resumes, and so they continue, hour after
hour, until they work themselves up to a
state of fury (for the chaunt is generally
full of gibes and ridicules of the other
party), and not unfrequently the challenge
ends in blood. So it did last night. A
party came into the town, rented a window,
and sent a challenge, which was accepted by
another party; but the chaunt of the
challenger was too biting, and it ended in one
man being stabbed. We were enabled," he
goes on to say, "to stop one dangerous
affair. Four men from Monte Vergine,
dedicated, as you know, to a celebrated
Madonna, sent a challenge to chaunt with four
men in Nola; but the police got scent of it
and arrested them."

To the religious festivity now succeed the
quite as serious operations of eating and drinking.
About fifty thousand people here crowded
into the town; so that if the houses had been
made of India rubber, it would be impossible
to take the entire crowd in. With trees,
therefore, and flowers, hundreds of tents were
improvised, and the appearance of the place
might suggest some idea of the Feast of
Tabernacles.

From my window, where I am enjoying
the hospitality of a jolly captain in
the guards, I look down on one of these
scenes. There are a variety of tables. As
the ladies enter, they go behind two
mulberry trees, and prepare their dinner toilette
by taking off their gowns and jewellery, and
wiping their faces. The gentlemen take off
their coats. There are mountains of maccaroni
with pomi d'oro and cheese, and great hunks
of ragout, and ricottos interspersed with capers
and anchovy, and immense glass flagons of
wine; so called by courtesy. And there is
shrieking, and laughing, and no end of merriment.
The tables are at last thrust aside,
and up starts a young woman who challenges
a man to dance, Tarantella, and she tires him
down, and then comes on another — and they
dance, and clap hands, and pant, and at last
both give over by mutual consent; and so
dancing becomes general, and many hundreds
in Nola are overflowing with happiness. About
four or five o'clock there is a general move
amongst the merry crew. Eager for variety,
they have had enough of Nola, now that
the Giglios, and the feasting, and the dancing
are over; and off they must gallop to
Naples, where they have to display themselves
and their finery to the terror-stricken aristocrats,
who are enjoying their very proper and
very dusty drive in the Rlviera di Chiaja.
It is a funny sight as they move off one by
one. Every species of carriage is to be seen
that was ever invented. The carrozzella,
and the carritella, and the cittadina, and
waggons, and planks — all festooned and
covered in with branches of trees and
flowers. They looked much more picturesque
than any gilded carriage on a court day.
Then there are horses, and donkeys, and

mules, and oxen — one, two, three abreast—
and all dressed out with purchases characteristic
of the festival. Every steed has its plume,
and its rosary of nut-kernels, and all are
covered over with bouquets. As for the
tenants of these singular vehicles, their
hats are of course decorated with painted
feathers and golden leaves — not with
tricolored feathers; for was not a French
attaché recently stopped by the police on his
return from a country fête thus adorned?
Their necks, and waists, and arms, and ears
hung with chains of nut-kernels in
commemoration of the fête.

Time was perhaps when the religious
element predominated in these fêtes; and the
pious pilgrims brought away ivory rosaries,
as records and preservers. In the present
day, perhaps, the pleasure element predominates;
the rosaries are made of nuts, and
all are eaten, even those which have
decorated the donkeys' necks. Each man carries
a gay flag made in Nola, in which red is most
conspicuous, and it is dotted all over with
pieces of gilt leaf. Waving these, and shouting,
singing, screaming, off they start for
Naples, as rapidly as their steeds can carry
them. In the capital, many thousand expectants
are waiting to receive them; the
windows are lined with spectators, who laugh at
the jolly pilgrims.

It is unnecessary to say that it is not
considered genteel to leave Nola so early.
Besides, there are some races to come off,
so that I found myself, through the interest
of my military friend, in the grand stand, once
more with princes and dukes. There are
bodies of cavalry to keep the grounds, who
gallop about, rear, and appear to have a vast
deal to do. One by one the running horses are
brought out, with their small jockeys by their
side, dressed in clothes a world too wide for
them. One horse has a white towel tied over
one eye, and another blinkers; and, bless
my heart, how they kick and rear! At
last the riders are mounted, and off they
start. What a sensation on the course!
The favourite horse won't move beyond
a certain point, however, spite of three men
who run behind to whip him. No! he
won't move upon compulsion. There is no
knowing what he might choose to do if left
to himself; and thus the race is won, not by
half a neck, but by half a mile. The next race
is a very close one; the whippers keeping
near to the horses all the way, and they came
in almost nose to nose. A proud day it
is for the winner, who is immediately
surrounded by a crowd of friends, who
conducted him in triumph back to Nola. As for
the unfortunate loser, he was greeted with
hisses.

And now, good-bye to San Paolino, and to
Nola town — the beautiful mountains behind
it are painted in vivid purple; castles and
monasteries are glowing in the last deep
tints of the setting sun, and the shrill whistle