BURIED CITIES, PART 1 POMPEII BY JENNIE HALL Author of "Four Old Greeks, " Etc. Instructor in History and English inthe Francis W. Parker School, Chicago With Many Drawings and Photographs From Original Sources The publishers are grateful to the estate of Miss Jennie Hall and to hermany friends for assistance in planning the publication of this book. Especial thanks are due to Miss Nell C. Curtis of the Lincoln School, New York City, for helping to finish Miss Hall's work of choosing thepictures, and to Miss Irene I. Cleaves of the Francis Parker School, Chicago, who wrote the captions. It was Miss Katharine Taylor, now ofthe Shady Hill School, Cambridge, who brought these stories to ourattention. FOREWORD: TO BOYS AND GIRLS Do you like to dig for hidden treasure? Have you ever found Indianarrowheads or Indian pottery? I knew a boy who was digging a cave ina sandy place, and he found an Indian grave. With his own hands heuncovered the bones and skull of some brave warrior. That brown skullwas more precious to him than a mint of money. Another boy I knew wasmaking a cave of his own. Suddenly he dug into an older one made yearsbefore. He crawled into it with a leaping heart and began to explore. Hefound an old carpet and a bit of burned candle. They proved that someone had lived there. What kind of a man had he been and what kindof life had he lived--black or white or red, robber or beggar oradventurer? Some of us were walking in the woods one day when we saw abone sticking out of the ground. Luckily we had a spade, and we set towork digging. Not one moment was the tool idle. First one bone and thenanother came to light and among them a perfect horse's skull. We felt asthough we had rescued Captain Kidd's treasure, and we went home drapedin bones. Suppose that instead of finding the bones of a horse we had uncovered agold-wrapped king. Suppose that instead of a deserted cave that boyhad dug into a whole buried city with theaters and mills and shops andbeautiful houses. Suppose that instead of picking up an Indian arrowheadyou could find old golden vases and crowns and bronze swords lying inthe earth. If you could be a digger and a finder and could choose yourfind, would you choose a marble statue or a buried bakeshop with breadtwo thousand years old still in the oven or a king's grave filled withgolden gifts? It is of such digging and such finding that this booktells. CONTENTS FOREWORD: To BOYS AND GIRLS POMPEII 1. The Greek Slave and the Little Roman Boy 2. Vesuvius 3. Pompeii Today _Pictures of Pompeii:_ A Roman Boy The City of Naples Vesuvius in Eruption Pompeii from an Airplane Nola Street; the Stabian Gate In the Street of Tombs The Amphitheater; the Baths Temple of Apollo; School of the Gladiators The Smaller Theater A Sacrifice Scene in the Forum; Hairpins; Bath Appliances Peristyle of the House of the Vettii Lady Playing a Harp Kitchen of the House of the Vettii Kitchen Utensils; Centaur Cup The House of the Tragic Poet Mosaic of Watch Dog The House of Diomede A Bakery; Section of a Mill Lucius Cæcilius Jueundus Bronze Candleholder The Dancing Faun Hermes in Repose The Arch of Nero [Illustration: Line Art of Bronze Lamp. Caption: _Bronze Lamps_. Thebowl held olive oil. A wick came out at the nozzle. These lamps gave adim and smoky light. ] THE GREEK SLATE AND THE LITTLE ROMAN BOY Ariston, the Greek slave, was busily painting. He stood in a little roomwith three smooth walls. The fourth side was open upon a court. A littlefountain splashed there. Above stretched the brilliant sky of Italy. TheAugust sun shone hotly down. It cut sharp shadows of the columns on thecement floor. This was the master's room. The artist was painting thewalls. Two were already gay with pictures. They showed the mighty deedsof warlike Herakles. Here was Herakles strangling the lion, Herakleskilling the hideous hydra, Herakles carrying the wild boar on hisshoulders, Herakles training the mad horses. But now the boy waspainting the best deed of all--Herakles saving Alcestis from death. Hehad made the hero big and beautiful. The strong muscles lay smooth inthe great body. One hand trailed the club. On the other arm hung thefamous lion skin. With that hand the god led Alcestis. He turned hishead toward her and smiled. On the ground lay Death, bruised andbleeding. One batlike black wing hung broken. He scowled after the heroand the woman. In the sky above him stood Apollo, the lord of life, looking down. But the picture of the god was only half finished. Thefigure was sketched in outline. Ariston was rapidly laying on paint withhis little brushes. His eyes glowed with Apollo's own fire. His lipswere open, and his breath came through them pantingly. "O god of beauty, god of Hellas, god of freedom, help me!" he halfwhispered while his brush worked. For he had a great plan in his mind. Here he was, a slave in this richRoman's house. Yet he was a free-born son of Athens, from a family ofpainters. Pirates had brought him here to Pompeii, and had sold him as aslave. His artist's skill had helped him, even in this cruel land. Forhis master, Tetreius, loved beauty. The Roman had soon found that hisyoung Greek slave was a painter. He had said to his steward: "Let this boy work at the mill no longer. He shall paint the walls of myprivate room. " So he had talked to Ariston about what the pictures should be. The Greekhad found that this solemn, frowning Roman was really a kind man. Thenhope had sprung up in his breast and had sung of freedom. "I will do my best to please him, " he had thought. "When all the wallsare beautiful, perhaps he will smile at my work. Then I will clasp hisknees. I will tell him of my father, of Athens, of how I was stolen. Perhaps he will send me home. " Now the painting was almost done. As he worked, a thousand pictures wereflashing through his mind. He saw his beloved old home in lovely Athens. He felt his father's hand on his, teaching him to paint. He gazed againat the Parthenon, more beautiful than a dream. Then he saw himselfplaying on the fishing boat on that terrible holiday. He saw the pirateship sail swiftly from behind a rocky point and pounce upon them. He sawhimself and his friends dragged aboard. He felt the tight rope on hiswrists as they bound him and threw him under the deck. He saw himselfstanding here in the market place of Pompeii. He heard himself sold fora slave. At that thought he threw down his brush and groaned. But soon he grew calmer. Perhaps the sweet drip of the fountain cooledhis hot thoughts. Perhaps the soft touch of the sun soothed his heart. He took up his brushes again and set to work. "The last figure shall be the most beautiful of all, " he said tohimself. "It is my own god, Apollo. " So he worked tenderly on the face. With a few little strokes he made themouth smile kindly. He made the blue eyes deep and gentle. He lifted thegolden curls with a little breeze from Olympos. The god's smile cheeredhim. The beautiful colors filled his mind. He forgot his sorrows. Heforgot everything but his picture. Minute by minute it grew under hismoving brush. He smiled into the god's eyes. Meantime a great noise arose in the house. There were cries of fear. There was running of feet. "A great cloud!" "Earthquake!" "Fire and hail!" "Smoke from hell!" "Theend of the world!" "Run! Run!" And men and women, all slaves, ran screaming through the house and outof the front door. But the painter only half heard the cries. His ears, his eyes, his thoughts were full of Apollo. For