In the course of time, after various false alarms on our part, the band confidently strikes up “God Save the King!” and there is a flashing and prancing in the distance that creates a great stir.  The citizen guard, a stately body of burghers, rides out with the king on this day of all the year, and comes caracoling by in fine style, he in the midst bowing and smiling.  And now, after the Herrschaften—­hohe and hoechste—­come the animals.  First, horses haughtily stepping, and then splendid bulls with wreaths on their horns and garlands round their—­waists shall we say?—­are led before the king, standing at the foot of the steps and handing the prizes to the farmers, who present themselves, ducking and scraping.  It seems a shame to tie up the creatures’ legs so, and put rings through their noses:  some have even a cloth bound over their heads; and if all these precautionary measures are necessary, it ought to be a relief when the procession of mild cows begins, They look out amiably from under the floral crowns that have slipped low on their brows, or turn with half-conscious pride to the handsome little calves that trot beside them.  The sheep, seeking to attract too early the notice of royalty, dash out in a flock, and are driven back with jeering and hooting, as they deserve to be.  Then the pigs stagger by:  their garlands are excessively unbecoming.  Such of the family of swine as are too young to stagger are wheeled in handcarts in the rear; and so the ceremonies are closed, except for a couple of races which take place immediately, and with no great eclat.  The burgher races these are called, while on the third and last day are the officers’ races.  The rain prevented our attending them, and we consoled ourselves, hearing it intimated by those who had been at Ascot and Longchamps that we had not lost a great deal.

G.H.P.

A PAIR OF WHEELS AND AN OLD PARASOL.

The threads from which the tissue of history is being woven are ever in unceasing and rapid motion in the hands of the Fates.  But these deities for the most part love to work unseen, like the bees.  It is only when the spinning is going on with exceptional rapidity and vigor that the movements of the threads and the characteristics of the operation can be observed on the surface of social life, Such is the case in these days at Rome, and it is not necessary to watch the actions of governments or listen to the discussions of legislative chambers in order to assure one’s self of the fact.  One cannot walk the streets without having the phenomena which are the outward and visible signs of it thrust in a thousand ways on the observation of our senses.  The other day I read a whole chapter of contemporary history compressed into the appearance of a pair of wheels engaged in their ordinary daily duty in the streets.  It was in that central and crowded part of the city which is between the church of the Gesu and the Farnese