sarcasms at our crew.  It was more than human nature could bear.  The executive officer ordered our men ashore—­with instructions not to fight.  They charged the British and gained a brilliant victory.  I probably would not have mentioned this war had it ended differently.  But I travel to learn, and I still remember that they picture no French defeats in the battle-galleries of Versailles.

It was like home to us to step on board the comfortable ship again and smoke and lounge about her breezy decks.  And yet it was not altogether like home, either, because so many members of the family were away.  We missed some pleasant faces which we would rather have found at dinner, and at night there were gaps in the euchre-parties which could not be satisfactorily filled.  “Moult” was in England, Jack in Switzerland, Charley in Spain.  Blucher was gone, none could tell where.  But we were at sea again, and we had the stars and the ocean to look at, and plenty of room to meditate in.

In due time the shores of Italy were sighted, and as we stood gazing from the decks, early in the bright summer morning, the stately city of Genoa rose up out of the sea and flung back the sunlight from her hundred palaces.

Here we rest for the present—­or rather, here we have been trying to rest, for some little time, but we run about too much to accomplish a great deal in that line.

I would like to remain here.  I had rather not go any further.  There may be prettier women in Europe, but I doubt it.  The population of Genoa is 120,000; two-thirds of these are women, I think, and at least two-thirds of the women are beautiful.  They are as dressy and as tasteful and as graceful as they could possibly be without being angels.  However, angels are not very dressy, I believe.  At least the angels in pictures are not —­they wear nothing but wings.  But these Genoese women do look so charming.  Most of the young demoiselles are robed in a cloud of white from head to foot, though many trick themselves out more elaborately.  Nine-tenths of them wear nothing on their heads but a filmy sort of veil, which falls down their backs like a white mist.  They are very fair, and many of them have blue eyes, but black and dreamy dark brown ones are met with oftenest.

The ladies and gentlemen of Genoa have a pleasant fashion of promenading in a large park on the top of a hill in the center of the city, from six till nine in the evening, and then eating ices in a neighboring garden an hour or two longer.  We went to the park on Sunday evening.  Two thousand persons were present, chiefly young ladies and gentlemen.  The gentlemen were dressed in the very latest Paris fashions, and the robes of the ladies glinted among the trees like so many snowflakes.  The multitude moved round and round the park in a great procession.  The bands played, and so did the fountains; the moon and the gas lamps lit up the scene, and altogether it was a brilliant and an animated picture.  I scanned every female face that passed, and it seemed to me that all were handsome.  I never saw such a freshet of loveliness before.  I did not see how a man of only ordinary decision of character could marry here, because before he could get his mind made up he would fall in love with somebody else.