Observing English newspapers on a table in the house, a talk ensued about the irregularities of the French postal system. On settling here, the _Times_ was ordered from London _viâ_ Mentone, but so frequently was it late in arriving, that at length the expedient was tried of procuring it by way of Turin and Genoa (some hundreds of miles about), and ever since it had arrived with regularity and despatch. I am glad to have at least one good thing to say of Italian administration, and were the circumstance properly known, it might shame the French into an improved system of forwarding English newspapers to strangers residing in their country. In the pleasant society at Orengo, a few hours sped quickly away. On our departure, after being hospitably entertained, a school of little girls, under charge of their mistress, stood awaiting us on the road. It was an agreeable surprise. At a signal, before entering our carriage, which had been in attendance at the village, they united in singing a hymn expressive of good wishes. Having concluded, they individually presented us with bouquets of sweet-scented violets, and kindly courtesied an adieu. CHAPTER VIII. There is one other excursion which ought not to be omitted. It is to Cap Martin, and will be comprehended in a forenoon walk. What, I think, may particularly interest strangers, is a sight of the largest and finest olive trees in the whole Riviera, and also some curious Roman remains, of which no one can give any perfectly satisfactory explanation. A few days before my departure from Mentone, I made this excursion. Fortunately, I was not alone in the journey. I was favoured with the escort of Mr M. Moggridge, an English gentleman of nearly my own age, who has resided a number of winters in Mentone with several members of his family. Uniting a singular saliency of disposition with scientific tastes, and happily possessing a wiry frame, which seems to defy fatigue and exposure, he has been able to undertake journeys over a lengthened tract of the Riviera, from the sea-shore to the tops of the highest mountains. In 1862, he occupied himself in exploring the caves in the limestone rocks on the shore near Pont St Louis, already noticed, bringing to light bones, pieces of charcoal, and flint instruments, which are the puzzle of historians. In the midsummer of 1868, he made an expedition to the mountainous region of the Laghi delle Meraviglie, thirty-two miles north of Mentone, and there, at the height of 7825 feet above the level of the sea, copied certain hieroglyphic inscriptions on rocks, which bear some remote resemblance to those remarkable stone carvings in Scotland which have engaged the inquiry of antiquaries. Ever on the alert, chiefly with a view to investigating the nature of the plants in the Riviera, and so aiding the inquiries of his son, who has written some elegant brochures on the botany of the district,[A] Mr