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IT was on the afternoon of the very warmest day in August that the children came running to me and eagerly asked:

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"There are some boys and girls from the village out on the hill, and some from the hotel on the mountain, and they all have brought their sleds. "May we go and slide down-hill with the other Harry has brought his down from the attic, and he children, Mamma?" says he will take us down, because we have n't any sled. He wanted the candle-end."

Being very busy at the moment, I only half understood the request they were making, and replied, in a very absent-minded way:

"Yes, you may go."

But the next question recalled my wool-gathering wits, and brought me to my senses suddenly.

"Please may we have this candle-end? Harry says they have n't enough to go around, and Maggie will surely bring you fresh candles at dark."

"Why children!" I exclaimed, "what are you talking about? Sliding down-hill in August! And what are you going to do with that candle?"

I presume my face must have expressed my utter amazement; for all the children began to laugh and shout: "What's the matter, Mamma? you look frightened."

When the merriment had subsided, my little son tried to explain:

"Take the candle, child; but what is Harry going to do with it?" I inquired.

"I don't know, Mamma. Come out on the balcony. Every one else is there," he cried.

It seemed such a puzzle to me, that I rose, put away the letters I was attempting to answer, and went out to see what was going on.

When I reached the spacious balcony, I was almost convinced that the whole valley had been bewitched.

There were gathered at least twenty children and half a dozen sleds. The boys were dragging the sleds up the steep slope of the hill-side that rose from the road in front of the house, while the girls followed after as well as they could.

It was not by any means an easy feat to climb this slope.

Though at a casual glance it seemed as soft and velvety as a well-kept lawn, it was to the unwary a delusion and a snare. The midsummer sun shines down upon the Adirondack mountains with as much ardor as on the city streets. Though the nights are cool, frequently even cold, there are no dews, and usually but little rain. So the short thick grass that grows abundantly upon the sides of the lesser mountains, or, more properly speaking, the foot-hills, becomes somewhat parched and smooth, and as slippery as ice. The children, then, had before them quite an amount of hard walking, but those children were like mountain-goats, hardy, willing, and able to climb anything.

I watched them with interest. At last the top was reached. Then, the sleds were turned upside down, and I discovered the mystery of the candleend, for the runners were rubbed vigorously with candles; this completed, the sleds were put in proper position again, three children seated themselves upon each, and a gentle push started them down the slope.

How swiftly they came! The slope was steep but smooth; not a rock, stump, or stone on its surface; there was no danger, and the sleds stopped on the sandy road.

For two long hours this colony of children coasted-till the grass was worn almost to the roots, and the supply of tallow (which is indispensable for this midsummer coasting) was exhausted. They shouted themselves hoarse; they ran and tugged and climbed until they were tired out.

After all the little ones were weary, we older people joined in the fun. I own to having made the descent but once,- that was quite enough for me. We read of speed that "takes the breath away," and of "going like the wind," and the rate at which that sled came down that hill-side made me realize what those expressions mean.

I never before had heard of this novel amusement; but, startling as it seemed at first, the novelty soon wore away, and I became quite accustomed to the sight and sounds of coasting in midsummer.

Gre BARVEST moon:

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PERSONALLY CONDUCTED.

THIRD PAPER.

BY FRANK R. STOCKTON.

LITTLE PISA AND GREAT ROME.

EAVING Genoa behind us, we will now pursue our journey into other parts of Italy; and in so doing we shall find that the various portions of this charming country differ greatly from one another. The reason for this variety in manners, customs, and even the appearance of people and cities, is easily understood when we remember that the great towns of Italy were once independent powers, each governing, not only the country around it, but often holding sway over large territories in other parts of the world. It is only in late years, indeed, that all the various portions of Italy have been united into one kingdom.

We are now going to Rome, but on the way we shall stop at Pisa, because every boy and girl who has ever studied geography will want to know if it is standing yet, and if there is likely to be a great tumble and crash while we are there. There is no need of mentioning what it is, for every one knows that there is nothing in the world so tall, which at the same time leans over so much. As the whale is the king of fishes, and the elephant the king of beasts, so is it the king of all things which threaten to fall over, and don't.

The scenery between Genoa and Pisa is very beautiful, lying along that lovely coast of the Mediterranean called the Riviera di Levante, but there are reasons why we shall not enjoy it as much as we would like. These reasons are eighty in number, and consist of tunnels, some long and some short, and all very unceremonious in the suddenness with which they cut off a view. As soon as we sight a queer old stone town, or a little village surrounded by lemon groves, or a stretch of blue sea at the foot of olive-covered mountains, everything is instantly extinguished, and we sit in the dark; then there is another view which is just as quickly cut off, and so this amusement goes on

for the whole distance, which is only a little over a hundred miles. There is an old story, once told to a story-loving king, about an immense barn, filled to the top with wheat, and a vast swarm of locusts. There was a little hole in the roof, and first one locust went in and took a grain of wheat, and then another took a grain, and after that another one took a grain, and then another locust took another grain, and then the next locust took a grain, and so on for ever so long; until the King jumped up in a passion and cried out:

"Stop that story! Take my daughter, and marry her, and let us hear no more of those dreadful locusts."

