May Day at sea and not a particularly beautiful day either for it was cloudy and pretty windy, but all the same the old oat still keeps an even keel, tho' I don't see how she does it. We had quite an exciting time of it this morning. The "Port Kingsten" of Bristol was sighted off the starboard bow, heading across or course. She held on, finally crossing our bow just ahead of us, so close we could read the name on our stern. Our people, to a man, wanted the Captain to ram her for her check, confound her!

Nothing transpired in the afternoon, save that Grace and Beany missed seeing a couple of whales which were junketing around. In the evening they enclosed the starboard side of the upper deck - I should say port, I'm facing backwards as I write - and had dancing there, and are still at it. Beany and I danced a couple of times only, but after Grace and she had gone to bed I went back and danced a couple more, once with Miss Daisy Dale and once with someone whose name I don't know, but I suppose I'll find out. Now I'm going to bed.

An absolutely uneventful day, which does not, however, mean that it wasn't altogether delightful, for it was. One could not inquire or ask for more perfect weather and the only drawback was the thought that each turn of the screw brings nearer the end of the voyage.

And all is again sad; or should I speak of the morning walk I took in the charming company of Miss Daisy Dale? Well d I remember of reading a criticism by Alan Dale, and of expressing a desire to punch the author, but now I have concluded to spare him for the sake of his fair and fair-haired daughter. More than that I even went the length of playing as his partner in a game of bridge this afternoon! And really, off paper he is very quiet and inoffensive, however rampageous he may be in print.

An expedition to the stern with Grace to watch the foam of our wake marking a path to the horizon, and a quiet hour with her on the moonlit boat-deck ending our sixth evening on board. And tomorrow we sight the Adores.

At Grace's request I did not write last night, so I am up this morning, and while the bugle is blowing the rising call, I having tubbed, shaved, dressed and been on deck, awe writing.
When I came on deck yesterday morning Fayal was in sight. It looked like a low lying bank of clouds for a time, but rapidly resolved itself in to a beautiful island with queer rocky headlands, green slopes divided in to more or less regular patches, and little clusters of white house. Soon, appearing around the end of Fayal, came Pico, frowning and forbidding it's cap crowned with snow and cloud banks forming a barrier lower down. A wonderful and rare sight is Pico and some who have traveled the same course many times have never had the sight before. And then San Jorge made his appearance and drew near. Closely skirting the shore we got a most beautiful view or rather succession of views. Soon came the little boat from shore with fresh farmers, fruit and milk, taking away the mail to be sent back to the States, but goodness knows when if ever it will reach there. But by lunch time the excitement had subsided and early in the afternoon the islands faded from view; so did I for a nap.

Today, for this is written later, we had a sight of a real whale and a large one. He was about fifteen fathoms away when he made his final dive, so we got a good look at some twenty feet of him. A couple of schools of porpoise served to amuse us also. I enjoyed a rather long chat with Signer Paroli, the opera singer. He was one of the victims of the Frisco fire. He speaks no English but on this occasion at least I found my French very effective. He wants us to call on him next year in Chicago. I also talked some the D-Donaldson, formerly of the U. of C.. He knows the Troops and others we know. Another dance this evening; this time I sat out only one and could easily have filled many more numbers.

I have first to write up yesterday which was not entirely unworthy of note and afterwards of today, which overlapped it by a foot or two, and them some.

Let's see: in the forenoon, it being Sunday, I rested very quietly upon the boat deck talking to Miss Harding, while in the afternoon, I was almost equally reposeful, talking this time to Miss Copello. At five, however, Beany and I had to make a trip to the baggage room to et some thins for Grace. And at seven came the Captain's dinner. It was a little in advance of the usual time seeing to the number of people who were to get off at Gibraltar, and differed from ordinary dinners in being a little more elaborate as to menu, precise or rather conventional as to the clothes of the diners, and ending with a procession of the stewards who carried Japanese lanterns and little lighted torches around which was placed the ice-cream, the saloon lights being turned out meanwhile. So much for Sunday, which I ended by dropping into the main saloon and singing hymns.

