"I feel as if vacation time were over," said Molly, a few days later, as she looked from their window out upon a busy street in Rome. "I should much rather play in the orange garden at Sorrento or climb over the island of Capri with Giorgio and Luisa than to see Rome."

"So should I!" said May. "I am sure there can't be any more surprises as nice as the ones we have had."

"Oh, yes, there can be!" said their father, who overheard what his Sunbonnet Babies were talking about. "There is one big surprise coming, which I believe you will think is even nicer than Sorrento or Capri."

"O father! Is it here in Rome?" asked May.

"No," answered her father. "Not the surprise I am thinking about, though there are many nice ones here. We can drive about the city a little now, and see what it looks like."

"That will be fun," said Molly. "I hope the streets will not be so noisy and dirty as they were in Naples."

They were soon driving through broad streets and narrow streets, through streets where electric cars were speeding along, through old, old streets, and through big beautiful squares. It seemed as if they passed more great stone churches and handsome fountains than they had seen in all their lives before.

Their driver stopped his carriage near one of the largest of the fountains and said they should each throw a penny into the basin of water and take a drink from it before leaving Rome. Then they would surely visit the city again, for the legend says:

"I am not sure yet that I want to come to Rome again," said Molly. "I think I will not throw my penny into the fountain until the last day I am here."

"I will show you something that will make you want to come again," said the driver. "I know what the Americans like."

He then drove them through more narrow streets, until they came to a large square with a fountain in the center of it. This fountain looked like an old Roman war vessel.

Already the Sunbonnet Babies had learned that in Italy a public square is called a piazza, and their driver told them that this square was the Spanish Piazza.

"It should be called the Flower Piazza!" exclaimed May. "It looks like a big flower market. May we buy some of those lovely cherry blossoms?"

"Yes, indeed! Buy all you want," said their driver. "This is only one of our flower markets. There are many others in the city."

"Why are the people waiting on those great stone steps?" asked Molly. "And why do they wear such odd, pretty clothes?"

"Those people are models for artists," answered their driver. "Many of them live in the country and come into the city every pleasant morning. They wait on these steps, hoping artists may come and ask them to pose for their pictures. They are dressed in the old Roman costumes."

"I like their costumes," said May. "I wish your people would all dress that way. How nice that little girl looks with her bright-colored apron and red coral beads. She is barefooted and bareheaded, too."

"See, she is running down the steps with a tall jar on her head. Isn't she lovely? I wonder if she will let us take her picture."

"I will ask her," said May. "Do you suppose that woman is her mother? She is knitting with long, crooked needles. Her cap looks like a white handkerchief laid over her black hair. Perhaps they think father and mother are artists who want to paint them in a picture."

"I will tell them that my little daughters are the artists," said the Sunbonnet Babies' father. "It does not take you so long to make a picture as it does most artists, so I think they will be glad to pose for you."

And they were. When the camera had been snapped, Molly and May each gave the little girl a soldo and said they hoped a real artist would paint a beautiful picture of her soon.

"I should much rather see the picture you have just taken in your queer, black box," said the little Italian girl.

"Would you really like to have us send it to you when it is finished?" asked Molly.

"Oh, yes, thank you! I would take it home to il padre and show him what happens when I come to the big city."

"Where do you live?? asked the Sunbonnet Babies' father.

"We live in the country, two miles beyond the city walls. We go out through St. Paul's Gate. My father has a little farm out there."

"May we drive out to see you some day?" asked the Sunbonnet Babies' father again.

"We should be proud to have you do so, sir," answered the little girl's mother politely.

"We will come next Friday afternoon, if you will be at home that day."

"And we will bring the picture we have just taken," Molly said to her smiling little friend.

"Please tell us what your name is," said May.

"My name is Maria," answered the little girl brightly.

"Why, that is the Italian name for Mary, isn't it? My name is May."

"Addio, Maria! Here are some cherry blossoms for you, and here is a bunch of kisses. Addio!"

Then they drove away, blowing kisses from the tips of their small fingers to the lovely little model standing on the Spanish Flower Steps.

Soon they came to a handsome bridge which crossed the river Tiber. Their driver said this bridge was built by the famous Emperor Hadrian in the year 136. At the end of the bridge was a great round castle, which was also built by Emperor Hadrian, as a burial tomb for himself.

Three hundred years ago ten large stone angels were placed on each side of the long bridge, and another angel was put high on top of the round castle. Since then Hadrian's Tomb is often called the Castle of the Holy Angels, and the bridge is called the Bridge of the Holy Angels.

As Molly and May drove slowly across this fine old bridge between the two rows of angels, they felt very small and very young indeed.