The tunnels on the road between Genoa and Pisa remind one very much of that locust story.

If the city of Pisa had been built for the convenience of visitors, it could not have been better planned. There are four things in the town that are worth coming to see, and these all are placed close together, in one corner, so that tourists can stop here for a few hours, see the Pisan wonders without the necessity of running all over town to find them, and then go on their way. Like every one else, then, we will go directly to the north-west corner of the city, and the first thing we shall see will be the great Leaning Tower of Pisa. Every one of us will admit, I am very sure, that it leans quite as much as we expected; and at first the girls will not wish to stand on that side of it where they can look up and see the tall structure leaning over them; but as the tower has stood there for over five hundred years without falling, we need not be afraid of it now. You all have seen pictures of it, and know how it looks, with its many circular galleries, one above another, each surrounded by a row of columns. But none of us have any idea what a queer thing it is to ascend this tower until we try it. Inside, a winding stone staircase leads to the top, and although the tower is one hundred and seventy-nine feet high, and there are two hundred and ninety-four steps, young legs will not hesitate to make the ascent. If there is any trouble, it will be with the heads; but as the stair-way is inclosed on each side, there is no danger. The steps wind, but they also incline quite a good deal, so that one always feels a slight disposition to slip to one side. At each story there is a door-way, so that we can go out upon the open galleries. Here there is danger, if

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we are not careful. When we are on the upper
side of the gallery, it is all very well, because the
floor slants toward the building, and we can lean
back and look about us quite comfortably. But
when we go around to the lower side, we feel as if
we were just about to slide off the smooth marble
floor of the gallery, which is only a few feet wide,
and that the whole concern would come down after
us. Nervous people generally keep off the lower
sides of the galleries, which have no protection
except the pillars, and these do not stand very close
together. This tall edifice was built for a cam-
panile, or bell-tower, for the cathedral close by; and
when we reach the top, we find the great bells
hanging in their places. One of these is an enor-
mous fellow weighing six tons, and you will notice
that it is not hung on the lower or overhanging
side of the tower, but well over on the other side,
so as not to give the building any help in toppling
over if it should feel more inclined to do so. The
view from the top is an extended one, showing us
a great deal of very beautiful Italian country; but
the main object with most
of us for climbing to the
belfry is to have the novel
experience of standing on
a lofty tower which leans
thirteen feet from the per-
pendicular. There is a
railing up there, and we
can safely look over. On
the overhanging side we
can see nothing below us
but the ground. The bot-

seven hundred years old. The front, or façade, is celebrated for its beautiful columns and galleries, and inside there are a great many interesting things to see-such as old paintings, mosaics, and carvings, and two rows of sixty-eight ancient Greek and Roman columns which support the roof, and were captured by the Pisans when they had a great fleet, and used to conquer other countries and carry away spoils. But there is one object here which has been of as much value to us, and to every one else in the world, as it ever was to the Italians. This is a hanging bronze lamp, suspended by a very long chain from the middle of the roof. It was the swinging of this very lamp which gave to Galileo the idea of the pendulum.

Near the cathedral stands the famous Baptistery, which is a circular building with two rows of columns supporting a beautiful dome, the top of which is higher than the great bell-tower. The two most notable things inside are the wonderful echo, which we all shall wish to hear, and a famous

tom of the wall is not only

far beneath us, but thirteen feet behind us. On the opposite, or higher,

side we see the pillars and galleries sloping away beneath us. It was on the lower side of this belfry that Galileo carried on some of his experiments. There could not be a more capital place from which to hang a long pendulum. Many people think that the inclined position of this famous tower is due to accident, and that the foundations on one side have sunk. But others believe that it was built in this way, and I am inclined to agree with them. There are quite a number of leaning towers in Italy, the one in Bologna being a good deal higher than this of Pisa, although it leans only four feet. They all were probably constructed according to a whimsical architectural fashion of the time, for it is not likely that of all the buildings these towers only should have leaned over in this way, and that none of them should ever have settled so much as to fall.

A DISTANT VIEW OF PISA.

pulpit, covered with beautiful sculptures by the celebrated Niccolo Pisano, or Nicholas of Pisa, as we should call him.

The last one of this quartet of Pisan objects of interest is the Campo Santo, or cemetery. This is so entirely different from the one at Genoa that we shall take the greater interest in it from having seen that. The first was modern, and nearly all the statues were dressed in handsome clothes of late fashions; but here everything is very old, the great square building with an open space in the center having been finished six hundred years ago. The Crusaders who went from Pisa to the Holy Land hoped, when they died, to be buried in Palestine. But as the Crusades failed, they could not make a Campo Santo there, but they brought back with them fifty-three ship-loads of earth from Mount Calvary, and this they placed in their The great white marble cathedral close by is cemetery of Pisa, in order that they might, after

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