the very same road that we have to go; so that we can always have help enough.

If we come out, at last, to an open plain beyond, that will all be right, smooth, and well; but, if not,

"He that keepeth Israel neither slumbers nor sleeps;

and He will still guide and watch over his children, until they come to a haven of "perfect rest" and "peace."

CHAPTER XXVI.

CONCLUSION.

OUR little stories are properly ended; but those who have followed them thus far will perhaps not regret still a few "last words."

After two years' absence, the family returned to their far home in Italy; and the following extracts, recalling old scenes, are from a letter which Nannine wrote to her former teacher: “ Things

6

are very little changed: the old house is just as it used to be; our old room and mamma's; nothing has been touched. Your room is still The Schoolroom.' Josef and Theresa, you know, kept the house while we were away; and where do you think Theresa found the blue mosaic breastpin?

* A pin which was found to be missing on our arrival in America.

365

Way down behind your bureau! Oh! I have got my fingers already inked: you see I was not meant for a letter-writing genius, nor, indeed, for any genius at all.

to

:

"The other day I found my old drawing-book, in which you set me copies with such patience. Gianina is going through with the same book now she is getting on finely, and has decided be an eminent landscape-painter, and to knit an Afghan blanket; both of which things I consider exceedingly improbable! However, it is unfair to judge her. As for Memie, she has begun the Italian Ollendorf, music, and drawing: she has already drawn the set of Coe's drawing-cards.

"Do you remember Mr. Brown,* the artist? We went to his studio the other day, and he showed us some exquisite landscapes. He had a great many. There were two large ones for mates: one was the Campagna; and the other, part of the country between Aricia and Gensano. There was a low stone fence bordering the road, and magni

*Mr. J. G. Brown, one of our first American landscape-painters.

On the fence sat a

ficent trees overhanging it. group of contadine,* one of them with a spindle in her hand farther on in the shade, a shepherd sits at the bottom of a tree, and his sheep are around him. Through the trees are seen some houses in the distance. I wish you could see it. There is also a moonlight scene, which is lovely. He showed us a great many exquisite drawings of his.

66 E

is at present wild about natural

history: he has two trays of pinned-up butterflies, and a microscope some one has given him. Moro + is so immense, I can scarcely lift him. We are all well and happy: I hope you are so too.

66

Good-by, dear Toity! From your loving

"NANNINE."

It will be seen from the above that the little sister Memie, at her early years, and in the long absence, had forgotten her native Italian, and was recommencing it. The "trays of pinned-up but

*Peasant-women.

† See" Child-life in Italy."

terflies" probably reminded Nannine of the time when she, with a young friend, ran about the garden, helping him to catch butterflies for the same purpose. The little boy then occupied in the pursuit was the son of a German professor who often came to the house.

Moro, the large cat, it seems, still kept possession of the place, and was larger than ever.