THE ROAD TO AMALFI The Hotel Victoria faces the bay of Naples.

Back of it are the famous gardens, and as you emerge from these you find yourself upon the narrow main street of Sorrento, not far from the Square of Tasso.
As our little party entered this street they were immediately espied by the vetturini, or cabmen, who rushed toward them with loud cries while they waved their whips frantically to attract attention.

One tall fellow was dressed in a most imposing uniform of blue and gold, with a high hat bearing a cockade _a la Inglese_ and shiny top boots.

His long legs enabled him to outstrip the others, and in an almost breathless voice he begged Uncle John to choose his carriage: "the besta carrozza ina town!" "We don't want to ride," was the answer.
The cabman implored.

Certainly they must make the Amalfi drive, or to Massa Lubrense or Saint' Agata or at least Il Deserto! The others stood by to listen silently to the discussion, yielding first place to the victor in the race.
Uncle John was obdurate.
"All we want to-day is to see the town," he declared, "We're not going to ride, but walk." "Ah, but the Amalfi road, signore! Surely you will see that." "To-morrow, perhaps; not now." "To-morrow, signore! It is good.