Oh, not our friend," interrupted Lady Elton; "a cousin of his, a ne'er-do-weel at least he never seems to have got on here, poor fellow." "Your interest in the rejected is not quite extinct, then?" whispered Max into his cousin's ear. " Grace, I believe you are a coquette." "Yes, he was rather unsteady; but he appears to be doing well now," said Mr. Frere. "Darnell! he was my chum in Chili," exclaimed Balfour, with animation, "and an excellent fellow; a little reckless, but full of pluck. We have stood by each other in some curious scenes; indeed, he saved my life once." "How?" asked Lady Elton. "Oh, it is a long story." "Not too long, I am sure, as we are interested in both actors," returned the | off," said Max, coffee-cup in hand, as he hostess. "There is nothing very exciting in it," said Balfour carelessly. "You see to be in danger was our normal condition in South America. They were a fearfully rough lot, the navvies, as we would call them; and the whole concern was pervaded with a life-in-your-hand' principle that somehow one got used to." "Rather an unprofitable kind of employment," said Mr. Frere, with an air of looking down into an unfathomable depth of ruffianism from the awful height of his own respectability. "No, it was not," returned Balfour with his immovable good-humored ease. "I was well paid, though I had to wait for my money, and I learned a great deal. There was wonderfully fine engineering on that line. You know, it is all through giant mountains, among superb scenery. But the spirit of man in those regions is very far from divine. We were surrounded by a collection of desperadoes of all nationalities. Indeed, the president and his prime minister were perhaps the worst of all, for theirs was a sort of intellectual devilry." "But that does not tell how Darnell saved your life," said Lady Elton. "How were you induced to go to such place? "It was partly accident. I had been employed in Spain, and the work was finished there. A Spaniard, with whom I had become very intimate, induced me to try my luck in Brazil. There I met Darnell, and we went together to Chili." Lady Elton made another attempt to elicit the tale of Balfour's adventure, but he was not to be deluded into a long story of himself in that mixed company. "At all events, Darnell has got himself into a good position now," said Max. "Yes," returned Balfour; "he is partner in the firm of Denny, Calthorpe, and Darnell, the contractors." "Is it not rather late in the season for Egypt?" asked the Hungarian, breaking a short pause. 66 "Yes," returned Lady Elton. "Sir Alexander Atwell has been delayed; and, I believe, intends to visit Roumania, or Thessaly, or some such place, during the summer, and return to Egypt in the win ter." "What poems and rough notes we may expect!" said Max laughing, to his cous in. And soon after the ladies retired. "That Balfour seems to have taken up his old intimacy with you just where he left sat down on the sofa beside Grace. "How long is it since you last met?" "Five years." "He is not a bad sort of fellow, considering that he seems always to live beyond the pale of civilization." "No." "Is it true, as I gathered from what he was saying to Lady Elton, that he is going to Germany — to Zittau ?” "Yes." "Have you resolved henceforth to speak always in monosyllables?" "I do not think of anything else to say." "Grace, why is Balfour going to Zittau?" "To see us, and also some German friends. You know he was for some time in Germany." "No; I know nothing about him, except that he is a favorite of yours." "Yes, he is- a great favorite." Max looked hard at her, and she met his eyes calmly and firmly. "I am very, very fond of Maurice Balfour," she said. IT has always seemed to me that the well-to-do Italian peasant must think that the world, or at least the world he sees, was made on purpose for him. The soil, with its rich harvests, is peculiarly his own. The fairs supply all his wants in the way of clothes, ornaments, and utensils; the padrone is there all ready to be cheated; the priest to look after his soul; processions and festas amuse him par excellence. When prosperous he knows no unsatisfied desire, and is so thoroughly contented with his lot that he seldom seeks to rise a degree in the social scale. However rich he may become, his habits, manners, and ideas undergo no change. unwary stranger. On passing a cottage, Reading and writing are arts which he despises, and never wishes his children to learn. The women are sometimes gorgeous in velvet and silk and gold ornaments; but their costume is still strictly the peasant costume. The houses are often large; for many branches of a family will dwell together in a sort of clan, and I have known seven brothers, all with wives and children, live under the same roof. These dwellings of brick with tiled roofs are long and low, with very small unglazed windows, the staircase and oven outside, and the ground floor devoted to the accommodation of the live stock. There is no attempt at adornment inside or out; more unattractive abodes can scarcely be imagined. One of the brothers (not always the eldest) is called the vergaro, and his wife the vergara. This couple takes the command, and directs operations. The cultivation of the soil is of course the chief business; every season has its harvest. The corn is cut in June; Indian corn in August. Early in October is the vintage, and the olives are gathered and pressed at the end of the year. After this, and when the sowing is finished, comes a time of repose from agricultural labor, and then the women are hard at work in the manufacture of clothes for the family. These they literally grow