a little the house was still. Only the fountain and the shadows andthe artist's brush moved there. Then came a great noise as though thesky had split open. The low, sturdy house trembled. Ariston's brush wasshaken and blotted Apollo's eye. Then there was a clattering on thecement floor as of a million arrows. Ariston ran into the court. Fromthe heavens showered a hail of gray, soft little pebbles like beans. They burned his upturned face. They stung his bare arms. He gave a cryand ran back under the porch roof. Then he heard a shrill call above allthe clattering. It came from the far end of the house. Ariston ran backinto the private court. There lay Caius, his master's little sick son. His couch was under the open sky, and the gray hail was pelting downupon him. He was covering his head with his arms and wailing. "Little master!" called Ariston. "What is it? What has happened to us?""Oh, take me!" cried the little boy. "Where are the others?" asked Ariston. "They ran away, " answered Caius. "They were afraid, Look! O-o-h!" He pointed to the sky and screamed with terror. Ariston looked. Behind the city lay a beautiful hill, green with trees. But now from the flat top towered a huge, black cloud. It rose straightlike a pine tree and then spread its black branches over the heavens. And from that cloud showered these hot, pelting pebbles of pumice stone. "It is a volcano, " cried Ariston. He had seen one spouting fire as he had voyaged on the pirate ship. "I want my father, " wailed the little boy. Then Ariston remembered that his master was away from home. He had gonein a ship to Rome to get a great physician for his sick boy. He had leftCaius in the charge of his nurse, for the boy's mother was dead. Butnow every slave had turned coward and had run away and left the littlemaster to die. Ariston pulled the couch into one of the rooms. Here the roof kept offthe hail of stones. "Your father is expected home to-day, master Caius, " said the Greek. "Hewill come. He never breaks his word. We will wait for him here. Thisstrange shower will soon be over. " So he sat on the edge of the couch, and the little Roman laid his headin his slave's lap and sobbed. Ariston watched the falling pebbles. Theywere light and full of little holes. Every now and then black rocks ofthe size of his head whizzed through the air. Sometimes one fell intothe open cistern and the water hissed at its heat. The pebbles lay pileda foot deep all over the courtyard floor. And still they fell thick andfast. "Will it never stop?" thought Ariston. Several times the ground swayed under him. It felt like the moving of aship in a storm. Once there was thunder and a trembling of the house. Ariston was looking at a little bronze statue that stood on a tall, slender column. It tottered to and fro in the earthquake. Then it fell, crashing into the piled-up stones. In a few minutes the falling showerhad covered it. Ariston began to be more afraid. He thought of Death as he had paintedhim in his picture. He imagined that he saw him hiding behind a column. He thought he heard his cruel laugh. He tried to look up toward themountain, but the stones pelted him down. He felt terribly alone. Wasall the rest of the world dead? Or was every one else in some safeplace? "Come, Caius, we must get away, " he cried. "We shall be buried here. " He snatched up one of the blankets from the couch. He threw the endsover his shoulders and let a loop hang at his back. He stood the sickboy in this and wound the ends around them both. Caius was tied to hisslave's back. His heavy little head hung on Ariston's shoulder. Then theGreek tied a pillow over his own head. He snatched up a staff and ranfrom the house. He looked at his picture as he passed. He thought hesaw Death half rise from the ground. But Apollo seemed to smile at hisartist. At the front door Ariston stumbled. He found the street piled deep withthe gray, soft pebbles. He had to scramble up on his hands and knees. From the house opposite ran a man. He looked wild with fear. He wasclutching a little statue of gold. Ariston called to him, "Which way tothe gate?" But the man did not hear. He rushed madly on. Ariston followed him. Itcheered the boy a little to see that somebody else was still alive inthe world. But he had a hard task. He could not run. The soft pebblescrunched under his feet and made him stumble. He leaned far forwardunder his heavy burden. The falling shower scorched his bare arms andlegs. Once a heavy stone struck him on his cushioned head, and he fell. But he was up in an instant. He looked around bewildered. His head wasringing. The air was hot and choking. The sun was gone. The shower wasblinding. Whose house was this? The door stood open. The court wasempty. Where was the city gate? Would he never get out? He did not knowthis street. Here on the corner was a wine shop with its open sides. Butno men stood there drinking. Wine cups were tipped over and broken onthe marble counter. Ariston stood in a daze and watched the winespilling into the street. Then a crowd came rushing past him. It was evidently a family fleeingfor their lives. Their mouths were open as though they were crying. ButAriston could not hear their voices. His ears shook with the roar of themountain. An old man was hugging a chest. Gold coins were spilling outas he ran. Another man was dragging a fainting woman. A young girl ranahead of them with white face and streaming hair. Ariston stumbled onafter this company. A great black slave came swiftly around a corner andran into him and knocked him over, but fled on without looking back. Asthe Greek boy fell forward, the rough little pebbles scoured his face. He lay there moaning. Then he began to forget his troubles. His achingbody began to rest. He thought he would sleep. He saw Apollo smiling. Then Caius struggled and cried out. He pulled at the blanket and triedto free himself. This roused Ariston, and he sat up. He felt the hotpebbles again. He heard the mountain roar. He dragged himself to hisfeet and started on. Suddenly the street led him out into a broad space. Ariston looked around him. All about stretched wide porches with theircolumns. Temple roofs rose above them. Statues stood high on theirpedestals. He was in the forum. The great open square was crowded withhurrying people. Under one of the porches Ariston saw the money changerslocking their boxes. From a wide doorway ran several men. They werecarrying great bundles of woolen cloth, richly embroidered and dyedwith precious purple. Down the great steps of Jupiter's temple ran apriest. Under his arms he clutched two large platters of gold. Men wererunning across the forum dragging bags behind them. Every one seemed trying to save his most precious things. And every onewas hurrying to the gate at the far end. Then that was the way out!Ariston picked up his heavy feet and ran. Suddenly the earth swayedunder him. He heard horrible thunder. He thought the mountain wasfalling upon him. He looked behind. He saw the columns of the porchtottering. A man was running out from one of the buildings. But as heran, the walls crashed down. The gallery above fell cracking. He wasburied. Ariston saw it all and cried out in horror. Then he prayed: "O Lord Poseidon, shaker of the earth, save me! I am a Greek!" Then he came out of the forum. A steep street sloped down to a gate. Ariver of people was pouring out there. The air was full of cries. Thegreat noise of the crowd made itself heard even in the noise of