Today broke very hazy and windy, but proved fairly good after all, tho' the sun didn't come out at all and it was pretty cool until we got under the lu of Gibraltar. Twas late at breakfast and found land in sight after a fashion, when I came on deck. The whole morning was spent watching the shore draw near, expand and pass, and we almost resented the call to luncheon, but we felt it was a necessity so did our duty and went. Finally, at about three, the long looked for "Gib" hove in sight and in due time we anchored "under her frowning guns". Our little tender came puffing up, made fast, took on baggage while hotel men, cook's and other agents permeated the atmosphere, and then crowded us on board. It looked at first as if it would require about five trips to transport the bunch of passengers bound for shore, but in some way or other we all managed to et on, and off with out sinking the boat. George Ade speaks of "first hours" but I'll bet I can get a good many "first hour: thrills out of "Gib" so can the others. Being posed I refused the offers of carriages (if the can be so called) at $5.00 for the drive and declined to pay over $2.00: so, seeing I was determined the others came to my terms, and we drew about the best driver of the lot too. and the drive! I don't think I can describe it, with it's mixture of narrow streets, greeks shops, Moon, Spaniards and people of all nations, the red jackets of Timmy Atkins everywhere, the wonderful rock trining, stern and powerful, over all. It's all a picture, ever changing new and strange: too new and strange to grasp. But there are some impressions that we have made our own and shall keep. Beany things we are heroes on account of the number of lives we have saved thro' not running over the owners and it is absolutely marvelous how it ever was done, for our driver made his old horse (?) go almost at a run and the little yard wide streets were always crowded.. Up to the Park we rushed, walked there a shot time, on past this, that and the other, down into the town again, to the Post Office, out to the neutral ground, and then back to the boat; but oh, oh much we crowded into that hour and a half!

And now we are sailing up the Mediterranean, glad to be at home again. Thirty-five persons have left our household, among hem the Dales, Milliken, the Kohl mans and Bigbys, the latter being our morose bridegroom and jovial bride. Only fifteen have joined and I don't know who or what they are

Nothing doing but a high wind and a cloudy day. Certainly a trip of surprise with smooth sea all the way to Gib and rough weather on the calm and smiling Mediterranean. Still, it doesn't affect the old Koing at all. So far as motion goes, tho' the head wind is making us lose time somewhat, and will keep us from reaching Naples till, probably four or five 0'clock Thursday

Tomorrow we are due at Naples, and we at any rate are sorry. We lose all oat our table. Mr. and Mrs. Mack, and the Greenmans, and shall miss them; Mr. Mack for his humorously cynical yet apropos observations, Mr. Greenman for the information he has called during he day and inputs in his pulpit voice, their wives for, shall we say? the niches hey fill, and even young Raymond, a nice and a bright child, who hasn't been at al troublesome. We rather considered that we have had the best selected table of the lot and I know others think we have had the best time, particularly since Grace has been coming in. And so it goes; with thinned roes and many faces missing and some new faces added we shall proceed upon the last stage of a pleasant voyage

Here we are, still on board, skirting the Italian coast between Naples and Genoa, merely a shadow of our former selves, for the trippens which we have picked up do not count- in our opinion.
Yesterday was so eventful that I was too tired to write last night. We made a fairly good run for the twenty fours ending as noon and had but forty-one miles left to Naples, That we made by three o'clock and at four we took the second tender for shore, Miss Copello being with us. Dr. Olivia joined our party but he decidedly was not an acquisition; he essayed to take the lead and show us the town, but after half and hour or so of it I rebelled, hired a carriage and we drove till six. It was a very pleasant and interesting drive, but poor Naples shows the effect of the recent eruption and is awfully dirty and dusty. Our driver couldn't understand our not wanting to visit churches, but I was firm and we drove, Miss Copello tried to worry my life out by giving money to all the beggars she saw. Grace and Beany just locked and enjoyed it all. But back on board, after dinner, I had the time of the trip. Picture a persuasive Italian merchant trying to sell Grace a coral necklace Grace looks at the necklace, merchant insists upon her having it, Grace don't want it, but she must by; Grace walks away to end the discussion; merchant follows; Grace walks faster, thinks she has lost him, glances back finds him still in pursuit, abandons dignity and runs, darting into the ladies saloon, while the disconsolate merchant watches her through the window; I in the mean time doubled up in my chair with the tears running down my face. Oh, but it was rich! and a laugh like that is worth the trip.

