This CHI LO SA, or, 'who knows?' of the Romans, is a shaft that would kill Paul Pry. It nearly throws an inquisitive man into convulsions. He meets it at every turn. The simplest question is knocked to pieces by it. So common is it for a Roman of the true _plebs_ breed to give you this for an answer to almost every question, that Rocjean once won a hat from Caper in this wise: they stood one evening in front of a grocer's store, down by the Pantheon; it was brilliantly illuminated with hundreds of candles, displaying piles of hams, cheese, butter, eggs, etc., etc. Chandeliers constructed of egg-shells, where candles shone brightly, particularly struck Caper. 'You see,' said Rocjean, 'as anyone else can see, that those chandeliers are made of egg-shells. Now, I will bet you a hat that I will ask four men, one after another, who may come to look in this window, what those chandeliers are made of, and three at least, if not all four of them, will answer, 'Who knows?' (_Chi lo sa._) 'Done!' said Caper. Rocjean asked four men, one after another. All four answered; 'Who knows?' But to continue the bath-hunt: Van Brick was thrown over by the girl's answer, and next asked an old woman, who was standing at the door of a house, buying broccoli from a man with a hand-cart. 'Can _you_ tell me where the bath is?' 'The bath?' 'Yes, the bath.' 'Is it where they boil water for the English?' 'That must be the shop,' quoth Brick. 'That's the place,' pointing with her finger to a house on the opposite side of the way. Van Brick crossed over, and after five minutes' hunt over the whole house, was coming down disheartened, when he saw a pretty girl, about eighteen years old, standing by the doorway. 'Can you tell me where the bath is?' '_Seguro!_ I attend to them. You can't have a warm bath for two or three hours yet, for there is no fire; but you can have a cold one.' 'Well, let me have it as quickly as possible.' 'Yes, sir. We have no soap for sale, but you can get it two doors off.' Van Brick went out, and after a time returned with a cake of soap. 'Signore,' said the girl, when he went back, 'the water is all running out of the hole in the bottom of the tub, and I can't stop it.' 'H'm! Show me the tub; I am a splendid mechanic.' The hole being stopped, the tub was rapidly filling with water. Van Brick, in anticipation, was enjoying his bath; when in rushed the attendant. 'Signore, you will have to wait a few minutes--until I wash some towels.' Van Brick was in extremis. Taking a gold scudo, one of those dear little one-dollar pieces the Romans call _far-falle_ (butterflies) from his pocket, he thus addressed her: 'Maiden, rush round the corner and buy me a yard of any thing that will dry me; I don't care what it is, except salt fish.'