thevolcano. The streets were full of lost treasures. Men pushed and felland were trodden upon. But at last Ariston passed through the gatewayand was out of the city. He looked about. "It is no better, " he sobbed to himself. The air was thicker now. The shower had changed to hot dust as fineas ashes. It blurred his eyes. It stopped his nostrils. It choked hislungs. He tore his chiton from top to bottom and wrapped it about hismouth and nose. He looked back at Caius and pulled the blanket over hishead. Behind him a huge cloud was reaching out long black arms from themountain to catch him. Ahead, the sun was only a red wafer in the showerof ashes. Around him people were running off to hide under rocks ortrees or in the country houses. Some were running, running anywhere toget away. Out of one courtyard dashed a chariot. The driver was lashinghis horses. He pushed them ahead through the crowd. He knocked peopleover, but he did not stop to see what harm he had done. Curses flewafter him. He drove on down the road. Ariston remembered when he himself had been dragged up here two yearsago from the pirate ship. "This leads to the sea, " he thought. "I will go there. Perhaps I shallmeet my master, Tetreius. He will come by ship. Surely I shall find him. The gods will send him to me. O blessed gods!" But what a sea! It roared and tossed and boiled. While Ariston looked, a ship was picked up and crushed and swallowed. The sea poured up thesteep shore for hundreds of feet. Then it rushed back and left itsstrange fish gasping on the dry land. Great rocks fell from the sky, and steam rose up as they splashed into the water. The sun was growingfainter. The black cloud was coming on. Soon it would be dark. And thenwhat? Ariston lay down where the last huge wave had cooled the ground. "It is all over, Caius, " he murmured. "I shall never see Athens again. " For a while there were no more earthquakes. The sea grew a little lesswild. Then the half-fainting Ariston heard shouts. He lifted his head. A small boat had come ashore. The rowers had leaped out. They weredragging it up out of reach of the waves. "How strange!" thought Ariston. "They are not running away. They must bebrave. We are all cowards. " "Wait for me here!" cried a lordly voice to the rowers. When he heard that voice Ariston struggled to his feet and called. "Marcus Tetreius! Master!" He saw the man turn and run toward him. Then the boy toppled over andlay face down in the ashes. When he came to himself he felt a great shower of water in his face. Theburden was gone from his back. He was lying in a row boat, and the boatwas falling to the bottom of the sea. Then it was flung up to the skies. Tetreius was shouting orders. The rowers were streaming with sweat andsea water. In some way or other they all got up on the waiting ship. It alwaysseemed to Ariston as though a wave had thrown him there. Or had Poseidoncarried him? At any rate, the great oars of the galley were flying. Hecould hear every rower groan as he pulled at his oar. The sails, too, were spread. The master himself stood at the helm. His face was onegreat frown. The boat was flung up and down like a ball. Then felldarkness blacker than night. "Who can steer without sun or stars?" thought the boy. Then he remembered the look on his master's face as he stood at thetiller. Such a look Ariston had painted on Herakles' face as hestrangled the lion. "He will get us out, " thought the slave. For an hour the swift ship fought with the waves. The oarsmen wererowing for their lives. The master's arm was strong, and his heart wasnot for a minute afraid. The wind was helping. At last they reached calmwaters. "Thanks be to the gods!" cried Tetreius. "We are out of that boilingpot. " At his words fire shot out of the mountain. It glowed red in the dustyair. It flung great red arms across the sky after the ship. Every manand spar and oar on the vessel seemed burning in its light. Then thefire died, and thick darkness swallowed everything. Ariston's heartseemed smothered in his breast. He heard the slaves on the rowers'benches scream with fear. Then he heard their leader crying to them. Heheard a whip whiz through the air and strike on bare shoulders. Thenthere was a crash as though the mountain had clapped its hands. Athicker shower of ashes filled the air. But the rowers were at theiroars again. The ship was flying. So for two hours or more Tetreius and his men fought for safety. Thenthey came out into fresher air and calmer water. Tetreius left therudder. "Let the men rest and thank the gods, " he said to his overseer. "We have come up out of the grave. " When Ariston heard that, he remembered the Death he had left paintedon his master's wall. By that time the picture was surely buried understones and ashes. The boy covered his face with his ragged chiton andwept. He hardly knew what he was crying for--the slavery, the picture, the buried city, the fear of that horrid night, the sorrows of thepeople left back there, his father, his dear home in Athens. At lasthe fell asleep. The night was horrible with dreams--fire, earthquake, strangling ashes, cries, thunder, lightning. But his tired body heldhim asleep for several hours. Finally he awoke. He was lying on a softmattress. A warm blanket covered him. Clean air filled his nostrils. Thegentle light of dawn lay upon his eyes. A strange face bent over him. "It is only weariness, " a kind voice was saying. "He needs food and restmore than medicine. " Then Ariston saw Tetreius, also, bending over him. The slave leaped tohis feet. He was ashamed to be caught asleep in his master's presence. He feared a frown for his laziness. "My picture is finished, master, " he cried, still half asleep. "And so is your slavery, " said Tetreius, and his eyes shone. "It was not a slave who carried my son out of hell on his back. It was ahero. " He turned around and called, "Come hither, my friends. " Three Roman gentlemen stepped up. They looked kindly upon Ariston. "This is the lad who saved my son, " said Tetreius. "I call you towitness that he is no longer a slave. Ariston, I send you from my hand afree man. " He struck his hand lightly on the Greek's shoulder, as all Roman mastersdid when they freed a slave. Ariston cried aloud with joy. He sank tohis knees weeping. But Tetreius went on. "This kind physician says that Caius will live. But he needs good airand good nursing. He must go to some one of Aesculapius' holy places. Heshall sleep in the temple and sit in the shady porches, and walk in thesacred groves. The wise priests will give him medicines. The god willsend healing dreams. Do you know of any such place, Ariston?" The Greek thought of the temple and garden of Aesculapius on the sunnyside of the Acropolis at home in Athens. But he could not speak. Hegazed hungrily into Tetreius' eyes. The Roman smiled. "Ariston, this ship is bound for Athens! All my life I have lovedher--her statues, her poems, her great deeds. I have wished that my sonmight learn from her wise men. The volcano has buried my home, Ariston. But my wealth and my friends and my son are aboard this ship. What doyou say, my friend? Will you be our guide in Athens?" Ariston leaped upfrom his knees. A fire of joy burned in his eyes. He stretched his handsto the sky. "O blessed Herakles, " he cried, "again thou hast conquered Death. Thoudidst snatch us from the grave of Pompeii. Give health to this Romanboy. O fairest Athena, shed new beauty upon our violet crowned Athens. For there is