We were all delighted with the Baths at Lucca, and the picturesque environs. The surrounding hills were covered with Spanish chestnut trees, which retained their fresh spring green during the whole of the summer, and the cool, refreshing river Lima, which runs through the valley, tempered and mitigated the heat of those months, that to some of our compatriots appeared excessive. My brother and I hired ponies, and in the company of two Englishmen, his friends, we rode every day, making excursions into all the beautiful little towns which crowned the neighbouring mountains, a pleasure which was heightened by the fact that our dear mother was sometimes able to join us in these pilgrimages, being carried in a chair by the sure-footed peasants of the country, who made no difficulty in ascending the hill-sides, however steep. As the spring came on, the wild-flowers were a constant source of delight to us, although our botany was of no scientific nature. There is a thistle there which grew by the roadside and in the fields, that I have never seen elsewhere, though perhaps I prove my ignorance in thinking it to be a rare specimen; in shape it resembles a small sunflower, but the centre is violet, and the small and numerous petals shine like mother-of-pearl or glistening opal. I was very fond of wearing it in my hair, in those days when it was the fashion to dress the head with natural flowers, in a country where even men, especially fishermen, were frequently seen with a rose, a carnation, or some sweet flower fixed behind one ear. One day as we were riding along, about five miles from the Baths, my brother and I were surprised at being accosted by a peasant in very good English. We slackened our pace and entered into conversation with him, enquiring how it was that he spoke our language so well. He told us that he had been many years in England, carrying about a tray of plaster-casts on his head through the streets. This is a custom which has become less frequent, but when I was a child, nothing tempted my scanty store of pocket-money more than one of what I called those “white images,” and I well remember the delight I felt in the possession of a young Apollo. When I saw the original in after years I hailed it as an old acquaintance. The man told us that most of the people in that line of trade came from the village through which we were at that moment riding, and that those who were successful in their business usually returned to end their days, small blame to them, in their beautiful country. [Sidenote: THE BODDINGTONS]