We lay in Naples till five this morning, so shan't get to Genoa till tomorrow morning, as I don't know what hour exactly, but early. It was rather lonely on board, for there were only abut twenty of the original crowd left, but we got thro' the day in good shape, passing a number of small islands and getting a view of the mainland a good part of the time. After dark we passed Elba and saw the lights on shore but that was all. Then the Captain took us to his cabin and we talked, looked at pictures and I smoked. till eleven. We are due in Genoa about five tomorrow; breakfast at 6:30 and then for shore! Mother wired Thursday that they were leaving for Genoa, so they are waiting there now. And now goodbye to Konig Albert

I was shaving Saturday when Grace called "I see Mother, Alice and Pietro" and I had just time to get the soap off my face before they got down to our stateroom. We got packed up and went ashore, and I found that having an officer in the family was a very convenient thing at the custom house. We went to the Royal Hotel, left our things and went to the "Righj", on top of the mountain overlooking Genoa, and had a most lovely view of the town and surrounding country. Back to the hotel for lunching, and then, after a shower, Pietro and I took a walk, during which we met Miss Copello and her people. At 4:34 we took the train for this place, where Alice and Pietro spent their honeymoon, and arrived at 5:48, dressed for dinner, talked awhile and retired.

This morning we drove to Rapallo and back, a beautiful drive, but with too many interesting features to attempt describing any of them; and this afternoon Pietro and I took a sail to Porto Fino. I rather liked the idea of sailing a boat on the Mediterranean so took the helm myself on the way out; and when we came home I wrote letters and enjoyed the view sitting there in front of the hotel with the blue waters of the Mediterranean gently lapping the shore.

It sounds rather queer to say we are home at last, but such is the case, and, while the house is strange there are enough familiar objects to make it seem like home.
This morning we drove from S. Margarita to Portofirco and visited some lace makers. The drive was altogether beautiful, the road winding along the sea shore and giving us a succession of lovely views. The prettiest point of all was the house or castle belonging to the British Consul and I'd like to own and occupy it. It is high up on a point of land, as small bay on either side almost cutting it off from the mainland - exactly as one pictures an old feudal castle.

Back we drove, had luncheon and at 1:25 left for Florence, our departure from the hotel being marked by pleasant smiles, good wishes and gifts of glorious bouquets of roses and souvenir cups. At Pisa we caught sight of the Tones, Duomo, Baptising and Cauepo Santo, had a wait of fifteen minutes, took the train for Florence and arrived at a little after seven. Notified of our coming Beppa and Marie had everything ready for us, including a good dinner; and here we are.

Even waking in our old fashioned room, with window open letting in the Italian air, was a pleasant experience, and ringing the bell Marie came with our coffee. After dressing leisurely I made an excursion under mother's guidance, to the Via Strozzi where I left some films for developing. Luncheon, a general chat, a short walk with Grace and a drive through the city by all save Pietro brought tea time, after which we sent Grace off for a nap and Delphene, and I made an expedition to Ss. Annuniziata and the Duomo. Home for dinner, a call from Mrs.. Bartlett and a walk with Pietro brings me to the present time.

I suppose one would be thought easily satisfied who was pleased with a rainy day, but I was all the same. It didn't rain hard enough to be disagreeable, just a light, warm rain about all day. We stayed in till after tea, writing, reading and sleeping, and at five Mother, Beany and I started out, walked to San Marco and a bit further on. When Mother left us, to call on Mrs. Begg, while Bean and I continued our walk, passing the Duoms, and crossing the Ponte Vecchio, to the Pitti palace, returning home past Santa Mari Novella and the station, somewhat fatigued but in good spirits after our walk and quite ready for our dinner. A quiet evening, with music and cards ended the day.

Yesterday morning we organized, and carried through successfully, a shopping expedition, penetrating the utmost fastnesses of the land. We ended up at the Flower Market, where I was done, for I paid four cents (Am.) for a bunch of some half dozen tea roses, for which I fear I should have paid but half the sum. No wonder we Americans are considered easy marks.
In the afternoon we put on our joyous raiment, and went and took tea with the Beggs, incidentally coming in for a dress rehearsal of Buffalo Bill. I was charmed with Mrs. Begg, and fell in love with the children. Mr. Begg is very pleasant, but of curse the feminine members of the family appealed more to my susceptible nature.