coming to visit her the best of men, my master Tetreius. " [Illustration: _A Marble Table_: The lions' heads were painted yellow. You can see a table much like this in the garden pictured later. ] VESUVIUS So a living city was buried in a few hours. Wooded hills and greenfields lay covered under great ash heaps. Ever since that terribleeruption Vesuvius has been restless. Sometimes she has been quiet fora hundred years or more and men have almost forgotten that she everthundered and spouted and buried cities. But all at once she would moveagain. She would shoot steam and ashes into the sky. At night firewould leap out of her top. A few times she sent out dust and lava anddestroyed houses and fields. A man who lived five hundred years afterPompeii was destroyed described Vesuvius as she was in his time. Hesaid: "This mountain is steep and thick with woods below. Above, it is verycraggy and wild. At the top is a deep cave. It seems to reach the bottomof the mountain. If you peep in you can see fire. But this ordinarilykeeps in and does not trouble the people. But sometimes the mountainbellows like an ox. Soon after it casts out huge masses of cinders. Ifthese catch a man, he hath no way to save his life. If they fall uponhouses, the roofs are crushed by the weight. If the wind blow stiff, the ashes rise out of sight and are carried to far countries. But thisbellowing comes only every hundred years or thereabout. And the airaround the mountain is pure. None is more healthy. Physicians sendthither sick men to get well. " The ashes that had covered Pompeii changed to rich soil. Green vinesand shrubs and trees sprang up and covered it, and flowers made it gay. Therefore people said to themselves: "After all, she is a good old mountain. There will never be anothereruption while we are alive. " So villages grew up around her feet. Farmers came and built littlehouses and planted crops and were happy working the fertile soil. Theydid not dream that they were living above a buried city, that the rootsof their vines sucked water from an old Roman house, that buried statueslay gazing up toward them as they worked. About three hundred years ago came another terrible eruption. Againthere were earthquakes. Again the mountain bellowed. Again black cloudsturned day into night. Lightning flashed from cloud to cloud. Tempestsof hot rain fell. The sea rushed back and forth on the shore. The wholetop of the mountain was blown out or sank into the melting pot. Sevenrivers of red-hot lava poured down the slopes. They flowed for fivemiles and fell into the sea. On the way they set fire to forests andcovered five little villages. Thousands of people were killed. Since that time Vesuvius has been very active. Almost every year therehave been eruptions with thunder and earthquakes and showers and lava. A few of these have done much damage. [Footnote: In this year, 1922, Vesuvius has been very active for the first time since 1906. It has beencausing considerable alarm in Naples. A new cone, 230 feet high, hasdeveloped. --Ed. ] And even on her calmest days a cloud has always hungabove the mountain top. Sometimes it has been thin and white--a cloud ofsteam. Sometimes it has been black and curling--a cloud of dust. Vesuvius is a dangerous thing, but very beautiful. It stands tall andpointed and graceful against a lovely sky. Its little cloud waves fromit like a plume. At night the mountain is swallowed by the dark. Butthe red rivers down its slopes glare in the sky. It is beautiful andterrible like a tiger. Thousands of people have loved it. They haveclimbed it and looked down its crater. It is like looking into the heartof the earth. One of these travelers wrote of his visit in 1793. Hesaid: "For many days Vesuvius has been in action. I have watched it fromNaples. It is wonderfully beautiful and always changing. On one day hugeclouds poured out of the top. They hung in the sky far above, white assnow. Suddenly a cloud of smoke rushed out of another mouth. It was asblack as ink. The black column rose tall and curling beside the snowyclouds. That was a picture in black and white. But at another time I sawone in bright colors. "On a certain night there were towers and curls and waves and spires offlames leaping from the top of the mountain. Millions of red-hot stoneswere shot into the sky. They sailed upward for hundreds of feet, thencurved and fell like skyrockets. I looked through my telescope and sawliquid lava boiling and bubbling over the crater's edge. I could see itsplash upon the rocks and glide slowly down the sides of the cone. Thewhole top of the mountain was red with melted rock. And above it wavedthe changing flames of red, orange, yellow, blue. "On another night, as I was getting into bed, I felt an earthquake. Ilooked out of my window toward Vesuvius. All the top was glowing withred-hot matter. A terrible roaring came from the mountain. In an instantfire shot high into the air. The red column curved and showered thewhole cone. In half a minute came another earthquake shock. My doors andwindows rattled. Things were shaken from my table to the floor. Thencame the thunder of an explosion from the mountain and another showerof fire. After a few seconds there were noises like the trampling ofhorses' hoofs. It was, of course, the noise of the shot-out stonesfalling upon the rocks of the mountainsides eight miles away. "I decided to ascend the volcano and see the crater from which all theseinteresting things came. A few friends went with me. For most of the waywe traveled on horses. After two or three hours we reached the bottom ofthe cone of rocks and ashes. From there we had to go on foot. We wentover to the river of red-hot lava. We planned to walk up along its edge. But the hot rock was smoking, and the wind blew the smoke into ourfaces. A thick mist of fine ashes from the crater almost suffocated us. Sulphur fumes blew toward us and choked us. I said, "'We must cross the stream of lava. On the other side the wind will nottrouble us. ' "'Cross that melted rock?' my friends cried out. 'We should sink into itand be burned alive. ' "But as we stood talking great stones were thrown out of the volcano. They rolled down the mountainside close to us. If they had struck usit would have been death. There was only one way to save ourselves. Icovered my face with my hat and rushed across the stream of lava. Themelted rock was so thick and heavy that I did not sink in. I only burnedmy boots and scorched my hands. My friends followed me. On that side wewere safe. We climbed for half an hour. Then we came to the head of ourred river. It did not flow over the edge of the crater. Many feet downfrom the top it had torn a hole through the cone. I shall never forgetthe sight as long as I live. There was a vast arch in the black rock. From this arch rushed a clear torrent of lava. It flowed smoothly likehoney. It glowed with all the splendor of the sun. It looked thin likegolden water. "'I could stir it with a stick, ' said one of my friends. "'I doubt it, ' I said. 