"You're real good!" Romulus cried. "Poor little Narcissa! It does seem as if she had found all her friends at once, and she never having any in her life before, as you may say. I tell you, Mis' Transom, I'll treat her as well as I know how. If she was a queen, she shouldn't have any more care than what I'll give her. I--I think a sight of her!" he added simply. "Seems as if she always belonged to me, somehow." "That's right!" said Mrs. Transom, who was as romantic as any lady in silk and satin. "That's right, young man. We'll get her away from this old rathole, and then I guess it'll be a good while before either you or I travels this way again, hey?" "I don't know as I have anything to say against the country," said Romulus Patten, with another loving look at the sleeper. "It isn't exactly the place to sell trees, but yet there's good things to be found on this road,--the road to Rome." IN VERONA. IN VERONA. First of all, let me correct the mistaken impression that my title cannot fail to make upon the patient reader. On reading the words, "In Verona," his mind instantly conjures up a vision of white palaces; of narrow streets across which the tall houses nod at each other, hinting at the mysteries they dare not reveal; of ancient fountains, embowered in myrtle and laurel; finally, of Juliet's tomb, and a thousand memories of the immortal lovers. All this is natural, but it will not do. Here in Verona are no fountains, but half a dozen old well-sweeps, and all the rest cucumber-wood pumps; no palaces, but neat white houses with green blinds, and flowers in their front-yards; no laurel, but good honest sunflowers instead; finally, no tomb of Juliet, for our Juliet did not die; briefly, and to have done with mystery, our Verona is in the State of Maine. I have often wondered what manner of men they were, who named the towns in the good old State. Lyceum teachers for the most part, one would think,--men who had read books, and whose hearts yearned for the historic glories of the old world, glories which their narrow lives might never see. So, disagreeing with this same Juliet in the matter of names, they did what they could, and not being able to go to Europe, did their best to bring Europe over into their own new country. So we have here in Maine Rome and Paris, Palermo and Vi-enny (miscalled "Vienna" by pedants, and those thinking themselves better than other people), Berlin Falls and South China,--in fact, half the continent to choose from, all in our own door-yard, as it were.