Leaving the Beggs, Grace and I took a lovely walk along the Vialy, strolling around till dinner time. The mountains and Fiersale made a beautiful picture, and everything we saw was charming.
Today is the double anniversary of father's death and Alice's birthday. I took Grace out for a walk right after breakfast, working our way down into the old part of town and as far over as the Pitti Palace. Came home in time to go to service with Mother at ten o'clock. And in the afternoon we three, with Mother took a train ride around the city to the Palazzo Vecchio where we took a bus bringing us home.

But I must not neglect mentioning our call on Mr. Sodine, a sculptor who has executed four of the statues on the Duomo, a plate to Savonaeola in the Piazzo Signoria and other important pieces in this and other countries. We saw a statue he has made for our Hall of Fame, a beautiful figure of heroic size and most artistic withal. Mr. Sodine is charming personally, and, taking us into his garden picked Grace a large bunch of her favorite roses, which action quite won her heart.

Again have I two days to write up, and Saturday wasn't an unimportant day either. Grace and I took a walk at nine, meeting the rest down town at ten and going to the Uffizi Gallery. Two incidents there; a misunderstanding over meeting Alice which gave Mother and me two trips up and down those stairs; and an unexpected encounter with Miss Harding and Miss Mackillop. At three Mother and I went with the Beggs to hear Nannie play at a small students recital - really good. Came home and got Grace and we took a long walk, following the Viale clear around the town, almost to the river, then back to the Duomo where we took a cab and drove home. Almira and Leopoldo called in the evening.

This morning was chilly and rainy but mother and I went to church. Cold as a barn and I came home before sermon. In the afternoon we had an "ini" reception, Mr. and Mrs.. Sabatini and Mr. Saltini calling. Almira was here to and Guido came in for her. Mr. Saltini is an old man and very amusing, but is one of the big Italian painters.

This morning, despite the rain which has fallen more or less each day since we came, we drove to the Pitti Palace and spent a most delightful two hours. We ran across Mr. Dunlop, who as being chased along with a personally conducted crowd, and who looked worn and harassed in consequence. A headache and sore throat induced me to take a nap after lunch, but at half after four we all went to the Villa Zollope to a tea given by Mrs. Bartlett, and in the evening Mrs. B came over here to play whist,

Quite an interval since the date of last entry, but on Tuesday I was enacting the role of Interesting Invalid and stayed in bed all day; a bad sore throat being the cause of my indisposition. In the evening, however, I dressed, and had my dinner in front of a fire in the salon.
Wednesday I clung to my dummy couch all forenoon, but forsook it for a drive in the Cascine in the afternoon, and a lovely drive it was too! The Cascine is a sort of park, or drive, along the Arno, where the elite and others of Florence do congregate for recreation and fresh air. Mr. And Mrs. Gegg came in for tea and after tea Mr. & Mrs. Rim both came and we closed the deal for the Villa.

Today, being Ascension Day, we went to the Cascine to watch the populace a-holidaying, and bought and liberated crickets in due form. In the afternoon we drove to San Miniate, taking sandwiches, cake and drinkibles, which we consumed while comfortably seated on an eminence which afforded a suburb view of the city. The old cemetery behind us didn't seem to affect our appetites any more than the thought of countless great who had looked at the same view form the same spot in years and centuries past, but we had our little picnic, strolled about for awhile and took the train home, tired but happy. I don't know why my mind descends to little things in the presence of great, but all the same I had great fun listening to the argument between a vendor of buns and a woman whos child upset his basket in the Piazziale Michelangiola; a singularly effective instrument is the Italian language; but the woman came out ahead.

Down to French Lemon's peu 'bus. A call at Cook's where I ran across the young fellow whos chair was opposite ours on the Konigo deck, MCsmith by name. And speaking of the Konig, our tickets came today, reserving rooms 118 and 121 for us Oct. 18t. Into a cafe for chocolate and home. To Via Bolognese, 27, at two; but that doesn't sound as if it stood for our Florentine home, does it? It does all the same and is a beautiful place even now overrun with weeds and underbrush and needing care; it will be lovely when put in proper order. But more anor.
Climbing into our best bibs and tuckers we climbed into a cab at 4:30 and Alice spoke some magic words, which I afterwards found to be "Sigerine, Marinai, via Vechietti" - simple enough to look at but fierce to listen to, and this incantation resulted in our being whisked thro' the air and set down again in front of a cafe where we had tea and ices and listened to pleasing music.