themselves, spinning, weaving, and dyeing their own flax; the men, if industriously disposed, make baskets and straw hats. The children are set to guard the sheep and the pigs at a very early age. As for the baby, it is tied into its cradle and left to squall to its heart's content. The interior of the house is neither clean nor comfortable, but it has a certain picturesqueness. From the low-raftered ceiling hangs a goodly array of hams, and the wooden ledge along the wall is ornamented with rows of cheese made of ewe's milk, and loaves of Indian corn bread. A happy family of dogs, cats, hens, chickens, and perhaps a pig of domestic habits, make themselves at home on the stone floor. At the loom by the window one of the women may be seen weaving; and the grandmother will be spinning or knitting by the open The feasts of the Church are strictly hearth, on which an oak branch, leaves | observed by the peasants. They are full and all, crackles and blazes. Under a of superstitions fostered by the priests, large iron stewpan, where the erba or the whose influence, fast diminishing with polenta is cooking, a watch-dog lies the upper classes, is still paramount with stretched his lazy length at the nonna's the peasantry. The respect is for the feet, and with him an imp, rising two, will office the man himself is often the obbe sharing a yellow loaf. These watch-ject of abuse and scorn. To one whose dogs perform their duty so zealously as birth is involved in mystery (and there are to make country walks dangerous to the many), the insinuation that he is figlio di prete is a favorite taunt, and is resented | rible loss, signora," sobbed he. I, reas a cruel insult. I have heard of a membering that his daughter had lately priest being waylaid by two brothers who died of fever, began to express my symfelt themselves in need of spiritual suc-pathy. "Ma che la friga!" he exclaimed cor. "Absolve us from our sins," they impatiently (friga in that dialect means a commanded; and the holy man, at first girl); "it was a cow!" as if I must surely refusing to do so, was beaten until he understand what a much greater misforcomplied. A print of the Madonna is to tune that was. Still there is a kindly be seen in every peasant's bedroom; feeling among them. I know a young none are without some charm concealed woman who sold her beautiful hair in about their persons; and scarcely one but order to buy a pair of shoes for her has made a pilgrimage to Loreto to be- mother, and a young man who married an hold the house of the Virgin, miraculously old woman out of gratitude. He was a transported thither by angels from the foundling whom she had tended from his coast of Dalmatia. Every peasant returns babyhood. He grew a fine young man, thence with arms plentifully tattooed in and she an ugly, wrinkled old woman. memory of the consecrated spot. In all The pair seemed ill-assorted, but there corn-fields various little wooden crosses was much true affection between them. I are dotted about in order that the divine took the mother of a family to England blessing may rest upon the harvest. You for six months in the capacity of wetcannot walk a mile along a high road nurse. There, in the enjoyment of every without coming upon a shrine erected to luxury, and, what Italians prize most of the Virgin, and no peasant passes the all, an idle life, she pined to return to her half-effaced daub without making the sign poverty-stricken home, where food was of the cross, and seldom without stopping scarce and incessant labor incumbent to kneel and pray. upon her. When near the end of our homeward journey, I asked her if she did not expect her husband and children to be at our house, to greet her after such a long absence. Ah, no!" she replied. with a sigh; "the contadini are not like. vossignorie." But she was agreeably surprised by the sight of all her family on our first arrival, and the scene was affect. ing. Even a brother had walked twenty miles to be assured that she was still alive after a sojourn in our barbarous country, as a rumor had spread that she had succumbed to the hardships of foreign travel. Babies and animals are great sufferers from the prevalent superstitions. Babies are branded at the back of the neck, and dogs on the forehead, to keep them from harm. When I remonstrated with a contadina for keeping her dog without water, using the only argument I thought likely to have any weight with her that it might probably go mad "Oh! there is no fear," she replied; "he has been branded with the ferro di S. Antonio, so no harm can come near him; showing me an ugly scar on the poor brute's forehead. The utter indifference to the sufferings of animals displayed by all classes of Italians seems an anomaly in such a kind-hearted race. It does not proceed from any love of cruelty, but from mere thoughtlessness. They are a civil-spoken people, and I never met one in my walks who did not greet me with "Buon passeggio, Signora Marchesa," or "Principessa," as the fit may take them, for they are liberal with their titles. On meeting a little child, it The feelings of the peasants are not always is "Ogni nocia," which is elliptioften deep or refined. The loss of money cal for "May all harm be warded off from or of money's worth is thought more of it!" They are ready enough to enter into than the loss of children, of parents, or of conversation, and often display curiosity. friends. Many a time that I have passed about that strange country, Inghilterra, a cottage and asked after a little child I where they have heard everybody is rich. had seen playing at the door, the mother"What a fertile country it must be!" has replied in a cheerful