of boughs, which in Italy is the universal sign of an inn for the common people, and entered the bare, smoky room appropriated to travelers.  A long table, with well-worn benches, were the only furniture; we threw our knapsacks on one end of it and sat down, amusing ourselves while supper was preparing, in looking at a number of grotesque charcoal drawings on the wall, which the flaring light of our tall iron lamp revealed to us.  At length the hostess, a kindly-looking woman, with a white handkerchief folded gracefully around her head, brought us a dish of fried eggs, which, with the coarse black bread of the peasants and a basket full of rich grapes, made us an excellent supper.  We slept on mattresses stuffed with corn husks, placed on square iron frames, which are the bedsteads most used in Italy.  A brightly-painted caricature of some saint or a rough crucifix, trimmed with bay leaves, hung at the head of each bed, and under their devout protection we enjoyed a safe and unbroken slumber.

Next morning we set out early to complete the remaining ten miles to Siena.  The only thing of interest on the road, is the ruined wall and battlements of Castiglione, circling a high hill and looking as old as the days of Etruria.  The towers of Siena are seen at some distance, but approaching it from this side, the traveler does not perceive its romantic situation until he arrives.  It stands on a double hill, which is very steep on some sides; the hollow between the two peaks is occupied by the great public square, ten or fifteen feet lower than the rest of the city.  We left our knapsacks at a cafe and sought the celebrated Cathedral, which stands in the highest part of the town, forming with its flat dome and lofty marble tower, an apex to the pyramidal mass of buildings.

The interior is rich and elegantly perfect.  Every part is of black and white marble, in what I should call the striped style, which has a singular but agreeable effect.  The inside of the dome and the vaulted ceilings of the chapels, are of blue, with golden stars; the pavement in the centre is so precious a work that it is kept covered with boards and only shown once a year.  There are some pictures of great value in this Cathedral; one of “The Descent of the Dove,” is worthy of the best days of Italian art.  In an adjoining chamber, with frescoed walls, and a beautiful tesselated pavement, is the library, consisting of a few huge old volumes, which with their brown covers and brazen clasps, look as much like a collection of flat leather trunks as any thing else.  In the centre of the room stands the mutilated group of the Grecian Graces, found in digging the foundation of the Cathedral.  The figures are still beautiful and graceful, with that exquisite curve of outline which is such a charm in the antique statues.  Canova has only perfected the idea in his celebrated group, which is nearly a copy of this.