Three days before, we had considered ourselves millionaires; on that morning we looked around and saw that we were reduced to the ragged edge of poverty.
Our sanguine expectations of realizing immense fortunes were dashed to the ground, and we felt pretty blue.

The new town of Hays had swallowed Rome entirely.

Mr.Rose facetiously remarked that he felt like "the last rose of summer," with all his lovely companions faded and gone, and _he_ left blooming alone.

I told him I was still there, staunch and true, but he replied that that didn't help the matter much.

Thus ends the brief history of the "Rise, Decline and Fall" of Modern Rome.
It having become evident to me that there was very little hope of Rome ever regaining its former splendor and prosperity, I sent my wife and daughter Arta--who had been born at Leavenworth in the latter part of December, 1866--to St.Louis on a visit.