BREAKFAST AT BELLINZONA.

   IT WAS THEIR FIRST DAY IN ITALY, AND HOW THEY DID ENJOY IT! THE REPAST WAS SERVED IN A STONE SUMMER-HOUSE ATTACHED TO THE HOTEL. THE SUN WAS SO BRIGHT, AND SO HOT; THE SKY WAS SO BLUE, THE VEGETATION SO GREEN, THE MOUNTAINS SO PURPLE, THE GRAPES SO LARGE, AND EVERYTHING SO BEAUTIFUL, THAT BROWN AND JONES BOTH DECIDED THAT THE SCENE FULLY REALISED ALL THEIR IMAGININGS OF ITALY. ROBINSON WAS ENTHUSIASTIC, TOO, AT FIRST, AND WAS BEGINNING TO SAY SOMETHING ABOUT “ITALIA, O ITALIA,” WHEN HIS EYE LIT UPON A GREEN LIZARD RUNNING UP THE WALL. FROM THAT MOMENT HE WAS MORE SUBDUED.

   HOW THEY GOT ROBINSON UP THE HILLS.

     ITALIAN LAKES.

   THEY LAND UPON AUSTRIAN TERRITORY EN ROUTE FOR MILAN. WHILE THE “PROPER OFFICER” TAKES POSSESSION OF THEIR PASSPORTS, THE WHOLE AVAILABLE POPULATION POUNCES UPON THE LUGGAGE, AND, AFTER APPORTIONING IT INTO “SMALL ALLOTMENTS,” CARRIES IT OFF TO THE CUSTOM HOUSE.

   THE OFFICIAL HERE IS SEEN “POINTING” ON THE SCENT (AS HE THINKS) OF CONTRABAND GOODS IN ONE OF ROBINSON’S PORTMANTEAUS. HE DID NOT “FIND,” BUT IN THE HUNT, TOSSED R.’S “THINGS” DREADFULLY. BROWN REVENGED THE WRONGS OF SELF AND FRIENDS, BY TAKING A FULL LENGTH, ON THE SPOT, OF THAT IMPOSING ADMINISTRATOR, WHO STANDS OVER THERE, WITH THE PASSPORTS IN HIS HAND.

   EVENING ON THE LAGO MAGGIORE.

   “’KNOWEST THOU THE LAND’ WHERE THE GRAPES ARE AS PLENTIFUL AS BLACKBERRIES IN ENGLAND; AND WHERE ONE HAS ONLY TO STOP A MINUTE AT THE ROADSIDE, AND PULL NO END OF ’EM. O ’TIS THERE! ’TIS THERE! ETC.”

    —Robinson’s Letters to his Kinsfolk.

   A BOAT AT ORTA.

   A MOUNTAIN WALK.

   ROBINSON, WITH WARMTH, AND SOME DISTANCE BEHIND,— “WHAT IS THE USE OF GOING ON AT THAT RATE?”

   POOR JONES! WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT HE COULD EVER BE TIRED!

   PLEASANT.

   THE ACCIDENT THAT BEFELL ROBINSON.

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