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 com-
fortable 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 fam-
ily 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 ran 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.

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