Imagine that I have told you these stories sitting under the vine and fig-tree of some _villetta_, while Angiolina has gone to call the _padrone_, who will only be too glad to see you. But, _ecco!_ at last our _padrone_ comes. No, it is not the _padrone_, it is the _vignarualo_, who takes care of his grapes and garden, and who recognizes us as friends of the _padrone_, and tells us that we are ourselves _padroni_ of the whole place, and offers us all sorts of fruits. One old custom, which existed in Rome some fifteen years ago, has now passed away with other good old things. It was the celebration of the _Fravolata_ or Strawberry-Feast, when men in gala-dress at the height of the strawberry-season went in procession through the streets, carrying on their heads enormous wooden platters heaped with this delicious fruit, accompanied by girls in costume, who, beating their _tamburelli_, danced along at their sides and sung the praises of the strawberry. After threading the streets of the city, they passed singing out of the gates, and at different places on the Campagna spent the day in festive sports and had an out-door dinner and dance. One of these festivals still exists, however, in the picturesque town of Genzano, which lies above the old crater now filled with the still waters of Lake Nemi, and is called the _Infiorata di Genzano_, "The Flower-Festival of Genzano." It takes place on the eighth day of the Corpus Domini, and receives its name from the popular custom of spreading flowers upon the pavements of the streets so as to represent heraldic devices, figures, arabesques, and all sorts of ornamental designs. The people are all dressed in their effective costumes,--the girls in _busti_ and silken skirts, with all their corals and jewels on, and the men with white stockings on their legs, their velvet jackets dropping over one shoulder, and flowers and rosettes in their conical hats. The town is then very gay, the bells clang, the incense steams from the censer in the church, where the organ peals and mass is said, and a brilliant procession marches over the strewn flower-mosaic, with music and crucifixes and Church-banners. Hundreds of strangers, too, are there to look on; and on the Cesarini Piazza and under the shadow of the long avenues of ilexes that lead to the tower are hundreds of handsome girls, with their snowy _tovaglie_ peaked over their heads. The rub and thrum of _tamburelli_ and the clicking of castanets are heard, too, as twilight comes on, and the _salterello_ is danced by many a group. This is the national Roman dance, and is named from the little jumping step which characterizes it. Any number of couples dance it, though the dance is perfect with two. Some of the movements are very graceful and piquant, and particularly that where one of the dancers kneels and whirls her arms on high, clicking her castanets, while the other circles her round and round, striking his