TPES EAS SiN Ge OS a Bibi ses ire i

ie a very early hour one September morning in Florence, I was aroused to
semi-consciousness by a most unusual noise, and, as I lay half-asleep, I felt
as though I ought to arise and investigate the cause of it. A sudden horror
came over me that something was wrong with the steam pipes, but quickly
followed the remembrance that I was in Italy, where we have no such dis-
turbers of the domestic peace. Still the strange noise beat upon my ears, and

finally sounded like the tinkling of many small bells in the dim distance.
I was just settling myself for one more nap, feeling sure that the strange