'See how slowly it flows. It must be very thickand heavy. ' "To test it we threw pebbles into it. They did not sink, but floated onlike corks. We rolled in heavier stones of seventy or eighty pounds. They only made shallow dents in the stream and floated down with thecurrent. A great rock of three hundred pounds lay near. I raised it uponend and let it fall into the lava. Very slowly it sank and disappeared. "As the stream flowed on it spread out wider over the mountain. Fartherdown the slope it grew darker and harder. It started from the arch likemelted gold. Then it changed to orange, to bright red, to dark red, tobrown, as it cooled. At the lower end it was black and hard and brokenlike cinders. "We climbed a little higher above the arch. There was a kind of chimneyin the rock. Smoke and stream were coming out of it. I went close. Thefumes of sulphur choked me. I reached out and picked some lumps of puresulphur from the edge of the rock. For one moment the smoke ceased. Iheld my breath and looked down the hole. I saw the glare of red-hot lavaflowing beneath. The mountain was a pot, full of boiling rock. " Another man writes of a visit in 1868, a quieter year. "At first we climbed gentle slopes through vineyards and fields andvillages. Sometimes we came suddenly upon a black line in a greenmeadow. A few years before it had flowed down red-hot. Further up wereached large stretches of rock. Here wild vines and lupines weregrowing in patches where the lava had decayed into soil. Then camebare slopes with dark hollow and sharp ridges. We walked on old stifflava-streams. Sometimes we had to plod through piles of coarse, porouscinders. Sometimes we climbed over tangled, lumpy beds of twisted, shinyrock. Sometimes we looked into dark arched tunnels. Red streams hadonce flowed out of them. A few times we passed near fresh cracks in themountain. Here steam puffed out. "At last we reached a broad, hot piece of ground. Here were smokingholes. The night before I had looked at them with a telescope from thefoot of the mountain. I had seen red rivers flowing from them. Now theywere empty. Last night's lava lay on the slope, cooled and black. Iwas standing on it. My feet grew hot. I had to keep moving. The air Ibreathed was warm and smelled like that of an iron foundry. I pushed mypole into a crack in the rock. The wood caught fire. I was standing on athin crust. What was below? I broke out a piece of the hard lava. A redspot glared up at me. Under the crust red-hot lava was still flowing. Iknew that it would be several years before it would be perfectly cool. " So for three centuries people have watched Vesuvius at work. But she ismuch older than that--thousands of years older--older than any city orcountry or people in the world. In all that time she has poured outmillions of tons of matter--lava, huge glassy boulders, little pebblesof pumice stone, long shining hairs, fine dust or ashes. All thesethings are different forms of melted rock. Sometimes the steam blows theliquid into fine dust; sometimes it breaks it into little pieces andfills them with bubbles. At another time the steam is not so strong andonly pushes the stuff out gently over the crater's edge. Many differentminerals are found in these rocks--iron, copper, lead, mica, zinc, sulphur. Some pieces are beautiful in color--blue, green, red, yellow. Precious stones have sometimes been found--garnets, topaz, quartz, tourmaline, lapis lazuli. But most of the stone is dull black or brownor gray. All this heavy matter drops close to the mountain. And on calm days theashes, also, fall near at home. Indeed, the volcano has built up its ownmountain. But a heavy wind often carries the fine dust for hundreds ofmiles. Once it was blown as far as Constantinople and it darkened thesun and frightened people there. Some of the ashes fall into the sea. For years the currents carry them about from shore to shore. At lastthey settle to the bottom and make clay or sand or mud. The materiallies there for thousands of years and is hard packed into a soft finegrained rock, called tufa. The city of Naples to-day is built of suchstone that once lay under the sea. An earthquake long ago lifted theocean bottom and turned it into dry land. Now men live upon it and cutstreets in it and grow crops on it. So for many miles about, Vesuvius has been making earth. Her ashes liehundreds of feet deep. Men dig wells and still find only material thathas been thrown out of the volcano. When this matter grows old and liesunder the sun and rain it turns to good soil. The acids of water and airand plants eat into it. Rain wears it away. Plant roots crack the rocksopen. The top layer becomes powdered and rotted and mixed with vegetableloam and is fertile soil. So the country all around the volcano is arich garden. Tomatoes, melons, grapes, olives, figs, cover the land. But Vesuvius alone has not made all this ground. She is in a nest ofvolcanoes. They have all been at work like her, spouting ashes andpumice and rocks and lava. Ten miles away is a wide stretch of countrywhere there are more than a dozen old craters. Twenty miles out in theblue bay a volcano stands up out of the water. A hundred miles southis a group of small volcanic islands. They have hot springs. One has avolcano that spouts every five or six minutes. At night it is like alighthouse for sailors. One of these Islands is only two thousand yearsold. The men of Pompeii saw it pushed up out of the sea during anearthquake. A little farther south is Mt. Aetna in Sicily. It is agreater mountain than Vesuvius and has done more work than she has done. So all the southern part of Italy seems to be the home of volcanoes andearthquakes. There are many other such places scattered over the world--Iceland, Mexico, South America, Japan, the Sandwich Islands. Here the sameterrible play is going on--thunder, clouds, falling ashes, scaldingrain, flowing lava. The earth is being turned inside out, and men arelearning what she is made of. [ILLUSTRATION: _Bronze lampholder_: Five lamps hung from the branchesof this bronze tree. It was twenty inches high. ] POMPEII TO-DAY Years came and went and changed the world. The old gods died, and thenew religion of Christ grew strong. The old temples fell into ruins, andnew churches were built in their places. Instead of the old Roman in hiswhite toga came merchants in crimson velvet and knights in steel armorand gentlemen in ruffles and modern men in plain clothes. Among all these changes, Pompeii was almost forgotten. But after a longwhile people began to be much interested in ancient Italy. They read oldRoman books, and learned of her wonderful cities. They began to dig hereand there and find beautiful statues and vases and jewels. They read thestory of Pompeii in an old Roman book--a whole city suddenly buried justas her people had left her! "There we should find treasures!" they said. "We should see houses, temples, shops, streets, as they were seventeen hundred years ago. Weshould find them full of statues and rich things. Perhaps we should findsome of the people who lived in ancient days. But where to dig?" Their question was answered by accident. At that time certain men weremaking a tunnel to carry spring water from the hills across the countryto a little town near Naples. The tunnel happened to pass over buriedPompeii. They dug up some blocks of stone with Latin inscriptions carvedon them. After that other people found little ancient relics near thesame place. "This must be where Pompeii lies buried, " the wise men said. They began to excavate. That was about two hundred years ago. Ever sincethat time the work has gone on. Sometimes people have been discouragedand have given up. At other times six hundred men have been workingbusily. Kings have given money. Emperors and princes and queens havevisited the excavations. Artists have made pictures of the ruins, andscholars have written books about them. But it is a great task touncover