A drought or a destructive rain is therefore to be feared by any government, especially if there be malcontents to make use of it.  There was quite a severe drought in Asisi last summer, and loud and deep were the imprecations we heard against the government.  As the vines withered and the corn shrank, so withered and shrank the king and his ministers in the esteem of these poor people.  Count Bindangoli told me that they very much feared some democratic demonstration, and that they were anxiously looking forward to the winter.  In vain for weeks we looked over to Perugia for rain (rain comes to Asisi only from that direction).  In vain were prayers in the churches, processions and promises.  We saw the gray showers sail around the horizon, heard their far-off thunders, saw the lightning zigzag down through the slanting torrents, and almost saw the hills grow green under them.  The only tempests we had were those we saw brooding on the brows of scowling contadini.  They talked openly of a republic, they were sick of the devouring taxes, they regretted the papacy:  there was certainly danger of some “scompiglio,” my padrone di casa assured me.

At length, after long weeks of waiting, Perugia disappeared in a gray deluge:  the rain came marching like an army across the plain toward us; its first scattered drops printed the dust, its sheets of water drenched the windows, its small torrents rushed down the steep streets.  The mountains grew dim and almost disappeared:  we were shut in with hope and a fresh delight.  Then the deluge settled into a gentle rain, under which the grapes swelled out their globes, the corn rustled with a fuller growth and the hearts of men grew content.  The king and his ministers also budded out into new beauty, and flourished in popular esteem like the green bay tree, and the republic was quenched—­till the next drought.

The Author of “Signor Monaldini’s Niece.”

HORSE-RACING IN FRANCE,

TWO PAPERS.—­I.

[Illustration:  THE RACE-COURSE AT LONGCHAMPS.]

The passion for horse-racing, which for more than two centuries has made the sport a national one in England, cannot be said to exist in France, and the introduction of this “pastime of princes” into the latter country has been of comparatively recent date.  Mention, it is true, has been found of races on the plain of Les Sablons as early as 1776, and in the next year a sweepstakes of forty horses, followed by one of as many asses, was run at Fontainebleau in the presence of the court.  But it is not until 1783 that one meets with the semblance of an organization, and this as a mere caprice of certain grandees, who affected an English style in everything, and who thought to introduce the customs of the English turf along with the chapeau Anglais and the riding-coat.  It was notably the comte d’Artois (afterward Charles X.), the duc de Chartres (Philippe Egalite),