"I wonder if any of the bridges in America will last eighteen hundred years," Molly said thoughtfully. "And what do you suppose the boys and girls were like in those days?"

"I believe they were very much like the Roman children to-day," said her father. "And I am sure those old Roman men must have been very wise to build such fine bridges as this one. In a few moments we shall see the largest church in all the world."

"Why, I thought the largest buildings were all in America," said May.

"The largest and tallest business buildings are there," said her father, "but not the largest churches. Half a dozen of the big churches in New York City could be set down right inside the Cathedral of St. Peter's, and forty thousand people can walk about in the Cathedral and not be crowded at all."

"Oh, dear! We shall get lost in such a big place!" exclaimed May.

But when they were once inside the great cathedral, it did not seem so large as they had expected. Not until they had walked around one of the great pillars which support the high dome did they realize how very, very large the cathedral was. They had to take as many steps in walking around that one pillar as they would have taken in walking around their own home in America. And there were four of these great pillars, besides many smaller ones. On some of the pillars there were marble figures of babies as large as men, and figures of men as large as giants, while each of the many chapels along the two sides of the cathedral were the size of small churches.

"Is this great church named for St. Peter whom we read about in the Bible?" asked Molly.

"Yes," answered her father. "And he is supposed to be buried under this beautiful altar. See, there is an old bronze statue of him on the side of that pillar."

"And look! A woman is lifting up her baby to kiss the foot of the statue!" exclaimed May. "Why is she doing that, father?"

"She wants to show her honor and love for St. Peter. And she wants to teach her child to honor him, too," said her father. "One of the great bronze toes is nearly worn away, so many people have kissed it. Now are you ready to do something almost as hard as climbing a mountain?"

"Of course we are! We are ready for anything. What is it, father?"

"Follow me and you will soon find out."

Then they all passed through a small door on one side of the great church and began to go up some broad, winding stairs. They climbed up and up and up, until it seemed as if they could not climb any higher.

"Would you rather have come up these stairs on a donkey?" asked their father at last.

"Oh, dear! I don't know," said Molly, laughing. "I guess the Capri donkeys could come up here all right, but I think I'd rather be on my own feet. A donkey might get tired and lie down, or turn around and go back."

"Well, here is a resting place for us," said her father. "We have climbed as far as the base of the great dome. We can walk around the gallery now and look down into the church where we stood only a little while ago."

"How tiny the people look 'way down there! And how high the great dome still is above us!" exclaimed May.

"It is more than two hundred feet from this gallery to the top of the dome," said her father. "Shall we climb up there?"

"Yes, indeed!" said Molly, who had courage for anything.

Their father did not want the little legs to grow too tired with the long climb, so he carried his two little Sunbonnet Babies by turns up the last part of the steep, winding stairs, until they stood on a small open gallery above the great dome.

The whole city of Rome lay spread out before them like a great map. They could see the new city with its fine buildings, and the older city with its narrow streets and crowded houses, and the still older, dead city, which had lain buried many centuries and now looked very much like old Pompeii.

There was the river Tiber with its muddy water flowing lazily along between the crowded houses. And not far away was the Tomb of Hadrian and the handsome Bridge of the Holy Angels. Their father pointed out parts of the ancient stone wall which once surrounded the whole of old Rome, and St. Paul's Gate, through which Maria said they must drive in going to visit her father's farm.

Beyond the old city wall they could see miles and miles of level farms and pastures, and away in the distance rose a line of dark mountains against a blue sky. It was a big and wonderful view, but Molly and May soon became more interested in what they saw on the great, flat roof of the cathedral just below them.

"It looks like a little village down there," said May. "Is it really the roof of the cathedral?"

"It really is," answered her father. "Those men are busy repairing different parts of the cathedral and the great palace buildings. They say there are eleven hundred rooms in that palace. There are art galleries and museums and chapels in it, and it is also the home of the Pope, who is the head of the Catholic Church. We must visit the art galleries some day. There are many beautiful things in them."

"Look, father!" cried May at last. "How dark the sky is growing! It is going to rain."

"I am afraid it is," said her father. "We must leave this hilltop and hurry to our hotel."

A few moments later they were out on the beautiful piazza in front of the cathedral. It had already begun to sprinkle, but they found a carriage and driver waiting to take them wherever they wanted to go.

"I am sure it will rain hard before we can reach the hotel," said their mother. "How would you like to drive to a restaurant near by and have one of our nice tea parties?"

"Oh, we should love it!" exclaimed Molly and May. "It is hungry work to climb so high."

After a tea party of hot chocolate and bread and butter, they were rested once more. The shower had passed, and they had a wonderful time buying Roman beads and sashes and hair ribbons in the gay little shops along the busy street.

The Story of the Twins