voice, "It has gone to Paradise;" but if one of the huge, sleek oxen should come to an untimely end, oh! then the grief is most noisy and overwhelming men, women, and children throw themselves on the ground, tear their hair, beat their breasts, and howl as if possessed. I once came upon a peasant of my acquaintance weeping by the roadside. "I have had a ter they reflect. "Surely, signora, there can be no tree without a vine in your country! When they hear that there are neither vines nor olives, their perplexity is extreme. Where, then, do all the riches come from?" The dialect takes some time to master; but when you know that B's and V's, R's and L's, O's and U's are convertible letters, some clue is obtained. It must also be remembered. that long tails are tacked on to the short-looked graceful. The practice of carryest and simplest words: poco is lengthened ing all weights on the head gives a very into poconcino, and for common use again peculiar swinging walk. A cloth rolled shortened into conci; cosi is spun out round in a circle is first placed on the into cosintra; si into shine; no into non-head, and on the top of it the basket or ni. Their conversation among them- pitcher frequently quite askew; but it selves is chiefly agricultural; the state of never falls, and a hand is never raised to the crops, and the health of the live stock, support it. I have seen women stoop to not including the children, form the staple pick up something from the ground withof it. No one is ever called by his or her out disturbing the balance of their basproper surname; one family will be nick-ket. named "Gobbo," "another " Zoppo," a Land is generally cultivated on the systhird "Matto," for no ostensible reason, tem here called sistema colonica; the as the peculiarities indicated by their nick- proprietor supplies capital, the coloni names may not be observable in any one labor, and the profits are supposed to be of them. Coming once upon a large party shared equally; but, as a matter of fact, of laborers at work upon a hillside, I in the padrone seldom gets his legitimate quired, "Who may you be?" "Siamo half, because it is perfectly easy for peasCico," was the reply, as with one voice; but ants to secretly dispose of a great portion the real name of the Cicos I have never of the produce before the division is been able to discover, nor is there any made, especially as the landlords in genclue to the origin of the nickname, unless eral exercise little or no superintendence it were invented to rhyme with Trico, the over their farms, but entrust that task to appellation of a flourishing family who their fattore, or steward. This worthy is live in the same neighborhood, and whose usually as fond of a quiet life as his masreal name is Biancucci. The men have ter, and he and the peasants have a gendiscarded their once picturesque costume. eral understanding, which is at once On working days they wear a white profitable to both sides and conducive to smock, and on Sundays home-manufac- peace. This may partly account for the tured coats and trousers of an exceedingly number of ruined proprietors and of prosawkward shape. The earrings, and the perous peasants. It has been said that red sashes round their waists, with some- the casa colonica often joins on to the times a knife peeping out of their folds, casino of the proprietor. Sometimes it all are all that remain greatly to distinguish forms one establishment, and the peasthem from the English rustic. But the ants are made useful as servants. It fell women's attire is picturesque enough, es- to my lot at one time to live thus in close pecially in summer, when they have un- quarters with my peasants. The family covered their stays and white chemises. consisted of two brothers with their wives The stays, sometimes of black velvet, but and children, and their grandfather, who, oftener of some more ordinary material, in consideration of his savings, was are laced up the back with white or col- housed and fed. I had every opportunity ored braids. The skirt, either blue, or of observing their manners and customs, striped blue and red, is turned up and and did not find them attractive. The looped behind over one or more very women would sit on the doorsteps every short petticoats. A narrow apron of Sunday morning, combing their hair and some different color from that of the skirt that of the children. This performance is always worn out of doors; indoors it is only took place on Sunday. It was more not considered necessary. Gay kerchiefs elaborate in operation than agreeable as are worn across the shoulders, and folded a spectacle. I inquired whether they square on the head. Enormous gold ear- could not make it convenient to keep rings and a coral necklace are considered their heads a little cleaner. To this the proper adjuncts. For the height of sum- vergara replied that she did not know mer a broad straw hat surmounts the what would be thought of her were she to kerchief, and the feet and legs are bare. be so fastidious; she was a respectable On festa days they swell out their hips woman, not given to frequent dressing of with an enormous number of stiff petti- the hair and such like coquettishness. coats I have heard of as many as eigh- The killing of the pig was considered teen being worn on a grand occasion. such an agreeable and enlivening spectaThe skirt is let down, the chemise is cov-cle that it took place (I suppose out of ered with an ill-fitting loose jacket, shoes compliment to me) opposite the front and stockings are put on, and the conta- door. Two famished dogs continually dina looks as ungainly as, before, she found the means of emptying the con |