By this time it was nearly twelve o’clock, and we went outside to see the clock strike. The clock tower is a large broad building six storeys high, topped by a short central tower forming an additional storey. On the façade, a large dial marks the hours up to twenty–four, according to old Italian time, and some other astronomical mutations. Over the dial there is a statue of the Virgin, and on the top of the tower, surmounted by a golden lion, two bronze giants with sledge–hammers strike the hours, whereupon, by means of machinery, three puppet kings, preceded by an angel, stagger out at a door on one side of the Virgin, and passing jerkily along, each in turn, as it arrives opposite her, bows to her stiffly with puppet grace, marches on, and with a twitch disappears at another door, both doors closing after all have done their duty. A crowd watched the performance, which we were in luck to see, as after Whitsunday the show does not take place for some length of time. * * * * * This important event witnessed, we walked round the Piazza, which at night is a gay scene—lights blazing, a band of music performing, and the whole square filled with people. In the day–time it is comparatively quiet. Here and in an adjoining street the shops of Venice are concentrated. They are small boxes resembling very much the little shops in the Palais Royal in Paris, though not so rich in jewellery or so well stocked with merchandise. In many of them there are always for sale little models of gondolas in all kinds of material, from silver to leather and wood. In others photographs are sold, the photos of Venice being noted as remarkably good; and they are printed, I think, on rather thicker paper than elsewhere, but they are slightly dearer than those in the South of Italy. There are also shops in which the famous Venetian glass is sold. The manufacture of glass is a great trade in Venice, and one sees among them very beautiful samples of the work, embracing articles in iridescent glass; but as the manufacturers have agents in London, it is not very desirable to purchase such frail commodities to take so far home. People, however, do so, and probably they would not purchase at home; while it is certainly true that purchases made in distant places of what is peculiar to the place acquire a value which never attaches to the same things procured in one’s own country. On a subsequent day we visited one of the glass and mosaic works, which our gondoliers (for some unaccountable reason, if we put aside personal motives and small commissions which the brave gondolier must assuredly be above accepting) were always pressing we should stop at. The manufacture is interesting, but one feels under an obligation to purchase in requital for attention, and really the prices asked were forbiddingly high. * * * * *