"I feel as if vacation time were over," said Molly, a few days later,
as she looked from their window out upon a busy street in Rome. "I
should much rather play in the orange garden at Sorrento or climb over
the island of Capri with Giorgio and Luisa than to see Rome."
"So should I!" said May. "I am sure there can't be any more surprises
as nice as the ones we have had."
"Oh, yes, there can be!" said their father, who overheard what his
Sunbonnet Babies were talking about. "There is one big surprise
coming, which I believe you will think is even nicer than Sorrento or
Capri."
"O father! Is it here in Rome?" asked May.
"No," answered her father. "Not the surprise I am thinking about,
though there are many nice ones here. We can drive about the city a
little now, and see what it looks like."
"That will be fun," said Molly. "I hope the streets will not be so
noisy and dirty as they were in Naples."
They were soon driving through broad streets and narrow streets,
through streets where electric cars were speeding along, through old,
old streets, and through big beautiful squares. It seemed as if they
passed more great stone churches and handsome fountains than they had
seen in all their lives before.
Their driver stopped his carriage near one of the largest of the
fountains and said they should each throw a penny into the basin of
water and take a drink from it before leaving Rome. Then they would
surely visit the city again, for the legend says:
Cast your obulus in Trevi's fountain,
Drink and, returning home,
Pray that by stream or desert, vale or mountain,
All roads may lead to Rome.
"I am not sure yet that I want to come to Rome again," said
Molly. "I think I will not throw my penny into the fountain until the
last day I am here."
"I will show you something that will make you want to come again,"
said the driver. "I know what the Americans like."
He then drove them through more narrow streets, until they came to a
large square with a fountain in the center of it. This fountain looked
like an old Roman war vessel.
Already the Sunbonnet Babies had learned that in Italy a public square
is called a _piazza_, and their driver told them that this square was
the Spanish Piazza.
"It should be called the Flower Piazza!" exclaimed May. "It looks like
a big flower market. May we buy some of those lovely cherry blossoms?"
"Yes, indeed! Buy all you want," said their driver. "This is only one
of our flower markets. There are many others in the city."
"Why are the people waiting on those great stone steps?" asked Molly.
"And why do they wear such odd, pretty clothes?"
[Illustration: "_It should be called the Flower Piazza!_"]
"Those people are models for artists," answered their driver. "Many of
them live in the country and come into the city every pleasant
morning. They wait on these steps, hoping artists may come and ask
them to pose for their pictures. They are dressed in the old Roman
costumes."
"I like their costumes," said May. "I wish your people would all dress
that way. How nice that little girl looks with her bright-colored
apron and red coral beads. She is barefooted and bareheaded, too."
[Illustration: "_Isn't she lovely?_"]
"See, she is running down the steps with a tall jar on her head. Isn't
she lovely? I wonder if she will let us take her picture."
"I will ask her," said May. "Do you suppose that woman is her mother?
She is knitting with long, crooked needles. Her cap looks like a white
handkerchief laid over her black hair. Perhaps they think father and
mother are artists who want to paint them in a picture."
"I will tell them that my little daughters are the artists," said the
Sunbonnet Babies' father. "It does not take you so long to make a
picture as it does most artists, so I think they will be glad to pose
for you."
And they were. When the camera had been snapped, Molly and May each
gave the little girl a _soldo_ and said they hoped a real artist would
paint a beautiful picture of her soon.
"I should much rather see the picture you have just taken in your
queer, black box," said the little Italian girl.
"Would you really like to have us send it to you when it is finished?"
asked Molly.
"Oh, yes, thank you! I would take it home to _il padre_ and show him
what happens when I come to the big city."
"Where do you live?? asked the Sunbonnet Babies' father.
"We live in the country, two miles beyond the city walls. We go out
through St. Paul's Gate. My father has a little farm out there."
"May we drive out to see you some day?" asked the Sunbonnet Babies'
father again.
"We should be proud to have you do so, sir," answered the little
girl's mother politely.
"We will come next Friday afternoon, if you will be at home that day."
"And we will bring the picture we have just taken," Molly said to her
smiling little friend.
"Please tell us what your name is," said May.
"My name is Maria," answered the little girl brightly.
"Why, that is the Italian name for Mary, isn't it? My name is May."
"Addio, Maria! Here are some cherry blossoms for you, and here is a
bunch of kisses. Addio!"
Then they drove away, blowing kisses from the tips of their small
fingers to the lovely little model standing on the Spanish Flower
Steps.
Soon they came to a handsome bridge which crossed the river Tiber.
Their driver said this bridge was built by the famous Emperor Hadrian
in the year 136. At the end of the bridge was a great round castle,
which was also built by Emperor Hadrian, as a burial tomb for himself.
Three hundred years ago ten large stone angels were placed on each
side of the long bridge, and another angel was put high on top of the
round castle. Since then Hadrian's Tomb is often called the
Castle of the Holy Angels, and the bridge is called the Bridge of the
Holy Angels.
[Illustration: _The Bridge of the Holy Angels_]
As Molly and May drove slowly across this fine old bridge between the
two rows of angels, they felt very small and very young indeed.
