“He would never let her go from his side till she went to a husband’s,” continued Jackeymo. “But this climate—she could never stand it,” said Riccabocca, drawing his cloak round him, as a north wind took him in the rear. “The orange trees blossom even here with care,” said Jackeymo, turning back to draw down an awning where the orange trees faced the north. “See!” he added, as he returned with a sprig in full bud. Dr. Riccabocca bent over the blossom, and then placed it in his bosom. “The _other_ one should be there, too,” said Jackeymo. “To die—as this does already!” answered Riccabocca. “Say no more.” Jackeymo shrugged his shoulders; and then, glancing at his master, drew his hand over his eyes. There was a pause. Jackeymo was the first to break it. “But, whether here or there, beauty without money is the orange tree without shelter. If a lad could be got cheap, I would hire the land, and trust for the crop to the Madonna.” “I think I know of such a lad,” said Riccabocca, recovering himself, and with his sardonic smile once more lurking about the corner of his mouth—“a lad made for us!” “Diavolo!” “No, not the Diavolo! Friend, I have this day seen a boy who—refused sixpence!” “_Cosa stupenda!_”—(Stupendous thing!) exclaimed Jackeymo, opening his eyes, and letting fall the water-pot. “It is true, my friend.” “Take him, Padrone, in Heaven’s name, and the fields will grow gold.” “I will think of it, for it must require management to catch such a boy,” said Riccabocca. “Meanwhile, light a candle in the parlor, and bring from my bedroom—that great folio of Machiavelli.” THE TWO GUIDES OF THE CHILD. (FROM DICKENS’S HOUSEHOLD WORDS.) A spirit near me said, “Look forth upon the Land of Life. What do you see?” “Steep mountains, covered by a mighty plain, a table-land of many-colored beauty. Beauty, nay, it seems all beautiful at first, but now I see that there are some parts barren.” “Are they quite barren?—look more closely still!” “No, in the wildest deserts, now, I see some gum-dropping acacias, and the crimson blossom of the cactus. But there are regions that rejoice abundantly in flower and fruit; and now, O Spirit, I see men and women moving to and fro.” “Observe them, mortal.” “I behold a world of love; the men have women’s arms entwined about them; some upon the verge of precipices—friends are running to the rescue. There are many wandering like strangers, who know not their road, and they look upward. Spirit, how many, many eyes are looking up as if to God! Ah, now I see some strike their neighbors down into the dust; I see some wallowing like swine; I see that there are men and women brutal.” “Are they quite brutal—look more closely still.”