the narrow gorges, whose steep slopes we could see were terraced to the top, and planted with vines.  We could distinguish enough to know that, with the old Roman ruins, the churches and convent towers perched on the crags, and all, the scenery in summer must be finer than that of the Rhine, especially as the vineyards here are picturesque,—­the vines being trained so as to hide and clothe the ground with verdure.

It was four o’clock when we reached Trent, and colder than on top of the Brenner.  As the Council, owing to the dead state of its members for now three centuries, was not in session, we made no long tarry.  We went into the magnificent large refreshment-room to get warm; but it was as cold as a New England barn.  I asked the proprietor if we could not get at a fire; but he insisted that the room was warm, that it was heated with a furnace, and that he burned good stove-coal, and pointed to a register high up in the wall.  Seeing that I looked incredulous, he insisted that I should test it.  Accordingly, I climbed upon a table, and reached up my hand.  A faint warmth came out; and I gave it up, and congratulated the landlord on his furnace.  But the register had no effect on the great hall.  You might as well try to heat the dome of St. Peter’s with a lucifer-match.  At dark, Allah be praised! we reached Ala, where we went through the humbug of an Italian custom-house, and had our first glimpse of Italy in the picturesque-looking idlers in red-tasseled caps, and the jabber of a strange tongue.  The snow turned into a cold rain:  the foot-warmers, we having reached the sunny lands, could no longer be afforded; and we shivered along till nine o’clock, dark and rainy, brought us to Verona.  We emerged from the station to find a crowd of omnibuses, carriages, drivers, runners, and people anxious to help us, all vociferating in the highest key.  Amidst the usual Italian clamor about nothing, we gained our hotel omnibus, and sat there for ten minutes watching the dispute over our luggage, and serenely listening to the angry vituperations of policemen and drivers.  It sounded like a revolution, but it was only the ordinary Italian way of doing things; and we were at last rattling away over the broad pavements.

Of course, we stopped at a palace turned hotel, drove into a court with double flights of high stone and marble stairways, and were hurried up to the marble-mosaic landing by an active boy, and, almost before we could ask for rooms, were shown into a suite of magnificent apartments.  I had a glimpse of a garden in the rear,—­flowers and plants, and a balcony up which I suppose Romeo climbed to hold that immortal love-prattle with the lovesick Juliet.  Boy began to light the candles.  Asked in English the price of such fine rooms.  Reply in Italian.  Asked in German.  Reply in Italian.  Asked in French, with the same result.  Other servants appeared, each with a piece of baggage.  Other candles were lighted.  Everybody talked in chorus.  The