ideas of Italian beauty and refinement, compared with the fine specimens of men and women you may have seen among the Italian opera singers at home: well, these same singers are picked specimens, and are chosen for their height and muscular development from the whole nation, so that strangers may think all the rest at home are like them: it is a little piece of deception we can pardon.' After this long prelude, Rocjean proposed that they should try a game of billiards in the Cafe Nuovo. After they had played a game or two, and drank several _mezzo caldos_, or rum punches, they walked up the Corso to the Via San Claudio, No. 48, and entered the palace gate. It was very dark after they entered, so Rocjean, telling them to wait one moment, lit a _cerina_, or piece of waxed cord, an article indispensable to a Roman, and, crossing the broad courtyard, they entered a small door, and after climbing and twisting and turning, found a ticket-taker, and the next minute were in the ball-room. Uncle Bill was delighted with the excessively free-and-easy ball of Prince Giacinti, but was very anxious to know the names of the nobility, and Rocjean politely undertook to point out the celebrities, offering kindly to introduce him to any one he might think looked sympathetic; 'what they call _simpatico_ in Italian,' explained Rocjean. 'That pretty girl in _Ciociara_ costume is the Condessa or Countess Stella di Napoli.' 'Introduce me,' said Uncle Bill. Rocjean went through the performance, concluding thus: 'The countess expresses a wish that you should order a _bottiglia_ (about two bottles) of red wine.' 'Go ahead,' quoth Uncle Bill; 'for a nobility ball this comes as near a dance-house affair as I ever want to approach. By the way, who is that pickpocket-looking genius with eyes like a black snake?' 'Who is _that_?' said Rocjean, theatrically. 'Chut! a word in your ear; that is An-to-nel-li!' 'The devil! But I heard some one only a few minutes ago call him Angelucio.' 'That was done satirically, for it means big angel, which you, who read the papers, know that Antonelli is _not_. But here comes the wine, and I see the countess looks dry. Pour out a half-dozen glasses for her. The Roman women, high and low, paddle in wine like ducks, and it never upsets them; for, like ducks, their feet are so large that neither you nor wine can throw them. I wish you could speak Italian, for here comes the Princess Giacinta _con Marchese_--' 'I wish,' said Uncle Bill, 'you would talk English.' 'Well,' continued Rocjean, 'with the Marchioness Nina Romana, if you like that better. Shall I introduce you?' 'Certainly,' replied the old gentleman, 'and order two more what d'ye call 'ems. It's cheap--this knowing a princess for a quart of red teaberry tooth-wash, for that's what this "wine" amounts to. I am going to dance to-night, for the Princess Giacinta is a complete woman after my heart, and weighs her two hundred pound any day.'