a whole city that is buried ten or twelve feet deep. Theexcavation is not yet finished. Perhaps when you are old men and womenthe work will be completed, and a whole Roman city will be open to youreyes. But even as it is to-day, that ghost of a city is among the world'swonders. There is the thick stone wall that goes all about the town. Onits wide top the soldiers used to stand to fight in ancient days. Nowthe stones are fallen; its towers are broken; its gates are open. Yetthere the battered little giant stands at its task of protecting thetown. Out of its eight gates stretch the paved streets. Perhaps some day you will cross the ocean to visit this "dead city. "It lies on a slope at the foot of Vesuvius. Behind stands the tall, graceful volcano with its floating feather of steam and smoke. In frontlies a little plain, and beyond it a long ridge of steep mountains. Offat the side shines the dark blue sea with island peaks rising out of it. On hillsides and plain are green vineyards and dark forests dotted withwhite farmhouses. In some places there are high mounds of dirt outside the city wall. Theyare made by the ashes that have been dug out by the excavators and piledhere. If you climb one of them you will be able to look over the city. You will find it a little place--less than a mile long and half a milewide inside its ragged wall. And yet many thousand people used to livehere. So the houses had to be crowded together. You will see no grassylawns nor vacant lots nor playgrounds nor parks with pleasant trees. Many narrow streets cross one another and cut the city into solid blocksof buildings. You will be confused because you will see thousands ofbroken walls standing up, but no roofs. They are gone--crushed by thepiling ashes long ago. At last you will come down and go in at one of the gates through therough, thick wall, past the empty watch towers. You will tread the verypaving stones that men's feet trampled nineteen hundred years ago asthey fled from the volcano. You will climb a steep, narrow street. Thisis the street the fishermen and sailors used in olden times when theycame in from the river or sea, carrying baskets of fish or leading mulesloaded with goods from their ships. This is the street where peoplepoured out to the sea on that terrible day of the eruption. You will pass a ruined temple of Apollo with standing columns and lonelyaltar and steps that lead to a room that is gone. A little farther onyou will come out into a large open paved space. It is the forum. Thisused to be the busiest place in all Pompeii. At certain hours of the dayit was filled with little tables and with merchants calling out and withgentlemen and slaves buying good's. But now it is empty and very still. Around the sides a few beautiful columns are yet standing with carvedmarble at the top connecting them. But others lie broken, and most ofthem are gone entirely. This is all that is left of the porches wheremen used to walk and talk of business and war and politics and gossip. At one end of the forum is a high stone platform and wide stone stepsleading up to a row of broken columns in front of a fallen wall. This isthe ruin of the temple of Jupiter, the great Roman god. Daily, men usedto come here to pray before a statue in a dim room. Here, in the ruins, the excavators found the head of that statue--a beautiful marble thingwith long curling hair and beard, and calm face. They found, too, agreat broken body of marble. And in that large body a smaller statue waspartly carved. This was a puzzling thing, but the excavators studied itout at last. They said: "Old Roman books tell us that sixteen years before the great eruptionthere had been another earthquake. It had shaken down many buildings andhad cracked many walls. But the people loved their city, and when theearthquake was over, they began to rebuild and to make their houses andtemples better than ever. We have found many signs of that earthquake. We have found uncarved blocks of marble in the forum. Evidently masonswere at work there when the eruption stopped them. We have found rebuiltwalls in some of the houses. And here is the temple of Jupiter beingused as a marble shop. Probably the early earthquake had shaken down andbroken the statue of the god. A sculptor was set to work to carve a newone from the ruin. But suddenly the volcano burst forth, the artistdropped his chisel and mallet, and here we have found his unfinishedwork--a statue within a statue. " Behind the roofless porches of the forum are other ruinedbuildings--where the officers of the city did business, where thecitizens met to vote, where tailors spread out their cloth and soldrobes and cloaks. One large market building is particularly interesting. You will enter a courtyard with walls all around it and signs of lostporches. Broken partitions show where little stalls used to open uponthe court. Other stalls opened upon the street. In some of these theexcavators found, buried in the ashes and charred by the fire, figs, chestnuts, plums, grapes, glass dishes of fruit, loaves of bread, andlittle cakes. Were customers buying the night's dessert when Vesuviusfrightened them away? In a cool corner of the building is a fish marketwith sloping marble counter. Near it in the middle of the courtyard arethe bases of columns arranged in a circle around a deep basin in thefloor. In the bottom of this basin the excavators found a thick layerof fish scales. Evidently the masters used to buy their fish from themarket in the corner. Then the slaves carried them here to the shadedpool of water and cleaned them and scaled them and washed them. Inanother corner the excavators found skeletons of sheep. Here was apen for live animals which a man might buy for his banquet or for asacrifice to his gods. His slave would lead the sheep away through thecrowds. But on that terrible day when the volcano belched, the poorbleating animals were deserted. Their pen held them and the ashescovered them and to-day we can see their skeletons. The walls around the market are still standing, though the top is brokenand the roof is fallen. They are still covered with paintings. If youwill look at them you can guess what used to be for sale here. There aregame birds and fish and wine jars all pictured here in beautiful colors. There are cupids playing about a flour mill and cupids weaving garlands. There are also pictures of the gods and heroes and the deeds they did. Imagine this painted market full of chattering people, the little shopsgay with piles of beautiful fruit and vegetables, the graceful columnsand dark porches adding beauty. Imagine these people crying out andrunning and these columns swaying and falling when Vesuvius bellowed andshook the earth. And yet we can see the very fruits that men were buyingand the pictures they were enjoying. The forum with its markets and shops and offices and temples and statueswas the very heart of the city. Many streets led into it. Perhaps youwill walk down one of them, between broken walls, past open doorways. After several street corners you will come to a large building with highwalls still standing and with tall, arched entrance. This also was oneof the gay places in Pompeii, for it was a bathhouse. Every day allthe ladies and gentlemen of the town came strolling toward it down thestreets. The men went in at the wide doorway. The women turned andentered their own apartments around the corner. And as they walkedtoward the entrance they passed little shops built