[Illustration: A Trying Moment.]
"He can't help it," said Dick. "These Continental languages are all alike; know one, and you've got the key to the others--that is with French, Italian, Spanish, and Portuguese."
"And look at him now!" cried the Senator, his eye beaming with cordial admiration.
"You may well look at him!" sighed Dick. "Two such pretty girls as these won't turn up again in a hurry. Spaniards too; I always admired them." And he walked down to the shore humming to himself something about "the girls of Cadiz."
The ladies informed Buttons that they were travelling with their brother, and had been through Russia, Germany, England, France, and were now traversing Italy; did not like the three first-mentioned countries, but were charmed with Italy.
Their _naïveté_ was delightful. Buttons found out that the name of one was Lucia, and the other Ida. For the life of him he did not know which he admired most; but, on the whole, rather inclined to the one to whom he had offered the light--Ida.
He was equally frank, and let them know his name, his country, his Creed. They were shocked at his creed, pleased with his country and amused at his name, which they pronounced, "Señor Bo-to-nes."
After about an hour their brother came. He was a small man, very active, and full of vivacity. Instead of looking fiercely at the stranger, he shook hands with him very cordially. Before doing this, however, he took one short, quick survey of his entire person, from felt hat down to his Congress boots. The consequence was that Buttons deserted his companions, and went off with the ladies.
Dick took the lead of the party on the return home. They viewed the conduct of Buttons with displeasure. The Senator did not show his usual serenity. The party were all riding on donkeys. To do this on the minute animals which the Neapolitans furnish it is necessary to seat one's self on the stern of the animal, and draw the legs well up, so that they may not trail on the ground. The appearance of the rider from behind is that of a Satyr dressed in the fashion of the nineteenth century. Nothing can be more ridiculous than the sight of a figure dressed in a frock-coat and beaver hat, and terminated by the legs and tail of a donkey.
As it was getting late the party harried. The donkeys were put on the full gallop. First rode the guide, then the others, last of whom was the Senator, whose great weight was a sore trial to the little donkey.