''What, to ME! ME! _I_?' both hands pointing toward his own body, as if to be sure of the identity of the person; and that there might not be the possibility of any mistake, he again shouts, screams, yells, shrieks: 'To me? What, that to ME! to ME!' hands and arms working like a crab's. 'Then the entire population rush, in with, 'Bravo, Johnny, bravo!' At last, after they have screamed themselves black in the face, and swung their arms and legs until they are ready to drop off, both combatants coolly walk off; and a couple of fresh hands rush in, assisted by the splendid Roman chorus, and begin: ''What, ME? ME?' &c. 'But the battle of the lizards was conducted with more spirit than the general run of quarrels, for the people were fighting for remission of their sins as it were--the possession of every sanctified red-headed lizard being so much money saved from the church, so many years out of purgatory. 'The _gendarmerie_ heard the row, and at once rushed down--four soldiers comprised the garrison--to dissipate the crowd: this they managed to do in a peaceable way. There happened to be a heretical spur in the town, in the shape of three German artists, and this incited the bishop of the province, who was at once informed of the miracle-working doings of Father Ciprian, to displace him. 'Thus, my dear friend, I was left to make love to the girls until I had to return to Rome--unfortunately only two weeks' time--for the newly-appointed priest had not the opportunity to set them against me. 'The moral of this long story is: that even vermilion can be worked up in a miraculous manner--if you put the powerful reflective faculty in motion; and doing so, you can have the satisfaction of knowing that by its means you can cause an invisible sign to be stuck up over even a country town in Italy: '_All Persons are Forbidden to Work Miracles Here!_'' THE POPOLO EXHIBITION. The government, aware of its foreign reputation for patronizing the _Belle Arti_, has an annual display of such paintings and sculpture as artists may see fit to send, and--the censor see fit to admit: for, in _this_ exhibition, 'nothing is shown that will shock the most fastidious taste'--and it can be found thus, in a building in the Piazza del Popolo. Caper's painting for the display was rejected for some reason. It represented a sinister-looking brigand, stealing away with Two Keys in one hand and a spilt cap in the other, suddenly kicked over by a large-sized donkey, his mane and tail flying, head up, and an air of liberty about him generally, which probably shocked Antonelli's tool the censor's sense of the proprieties.