I asked him if he had a father or a mother, but he shook his head.

"Oimè, Signora!—io son padre di famiglia," he said, with a merry laugh, and he pointed again to the black-eyed urchins.

We joined in his laugh; his face and his tiny outstretched hand were irresistible. He shouted for joy when we dropped a coin into it; after this, at the end of every turning we passed, there was our bright-eyed, dirty little beggar, with outstretched brown hand and the sauciest of smiles. When we shook our heads at him he capered away, the soles of his slender brown feet almost as high as his head.

The little church of San Nicola is hidden away among the houses, with a quaint little grassed cloister court in front of it, and a row of ancient cypresses. On one side is a little cloister walk; a vine-covered pergola supported itself by filling up the small space inclosed. In the church is an altar picture, painted on both sides, this is said to be one of the last works of Luca Signorelli. The fresco, said also to be his, has been much restored. This little church belonged to a confraternity, and the seats still remain along the sides of the front court in which the Brethren have sat in council, or from which they have enjoyed the view over the wall that borders this quiet cloister.

As we drove rapidly downhill to the station, we looked at the country through a silver veil, for the olive-trees are larger here than at Perugia, and they literally cover the first part of the steep descent,—so steep that the road has to descend by terraces zig-zagged along the side of the hill.

We had told our red-haired, blue-eyed driver to take us to the Etruscan grotto, and he presently stopped at a rough break, with large stones placed so as to form irregular steps.

The man was in fear lest the horse should run away, and was greatly excited. He went on chattering patois to that effect; but though I told him I was quite able to climb up by myself, he would stand at the top of the steps hauling me up with one hand and flourishing his whip with the other, as if he were performing a circus feat.

We left him there, and presently entered a solemn grassed avenue of gigantic cypresses, their pale grey stems gleaming in the sunlight. This avenue slopes upward, and at the end the ruined grotto shows between the lines of tall dark trees; it is very curious, circular in form, with neatly finished compartments in it for the urns. These have all been taken away; only part of the circular top of the sepulchre remains, lying near the ruined stone; but even in its fractured state it is very impressive; alone on the hillside, screened from the immense prospect before it by a surrounding of olive-trees. As we drove down to the railway, far below us, it seemed to us it had been quite worth while to stay at Cortona for the sake of this wonderful drive down the steep hillside; but the town is probably safer from damp in August than we found it in October.

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