Our allotted "four hours" for Prato have come to an end, leaving many beautiful things unseen; the pleasant cloisters of San Francesco, the perfect Renaissance church of Santa Maria delle Carceri, and many others, must be left to that indefinite "next time." We hasten to the train, stopping only a moment at the shrine on the corner of Via S. Margherita, which contains Filippino Lippi's Madonna, where we murmur our thanks for a happy visit and make solemn vows to come soon again. [Illustration: STEMMA, PRATO] [Illustration: _Alinari_ _A. della Robbia_ DETAIL OF FRIEZE S. MARIA DELLE CARCERI, PRATO] FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 1: E. Armstrong, M.A., _Lorenzo de' Medici_, p. 437. B. Berenson, _The Study and Criticism of Italian Art_. Second series. "A Word for Renaissance Churches."] [Footnote 2: The quarries of serpentine (verde di Prato) near Prato have been worked from a very early period. Their present output is valued at £1,000 per annum.--From _The British Diplomatic and Consular Report_, No. 570, 1901.] CHIANTI AND THE IMPRUNETA [Illustration] CHIANTI AND THE IMPRUNETA [Illustration] We made our first home in Florence with our good friend Signora V---- and her daughter. Our rooms were on the second _piano_, which meant three flights of uncompromising stone stairs, but once at the top our windows overlooked the piazza on one side, a pretty garden on the other, and gave us plenty of sunshine; moreover, we had a loggia, a very different matter from a balcony or gallery both in name and character, and from which we got charming views of the distant hills. Within was every creature comfort--not luxury, perhaps, but cleanliness, order, refinement, and an excellent table with two servants, merry-faced Dina and kindly Annunziatina, to serve and pet us, to identify our wants and interests as their most pleasurable duty, and teach us to say that Tuscan cookery and Tuscan servants, at their best, cannot be equaled the world over. The relation between the Italian family and servants is in many cases almost ideal: there is complete understanding and freedom of speech; the mistress talks and consults with the maid, and she, in turn, depends on her mistress as on a mother, and yet neither forgets her place or dignity. As for food, where will one find such sweet, tender vegetables, such crisp salads, and macaroni served in a dozen different ways, each better than the other? For the first month every dish brought to the table was a mystery and delightful surprise. How could one have lived half a century and never known _fritto misto_, or the changes that may be rung on rice or corn meal? What a far different object the _pomidoro_ is in Tuscany from the tomato of commerce in Boston! Then, who ever can measure the capacities of chestnuts? As for meats, if variety is limited, certainly the methods of cooking are legion, and one never seems cloyed with the Tuscan chicken; oil and cheese are delicious.