"I wonder if any of the bridges in America will last eighteen hundred
years," Molly said thoughtfully. "And what do you suppose the boys and
girls were like in those days?"
"I believe they were very much like the Roman children to-day," said
her father. "And I am sure those old Roman men must have been
very wise to build such fine bridges as this one. In a few moments we
shall see the largest church in all the world."
"Why, I thought the largest buildings were all in America," said May.
"The largest and tallest business buildings are there," said her
father, "but not the largest churches. Half a dozen of the big
churches in New York City could be set down right inside the Cathedral
of St. Peter's, and forty thousand people can walk about in the
Cathedral and not be crowded at all."
"Oh, dear! We shall get lost in such a big place!" exclaimed May.
But when they were once inside the great cathedral, it did not seem so
large as they had expected. Not until they had walked around one of
the great pillars which support the high dome did they realize how
very, very large the cathedral was. They had to take as many steps in
walking around that one pillar as they would have taken in walking
around their own home in America. And there were four of these
great pillars, besides many smaller ones. On some of the pillars there
were marble figures of babies as large as men, and figures of men as
large as giants, while each of the many chapels along the two sides of
the cathedral were the size of small churches.
"Is this great church named for St. Peter whom we read about in the
Bible?" asked Molly.
"Yes," answered her father. "And he is supposed to be buried under
this beautiful altar. See, there is an old bronze statue of him on the
side of that pillar."
"And look! A woman is lifting up her baby to kiss the foot of the
statue!" exclaimed May. "Why is she doing that, father?"
"She wants to show her honor and love for St. Peter. And she wants to
teach her child to honor him, too," said her father. "One of the great
bronze toes is nearly worn away, so many people have kissed it. Now
are you ready to do something almost as hard as climbing a mountain?"
"Of course we are! We are ready for anything. What is it, father?"
"Follow me and you will soon find out."
Then they all passed through a small door on one side of the great
church and began to go up some broad, winding stairs. They climbed up
and up and up, until it seemed as if they could not climb any higher.
"Would you rather have come up these stairs on a donkey?" asked their
father at last.
"Oh, dear! I don't know," said Molly, laughing. "I guess the Capri
donkeys could come up here all right, but I think I'd rather be on my
own feet. A donkey might get tired and lie down, or turn around and go
back."
"Well, here is a resting place for us," said her father. "We have
climbed as far as the base of the great dome. We can walk around the
gallery now and look down into the church where we stood only a little
while ago."
"How tiny the people look 'way down there! And how high the great dome
still is above us!" exclaimed May.
"It is more than two hundred feet from this gallery to the top of the
dome," said her father. "Shall we climb up there?"
[Illustration: _He carried his little girls by turns_]
"Yes, indeed!" said Molly, who had courage for anything.
Their father did not want the little legs to grow too tired with the
long climb, so he carried his two little Sunbonnet Babies by turns up
the last part of the steep, winding stairs, until they stood on a
small open gallery above the great dome.
The whole city of Rome lay spread out before them like a great map.
They could see the new city with its fine buildings, and the older
city with its narrow streets and crowded houses, and the still
older, dead city, which had lain buried many centuries and now looked
very much like old Pompeii.
[Illustration: _The whole city of Rome lay spread out before them_]
There was the river Tiber with its muddy water flowing lazily along
between the crowded houses. And not far away was the Tomb of Hadrian
and the handsome Bridge of the Holy Angels. Their father pointed out
parts of the ancient stone wall which once surrounded the whole of old
Rome, and St. Paul's Gate, through which Maria said they must
drive in going to visit her father's farm.
Beyond the old city wall they could see miles and miles of level farms
and pastures, and away in the distance rose a line of dark mountains
against a blue sky. It was a big and wonderful view, but Molly and May
soon became more interested in what they saw on the great, flat roof
of the cathedral just below them.
"It looks like a little village down there," said May. "Is it really
the roof of the cathedral?"
"It really is," answered her father. "Those men are busy repairing
different parts of the cathedral and the great palace buildings. They
say there are eleven hundred rooms in that palace. There are art
galleries and museums and chapels in it, and it is also the home of
the Pope, who is the head of the Catholic Church. We must visit the
art galleries some day. There are many beautiful things in them."
"Look, father!" cried May at last. "How dark the sky is growing! It is
going to rain."
"I am afraid it is," said her father. "We must leave this hilltop and
hurry to our hotel."
A few moments later they were out on the beautiful piazza in front of
the cathedral. It had already begun to sprinkle, but they found a
carriage and driver waiting to take them wherever they wanted to go.
"I am sure it will rain hard before we can reach the hotel," said
their mother. "How would you like to drive to a restaurant near by and
have one of our nice tea parties?"
"Oh, we should love it!" exclaimed Molly and May. "It is hungry work
to climb so high."
After a tea party of hot chocolate and bread and butter, they were
rested once more. The shower had passed, and they had a wonderful time
buying Roman beads and sashes and hair ribbons in the gay little shops
along the busy street.
[Illustration: The Story of the Twins]
[Illustration]