Belknap and J. fought hard for the life of every tree that did not actually interfere with the construction of the buildings. Some of the streets have long lines of lemon trees, with here and there a fig tree. They saved a double row of shade trees, for which the guests at Hotel Regina Elena will some day bless them. As we were inspecting the site of the hotel, the heavens opened and the flood descended. We hurried to the office for shelter and admired the trim row of ledgers, the typewriter, the letter scales, the red, white and blue silk cord that Uncle Sam makes for his own special service, all the tidy paraphernalia of the Chief’s workroom. I peeped into the drafting-room, partitioned off with a wooden screen from the office. It looked nice and professional, with sheets of architect’s paper, opaque white, semi-transparent blue, yellow tracing, compasses, T squares, all sorts of fascinating architectural tools. On the wall hung the neatly drawn plans of the hotel; on the drawing-board was the ground plan for the Queen’s hospital at Villaggio Regina Elena. “May we look?” Patsy asked. “If you will not touch,” J. glanced up from his work. “Mind that India ink!” “I can’t let you go on to Taormina in such a tempest,” said Captain Belknap. “If you will put up with what we can offer, I should be glad to have you spend the night at the camp.” This was more than we had dared hope for; Patsy was in the seventh heaven. “It’s a reward for bringing down the new recruit,” he whispered. Brush, the “new recruit,” was sent almost immediately to Reggio, where Wilcox found him an invaluable assistant. I was shown to my quarters--the room that had been Mr. Bicknell’s--in a small frame house, sixteen by sixteen. It was divided into two rooms by a wooden partition with a door; there was a well fitted window with a sash curtain in each room. Behind the house was the famous kitchen, of which we had heard so much. It is a tiny convenient place with a cement floor and walls, a stone table with little holes for the live charcoal, and grates to go over the fire. My room had a table, chair, washstand with jug, basin and pail. Gasperone brought me hot water and took my boots and dress to brush. In the corner of the room was a most ingenious and convenient bed. Some springy boards were nailed rather loosely to an upright head and footpiece; the boards were almost as good as a spring, the mattress and pillow of sea-moss were comfortable enough for anybody, not born in Sybaris. I sat down and looked out of the window towards the tool house, the center of interest for the moment. The men had knocked off work, and were passing in file, very slowly, before the open window, where the paymaster sat, paying each man what was due him. [Illustration: AMERICAN VILLAGE, MESSINA. THE PAY LINE. _Page 286._] [Illustration: “THE FRONT OF THE PALACE HAD FALLEN INTO A HEAP OF RUINS.” _Page 305._] [Illustration: SEMINARA. CHURCH OF OUR LADY OF THE POOR.]