into the walls ofthe bathhouse. At every stall stood the shopkeeper, bowing, smiling, begging, calling. "Perfumes, sweet lady!" "Rings, rings, beautiful madam, for your beautiful fingers!" "Oil for your body, sir, after the bath!" "A taste of sweets, madam, before you enter! Honey cakes of my ownmaking!" "Don't forget to buy my dressing for your hair before you go in! You'llget nothing like it in there. " So they chattered and called and coaxed. Some of the people bought, andsome went laughing by and entered the bathhouse. As the gentlemen wentin, a large court opened before them. Here were men bowling or jumpingor running or punching the bag or playing ball or taking some other kindof exercise before the bath. Others were resting in the shade of theporches. A poet sat in a cool corner reading his verses to a fewlisteners. Some men, after their games, were scraping their sweatingbodies with the strigil. Others were splashing in the marbleswimming tank. Here and there barbers were working over handsomegentlemen--smoothing their faces, perfuming their hair, polishing theirnails. There was talk and laughter everywhere. Men were lazily comingand going through a door that led into the baths. There were large roomswith high ceilings and painted walls. In one we can still see the roundmarble basin. The walls are painted with trees and birds and swimmingfish and statues. It was like bathing in a beautiful garden to bathehere. Another room was for the hot bath, with double walls and hot aircirculating between to make the whole room warm. The bathhouse was agreat building full of comforts. No wonder that all the idle Pompeianscame here to bathe, to play, to visit, to tell and hear the news. It wasa gay and noisy place. We have a letter that one of those old Romanswrote to a friend. He says: "I am living near a bath. Sounds are heard on all sides. The men ofstrong muscle exercise and swing the heavy lead weights. I hear theirgroans as they strain, and the whistling of their breath. I hear themassagist slapping a lazy fellow who is being rubbed with ointment. Aball player begins to play and counts his throws. Perhaps there is asudden quarrel, or a thief is caught, or some one is singing in thebath. And the bathers plunge into the swimming tank with loud splashes. Above all the din you hear the calls of the hair puller and the sellersof cakes and sweetmeats and sausages. " After you leave the baths perhaps you will turn down Stabian Street. Ithas narrow sidewalks. The broken walls of houses fence it in closelyon both sides and cast black shadows across it. It is paved with cleanblocks of lava. You will see wheel ruts worn deep in the hard stone. Almost two thousand years old they are, made by the carts of thefarmers, perhaps, who brought in vegetables for the market. At thestreet crossings you will see three or four big stone blocks standingup above the pavement. They are stepping-stones for rainy weather. Evidently floods used to pour down these sloping streets. You canimagine little Roman boys skipping across from block to block and tryingto keep their sandals dry. The street will lead you to the district of good houses where thewealthy men lived. Through open doorways you will get glimpses into theold ruined courtyards. It is hard guessing how the rooms used to look. But when you come to the door of the house of Vettius you will cry outwith wonder. There is a lovely garden in the corner of the house. A longpassage leads to it straight from the street. Around it runs a pavedporch with pretty columns. Here you will walk in the shade and look outat the gay little garden, blooming in the sunshine. In every corner tinystreams of water spurt from little statues of bronze and marble andtrickle into cool basins. Marble tables stand among the flowers. Youwill half expect a slave to bring out old drinking cups and wine bowlsand set them here for his master's pleasure, or tablets and stylus forhim to write his letters. Everything is in order and beautiful. It wasnot quite so when the excavators uncovered this house. The statues werethrown down. The flowers were scorched and dead under the piled-upashes. But it was easy for the modern excavators to tell from the groundwhere the flower beds had been and where the gravel paths. Even thelead water pipe that carried the stream to the fountain needed littlerepairing. So the excavators set up the statues, cleaned the marbletables and benches, planted shrubs and flowers, repaired the porch roof, and we have a garden such as the old Romans loved and such as manyhouses in Pompeii had. Several rooms look out upon this garden. One of them is perhaps the mostinteresting place in all Pompeii. You will walk into it and look aroundand laugh with delight. The whole wall is painted with pictures, big andlittle--pictures of columns and roofs, of plants and animals, of menand gods. They are all framed in with wide spaces of beautiful red. Andtucked away between them in narrow bands of black are the gayest littlescenes in the world. They are worth going all the way across the oceanto see. Psyches--delicate little winged girls like fairies--are pickingslender flowers and putting them into tall, graceful baskets. They areso light and so tiny that they seem to be flitting along the walllike bright butterflies. In other panels plump little cupids--wingedboys--are playing at being men. They are picking grapes and working awine press and selling wine. It is big work for tiny creatures, and theymust kick up their dimpled legs and puff out their chubby cheeks to doit. They are melting gold and carrying gold dishes and selling jewelryand swinging a blacksmith's hammer with their fat little arms. They arecarrying roses to market on a ragged goat and weaving rose garlands andselling them to an elegant little lady. Everywhere these gay littlecreatures are skipping about at their play among the beautiful redspaces and large pictures. This was surely a charming dining room in theold days. The guests must have been merry every time their eyes lightedupon the bright wall. And if they looked out at the open side, theresmiled the garden with its flowers and statues and splashing fountainsand columns. There lived in this house two men by the name of Vettius. We know thisbecause the excavators found here two seals. In those days men fastenedtheir letters and receipts and bills with wax. While the wax was softthey stamped their names in it with a metal seal. On the stamps thatwere found in this house were carved Aulus Vettius Restitutus and AulusVettius Conviva. Perhaps they were freedmen who once had been slaves ofAulus Vettius. But they must have earned a fortune for themselves, forthere were two money chests in the house. And they must have had slavesof their own to take care of their twenty rooms and more. In the tinykitchen the excavators found a good store of charcoal and the ashes ofa little fire on top of the stone stove. And on its three little legsa bronze dish was sitting over the dead fire. A slave must have beencooking his master's dinner when the volcano frightened him away. Vettius' dining room is empty of its wooden tables and couches. But somehouses had stone ones built in their gardens for pleasant summer days. These the ashes did not crush, and they are still in place. Columnsstood about the tables and vines climbed up them and across to make coolshade. The tables were always long and narrow and built around threesides of a rectangle. Low couches stand along the outside