Tonight again do I long for the "pen of a ready write", but I haven't got it. The day really commenced at half after four though I spent the morning rambling about the town trying t find a cribbage board for Pietro; but at the hour mentioned above we all started for Fiesale, meeting Pietro at the Duomo. Reaching the end of the line Mother and Pietro went to make arrangements for dinner, while the rest of us explored the ruins of the old Etruscan amphitheater and wall. I took the girls picture in two or three places and made them a speech from the stage. probably not equal to the oratory of two thousand years or so ago, but good enough for me. Then we joined the others and the fems made a dive into a novelty store - just like 'enu. Only Pietro and I could make the climb to the top of the hill, but the view was well worth the effort and I guess the girls will have to go up when we come back. And then came dinner, out on the terrace overlooking the city, while the sun set behind the hill and the lights in the valley came out one by one - a lovely, lovely sight, and hard to tear oneself away from, but at last we did and came gliding down and around the hills while millions of fireflies mingled their lanterns with the lights of the town in a very confusing manner. Fiesale - - a beautiful name and a beautiful place!!

The monks of old who chose it for their home were surely lovers of the beautiful, and choice well.
And after it all a quiet stroll home from the Duomo for Grace and me. Good night.

This morning I walked down to Piancastillie but found the pictures not yet ready. Came home and Grace and I went to Mass at So. Annungiata. Took a nap till tea time and then Bean and I walked till dinner, going down to examine the bronze doors on the Baptistry. In the evening the Andreani and Ormsby duos went to call on Miss Hanson, and when we returned found Mr. Landini entertaining mother and Delphene. he is a dead ringer for Mansfield's Baron Chovrial" in the "Parisian Romances", and is about our most amusing experience in Florence.

Spent the morning at the Institute with Pietro. Drove down to the dressmakers with the girls after lunch. In the evening we went for a drive out past the Villa and into the country, along narrow roads where one could touch the walls on either side; the moon shining down on us; while honeysuckle and other flowers filled the air with perfume.

I wish I'd written last night so I'd have nothing but Venice to talk about now, but I've got yesterday as well as our trip today, so I might as well resign myself to it, for I can't talk of Venice till we get there I guess.

Tuesday morning Mother and I went down to get our tickets and make other arrangements. Met the Greenmans down town, and stopped for a little chat. It was awfully hot, but Alice, Delle and I went to Mr. Sormborinis studio and saw him making a sketch of Pietro. He is only twenty-one or two but is considered to be one of the best, if not the very best, of Florence's artists. We called on Mr. Saltini too and dropped into Mr. Sabatinis studio, but he was not there. After we got home I sneaked down to the Floreal and got an ice, no one being willing to go with me.

Today - at 2:38 - began our trip to Venice, and finished it too. Brutally hot at the start the one got a little better soon and was fairly comfortable from Bologna. Some 44 tunnels didn't improve matters any, but the scenery was so beautiful we couldn't find fault. Alice and Pietro saw us off and are to join us Saturday. a delightful double luncheon caused us to bless Alice all the way, in anticipation, realization and reminiscence.

And at 9:40 we reached here! But who can begin to describe Venice, or even the impression one receives between station and hotel?

Truly the Dream City, and a city of dreams. Even the prosaic acts take on a romantic coloring - but I can't write, for, as I am trying, a "baica" filled with singers and an orchestra is anchored out in the Grand Canal near our window and they are playing and singing "Santa Lucia" and many things else, most beautifully! After coming here and getting our rooms Grace and I took a gondola and went out to one of the "barce" and listened a long time, our boat, with many another, lying alongside the larger one.

A walk along the narrow little streets, too narrow almost to walk to abreast, then to St Mark's Square, where we fed, the doves; next into the Cathedral for a few minutes; after that an exploring tour to the Rialto, where we took a gondola and came slowly homeward.
In the afternoon, while Mother and Grace rested, Beany and I spent a couple of hours being rowed about the smaller canals, stopping for tea at the Piazza S. Marco and running into Sta Maria della Satule.

And in the evening al of us went out for a row; under the Bridge of Sighs and along the little canal, winding in and out, here and there, finally going out for the music. After we came in and upstairs, colored fires, red and green, were lighted in many places across the canal, making with gliding boats, lovely buildings and shining water, an absolutely beautiful picture, while the music - real Italian music - completed the perfect charm of the scene.