Harper's New Monthly Magazine Volume 109 June to November 1904 . asenjoyable as aFourth of Julypicnic. Thefirst child wemet wished tobe our guide,with no otherqualificationsthan an oldarmy cap and afine mannerwhen dispers-ing had afriend, how-ever, who spokeEnglish ifurged, and who,upon beingurged, flappedhis arms andmurmured Beautifulview, with theuncertain airof a young ban-tam tryingto crow. Afterthat, we all satdown upon thegrass outsidethe Porta SanGiovanni andhunted four-leaved clovers, Domenica and others ofher sex joining us. Indeed, it was Do-menica who found the first symb
Harper's New Monthly Magazine Volume 109 June to November 1904 . asenjoyable as aFourth of Julypicnic. Thefirst child wemet wished tobe our guide,with no otherqualificationsthan an oldarmy cap and afine mannerwhen dispers-ing had afriend, how-ever, who spokeEnglish ifurged, and who,upon beingurged, flappedhis arms andmurmured Beautifulview, with theuncertain airof a young ban-tam tryingto crow. Afterthat, we all satdown upon thegrass outsidethe Porta SanGiovanni andhunted four-leaved clovers, Domenica and others ofher sex joining us. Indeed, it was Do-menica who found the first symbol ofluck, and presented it to us with asmiling buona fortuna. She wasgenuinely surprised at the reward of twocents, but the news of our liberality musthave passed quickly through her cohorts,for clovering became a tremendous in-dustry, and we were met hourly at thehotel by politely avaricious little girlswith neatly spliced offerings of the three-leaved variety. Domenica finally drovethem away. She wore an apron, often aclean one, and was something of a gen-. The Torre del Comune from without the Walls era! in her district, though her commandwas hampered by the care of a baby—apoor thing a little the worse for she was no greater power among herown than was our friend Sam in theVia delle Romite. It was a memorable morning down bythe public washing fountains when wemet Sam. We were sitting on the clothes-lines, one might say, for the women werespreading their linen on the grass allabout us, our own garments decorating< itlier side the roadway with gratifyingresults. The artist missed a shirt, andbecame quite peevish about it. Ho 136 HARPERS MONTHLY MAGAZINE. blamed his state of mind to the swarm offlies; and the scribe, with a glowing con-viction that literature does not pay, brokeoff an olive-branch, in a most unpeacefulframe of mind, and proceeded to beat theflies from the artistic atmosphere. Atthis crucial moment Sam appeared (hisname turned out to be Giuseppe,
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