 | An image should appear at this position in the text. To use the entire page scan as a placeholder, edit this page and replace "{{missing image}}" with "{{raw image|Harper's New Monthly Magazine - v109.djvu/459}}". Otherwise, if you are able to provide the image then please do so. For guidance, see Wikisource:Image guidelines and Help:Adding images. |  |
The Mushrooms proved to be immense Umbrellas
companion. The latter had done nothing whatever to merit such language, but wherever we went in Brescia the cats eyed him with strong disapproval. In the case of the cathedral cat this may have been due to the man's dislike of churches, but as the average cat is notoriously an agnostic, this would not explain the conduct of the other cats.
After we had glanced through the cathedral, and had emerged into the street once more, my acquaintance said:
"If you're going into any more churches, you must excuse me. I'll sit in the carriage till you come out again, but I don't want any more churches in mine. When we landed in Genoa, my friend made me go and see every church in the place. I don't believe there was a Catholic, or a Baptist, or a Presbyterian, or a Methodist, or a Mormon church in Genoa that he didn't drag me into. After that I struck, and this is the first church I've been inside of since I left Genoa. These Italian churches don't deserve the name. They are nothing but big, cold barns. Every one I've seen yet has been lit with candles, and nothing else. No lamps, no gas, no electric lights! Why, you couldn't get one of our Cyrusville preachers to preach in them, no matter what salary you might offer him."
I went into every church in Brescia that the guide-book told me I ought to visit, and I had so little time to give to each one that I felt that I was even as the traditional American who saw Rome in twenty-four hours. My companion sat in the carriage while I was in the churches, and I am afraid that there was something in his manner that failed to please the human as well as the cat population of Brescia, for twice I rejoined the carriage just in time to prevent him from using strong measures with certain men and boys, who approached too closely to the carriage in order to stare at him.
The municipal palace is a picturesque specimen of medieval architecture, and although the American compared it most unfavorably with the city hall of Cyrusville, Minnesota, he could not spoil it for me. Also the ancient Roman temple, which has been transformed into a mu-
