There were one or two other things in that book, of which, while I am about it, I should like to deliver my mind. A certain man who wrote a bold round hand signed his name “Tom Taylor”—doubtless not the late well-known art critic and dramatic writer, but some other person of the same name—in the visitors’ book of the Hotel Leone d’Oro at Orta, and added the word “disgusted.” I saw this entry, then comparatively recent, in 1871, and on going on to the Hotel d’Italia at Varallo, found it repeated—“Tom Taylor disgusted.” The entries in each case were probably aimed at the Sacro Monte, and not at the inn; but they grated on me, as they must have done on many other English visitors; and I saw with pleasure that some one had written against the second of them the following epigram, which is too neat not to be preserved. It ran:— “Oh wretched Tom Taylor, disgusted at Orta, At Varallo we find him disgusted again; The feeling’s contagious, I really have caught a Disgust for Tom Taylor—he travels in vain.” Who, I wonder, was it who could fling off such an apt impromptu, and how many more mute inglorious writers have we not who might do anything they chose if they would only choose to do anything at all? Some one else had written on an earlier page;— 1. “While you’ve that which makes the mare go You should stay at this albergo, Bona in esse and in posse Are dispensed by Joseph Rossi. 2. “Ask him and he’ll set before ye Vino birra e liquori, Asti, Grignolino, Sherry Prezzi moderati—very.” There was more, but I have forgotten it. Joseph Rossi was a famous old waiter long since retired, something like Pietro at the Hotel Rosa Rossa at Casale, whom all that country side knew perfectly well. This last entry reminds me of a somewhat similar one which I saw some five and thirty years ago at the inn at Harlech;— 1. Τῇδε πᾶν ἄριστον ἔστι Δεῖπνον οἶνοω και γάλ’ ἤδν. By this ’ere I mean to testi- fy how very well they feed you. 2. “Quam superba sit ruina, Ipsa sua semper laus, And the castle—nothing finer, With its ivy and jackdaws.” It is a pity the art of writing such pleasing little poems should be now so generally neglected in favour of more ambitious compositions. Whatever brevity may be as regards wit it is certainly the soul of all agreeable poetry.