Among the
caricatures was one of a Presidential candidate, evidently a man of very
malleable principles, and likely to succeed.
Late in the evening (too late for little Rosebud) we drove homeward. The
streets of old Siena looked very grim at night, and it seemed like gazing
into caverns to glimpse down some of the side streets as we passed, with
a light burning dimly at the end of them. It was after ten when we
reached home, and climbed up our gloomy staircase, lighted by the glimmer
of some wax moccoli which I had in my pocket.
October 5th.--I have been two or three times into the cathedral; . . . .
the whole interior is of marble, in alternate lines of black and white,
each layer being about eight inches in width and extending horizontally.
It looks very curiously, and might remind the spectator of a stuff with
horizontal stripes. Nevertheless, the effect is exceedingly rich, these
alternate lines stretching away along the walls and round the clustered
pillars, seen aloft, and through the arches; everywhere, this inlay of
black and white.
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