“The hospital at Regina Elena and all the houses are nearly finished. Here the hotel will be finished as far as we are concerned in a few days, and the church and schools. There are no more houses being put up just now. I wish I could tell you how many houses are inhabited--a great many I know. The workshop opposite the camp that you remember, disappeared long ago and cottages are standing on the site, so we are all shut in and living in a common street called Via Bicknell. There is to be a street named for me which I share with the captain. The captain does things his own way and he says the plan (which I have drawn with all these names) is the record of the thing that will be sent to Washington, but even there it will be looked at once and then thrown aside.” _Extract from Captain Belknap’s Journal, and Letters to the American Ambassador_ “With a large increase of the force, and at the same time of the work, especially as the hotel began to assume considerable proportions, this tallying of the workmen took more of the head carpenter’s time than could be spared. Opportunely, Mr. J. Lloyd Derby, Harvard ’08, who had been one of Mr. Roosevelt’s guests in the party visiting Messina, had accepted the invitation to join us. He had first gone back to Rome, with the two chums with whom he had made a trip around the world, and I had almost given him up, when he telegraphed that he was coming and, evidently recalling our previous shift to find accommodation for our guests, should he bring bedding? I replied no, but asked him to call at the Embassy and at the ‘Scorpion’ at Naples, to bring anything they might have to send. The Embassy entrusted him with some cigars and champagne, which was all right; but the ‘Scorpion’ produced fifty thousand _lire_, which was startling. However, another means of sending the money appeared, and Derby arrived with his other charge safe. He stepped right in as Buchanan’s assistant, taking over Mr. Phillips’ work of tallying the men, and shortly after, as he found time for more, he was made the inspector of kitchens. The shop made him a measuring, or ‘divining’ rod, and he fared forth among the masons, who soon found out that poor workmanship was no match for his muscle. “We were fortunate in gaining accessions to our managing staff just when it would seem impossible to carry it on longer without more help. The first one was Mr. Gerome Brush, son of the painter, whom we sent to Reggio just as Wilcox was finding more than he could attend to unaided. As interpreter, accountant, [Illustration: SCYLLA. _Page 463._]