A clock that played music the "Marcia Reale" and the "Tre Colori" was to be put up; suits of clothes, too; boots, hats, a chair that rocked like a boat on the sea, a revolver ornamented with ivory. Already no one knew when, for no one had missed him he had been to view these treasures. As he spoke of them tongues were loosed and eyes shone with excitement. Money was in the air.

To him Maclaurin applied the lines of Virgil: 'Quamvis ille niger, quamvis tu candidus esses, O formose puer, nimium ne crede colori. Maclaurin wrote an essay against the Homeric tale of 'Troy divine, I believe, for the sole purpose of introducing a happy motto, 'Non anni domuere decem non mille carinæ.

Moore, in his admirable System of Ethicks, reckons this particular Inclination to take a Prejudice against a Man for his Looks, among the smaller Vices in Morality, and, if I remember, gives it the Name of a Prosopolepsia. In Apul. Quaest. Bk. IV. near the close. No. 87. Saturday, June 9, 1711. Steel. ... Nimium ne crede colori. Virg.

He is a weel-grown, weel-favoured laddie, almost as much sae as our ain dear dog Steenie; but we wad say to him, in the words of the Roman bard, 'O formose puer, nimium ne crede colori! Gude pairts are better than gude looks; not that the latter are to be undervalued, but baith should exist in the same person.

Who would have thought that so much devilish malice and Billingsgate could lurk under so much sweetness of countenance and modesty of behaviour? Ah! God help us! Fronti nulla fides nimium ne crede colori but we ought to down on our knees, and bless God for delivering us from the jaws of that painted sepulchre!"

And now he was sleeping forever. She was sitting there waiting for nothing, but she could not realize that yet. She felt as if she must be waiting for something, that something must presently occur, a movement in the bed, a she scarcely knew what. Presently the clock Gaspare had brought from the fair chimed, then played the "Tre Colori."

"Here is a chair for you, signorino. Take it quickly." "At any rate, let us offer them something." "Much better spare your soldi now, signorino, and buy something at the auction. That clock plays the 'Tre Colori' just like a band." "Buy it. Here is some money." He thrust some notes into the boy's ready hand. "Grazie, signorino. Ecco la musica!"

In this benevolent effort to take the burthen from the proprietors of the genuine Ebony, it is fair that the French coadjutor should have his share of the honour. His name is given as HECTOR BOSSANGE; and his shop, if I rightly remember, adorns the Quai Voltaire. So much then for the front, which is good, except the colour. Nimium ne crede colori, says Mr Reprint; and fronti nulla fides, say I.

Then there tinkled forth to join the "Pastorale" the clear, trilling melody of the "Tre Colori." The music in the room ceased abruptly. There was a rustling sound as the player moved. Then Hermione's voice, with something trembling through it that was half a sob, half a little burst of happy laughter, called out: "Gaspare, how dare you interrupt my concert?" "Signora!

Then we will eat something and we will start for home." The boy darted away towards the watercourse. His heart was light again. He had something to do for the signora, something that would make her very happy. Ah, when she heard the clock playing the "Tre Colori"! Mamma mia! He tore towards the watercourse in an agony lest he should be too late. Night was falling over the fair.