The morning and forenoon, we devote to reading and writing, each one in their own room, but little Elsa has besides, a lesson in Italian from her great friend. Towards noon, bathing takes place, the enchanting, refreshing sport with the waves on the soft sandy floor, in the shelter of the bath-pavilion; after that, rest and far niente till dinner. In the afternoon, we take a drive, or a sail, or a walk, as the case may be. The shores are affluent in beauty, and incomparably lovely is the drive to the heights of Castel-a-Mare. Our rambles on foot, are not unfrequently seasoned with good, open-hearted, and cheerful conversation amongst us three. Then comes the evening with its tea, reading, and conversation, or, it may be, a folks-festival. We seldom retire before midnight.
Of folks-festivals, with processions, illuminations, and fireworks, always the same, now in honor of one saint, now of another, and frequently of the Madonna, we have generally two every week. The brilliant parts of the festival, are often very brilliant and tasteful; but the horrible explosions of powder-men, which are set up, like a kind of mustard-pot, in rings and rows on the square, which tumble about everywhere, after they have exploded; the smoke which they occasion, and the incessant jingling of bells, disturb our hearing, our eye-sight and all our other senses. How far they may gratify the saint seems to me doubtful. The people of Sorrento look on for a moment and then go home. One can see that they are used to and tired of such spectacles.
August 10th.—Have you read the charming romantic story, “Midsummer Eve,” a fairy tale, in which Mrs. S. C. Hall, has worked up in her ingenious manner, the
