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A pair of statuettes, a golden tobacco-box, a costly jewel-casket, or a pair of richly gemmed horse-pistols the property of some ancient gentleman or dame of emaciated fortune, and which must be sold to keep up the bravery of good clothes and pomade that hid slow starvation went into the shop-window of the ever-obliging apothecary, to be disposed of by tombola.

Their way of keeping it holy, however, with tombolas, horse-races, and fire-works, strikes a heretic, to say the least, oddly. The Roman tombola should be seen in the Piazza Navona democratically; in the Villa Borghese, if not aristocratically at least middle classically, or bourgeois-istically.

Yet, in truth, it was for the Priori themselves that loggia was built, though not by Orcagna as it is said, to provide, perhaps, a lounge in summer for the fathers of the city, and for a place of proclamation that all Florence might hear the laws they had made. Yes, and to-day, too, do they not proclaim the tombola where once they announced a victory?

Exactly like you." He reclined on the table and blew a fat smoke-ring. "And why won't you tell me the numbers? I have dreamt of a red hen that is two hundred and five, and a friend unexpected he means eighty-two. But I try for the Terno this week. So tell me another number." Miss Abbott did not know of the Tombola. His speech terrified her.

My concentration redoubles, my mind is set upon seizing the radiant dawn of truth. Suddenly, in the distance, br-r-r-rum! Br-r-r-rum! Br-r-r-rum! The noise comes nearer, grows louder. Woe upon me! And plague take the Pagoda! Let me explain. To attract custom and push the sale of refreshments, the proprietor of the ball ends the Sunday hop with a tombola.

A placard flutters from the wall, announcing a grand festival, banquet, ball, and artistic tombola in celebration of the eighth anniversary of the bloody revolution of March 18, 1871, under the auspices of the 'Société des Réfugiés de la Commune' 'Family tickets, twenty-five cents, hat-room checks, ten cents' from which we gather that the 'Restaurant du Grand Vatel' has some queer patrons.

Scarce a score of listeners remained, and these of the least promising sort. The minute-hand of the clock was already climbing upward towards eleven. "It's a lost battle," said he, and then taking up the money-box, he turned it out. "Three francs seventy-five!" he cried, "as against four of board and six of railway fares; and no time for the tombola! Elvira, this is Waterloo!"

Scarce a score of listeners remained, and these of the least promising sort. The minute hand of the clock was already climbing upward towards eleven. "It's a lost battle," said he, and then taking up the money-box he turned it out. "Three francs seventy-five!" he cried, "as against four of board and six of railway fares; and no time for the tombola! Elvira, this is Waterloo."