edges. Hereguests used to lie propped up on their left elbows with pretty cushionsto make them comfortable. In the open space in the middle of the squareservants came and went and passed the dishes across the narrow tables. Children used to have little wooden stools and sit in this middle spaceopposite their elders. But in one old ruined garden dining room you willsee a little stone bench for the children, built along the end of thetable. It must have been pleasant to have supper there with the sunsetcoloring the sky, behind old Vesuvius, the cool breeze shaking theleaves of the garden shrubs, and the fountain tinkling, and a birdchirping in a corner, and the shadows beginning to creep under the longporches, and the tiny flames of lamps fluttering in the dusky roomsbehind. After you leave the house of Vettius and walk down the street, you willcome to a certain door. In the sidewalk before it you will see "Have"spelled with bits of colored marble. It is the old Latin word for"Welcome. " It is too pleasant an invitation to refuse. Go in throughthe high doorway and down the narrow passage to the atrium. Every Romanhouse had this atrium. It is like a large reception hall with manyrooms opening off it--bedrooms, dining rooms, sitting rooms. Beautifulhangings instead of doors used to shut these rooms in. The atrium had anopening in the roof where the sun shone in and softly lighted the bigroom. Here the master used to receive his guests. In the house ofVettius the two money chests were found in the atrium. In this same roomin the house of "Welcome, " there was found on the floor a little bronzestatue, a dancing faun, one of the gay friends of Dionysus. It is a tinything only two feet high, but so pretty that the excavators named thehouse after it--The House of the Faun. Evidently the old owner lovedbeautiful things and had money to buy them. Even the floors of some ofhis rooms are made in mosaic pictures. There are doves at play, andducks and fish and shells all laid under your feet in bright bits ofcolored marble. And beyond the pleasant court with its porches andgarden is a large sitting room. In the floor of this the excavatorsfound the most wonderful mosaic picture of all, a picture of a battle, with waving spears and prancing horses and fallen men. Two kings arefacing each other to fight--Darius, king of Persia, standing in hischariot, and Alexander, king of Greece, riding his war horse. The bitsof stone are so small and of such perfect color that the mosaic lookslike a beautiful painting. Imagine how the excavators' hearts leapedwhen the spades took the gray ashes off this bright picture. It was tooprecious a thing to leave here in the rain and wind. So the excavatorscarefully took it up and put it into the museum of Naples where thereare other valuable things from Pompeii. There are many other houses almost as pleasant and beautiful as thisHouse of the Faun. Every one has its atrium and its sunny court and itsfountains and statues and its painted walls. But Pompeii was a city ofbusiness, too, and had many workshops. There is a dye shop where theexcavators found large lead pots and glass bottles still full of dye. There are cleaners' shops where the slaves used to take their masters'robes to be cleaned. Here the excavators found vats and white clayfor cleaning, and pictures on the wall showing men at work. There aretanneries where leather was made. The rusted tools were found which themen had thrown down so long ago. There is a pottery shop with two ovensfor baking the vases. On a certain street corner you will see an oldwine shop. It is a little room cut into the corner wall of a greathouse. Its two sides are open upon the street with broad marblecounters. Below the counters are big, deep jars. Their open tops thrustthemselves through the slab. You can look into their mouths where theshopkeeper used to dip out the wine. On the walls of the room are marksthat show where shelves hung in ancient days to hold cups and glasses. In the outer edge of the sidewalk before the shop are two round holescut into the stone. Long ago poles were thrust into them to hold anawning that shaded the walk in front of the counters. We can imagine menstopping in this pleasant shade as they passed. The busy slave insidethe shop whips out a cup and a graceful, long-handled ladle and dips outthe sweet-smelling wine from the wide-mouthed jar. And we can imaginehow the cups fell clattering from the men's hands when Vesuviusthundered. In one shop, indeed, the excavators found an overturned cupon the counter and a wine stain on the marble. But the most interestingshops are the bakeries. There were twenty of them in Pompeii. You willsee the ovens in the courtyard. They are big beehives built of stone orbrick. The baker made a fire inside and let the walls become hot. Thenhe raked out the coals and cleaned the floor and put in his bread. Thehot walls baked the loaves. In one oven the excavators found a burnedloaf eighteen hundred years old. When the earthquake shook his house, did the baker snatch out the rest of the ovenful to feed his hungryfamily as they groped about for safety in the terrible darkness?In several bakeries you will see, also, the mills. They are greatmortar-shaped things standing taller than a man. The heavy stone aboveturned around upon the stone below. A man poured wheat in at the top. Itfell down and was ground between the two stones and dropped out at thebottom as flour. A horse or donkey was hitched to the mill to turn it. Around and around he walked all day. He was blindfolded to prevent hisbecoming dizzy. You will see on the stone floor in one bakery the paththat was made by years of this walking. In the old days this silentempty court must have been an interesting place. The donkey's hoofs beatlazy time on the stone floor. Now and then a slave lifted up a bag ofwheat and poured it into the mill or scooped out the white flour fromthe trough at the bottom. Another man sifted the flour and the breezeblew the white dust over his bare arms. Some of the ovens were smokingand glowing with fresh fire. Others were shut, with the browning breadinside, and a good smell hung in the air. And out in front was a littleshop where the master sold the thin loaves and the fancy little cakes. In the hundreds of houses and shops of this little town the excavatorshave found bronze tables and lamps and lamp stands and wine jars andkitchen pots and pans and spoons and glass vases and silver cups andgold hairpins and jewelry and ivory combs and bronze strigils andmirrors and several statues of bronze and marble. But where theyhad hoped to find thousands of precious things they have found onlyhundreds. Many pedestals are empty of their statues. Here and there thevery paintings have been cut from the walls. Those are the pictures weshould most like to see. How beautiful could they have been? "Evidently men came back soon after the eruption, " say the excavators. "The tops of their ruined houses must have stood up above the ashes. They dug down and rescued their most precious things. We have even foundbroken places in walls where we think men dug tunnels from one house toanother. That is why the temple and market place have so few statues. That is why we find so little jewelry and money and dishes. But we haveenough. The city is our treasure. " One rich find they did make, however. There was a pleasant farmhouse outof town on the slope of Vesuvius. Evidently the man who owned it hada vineyard and an olive grove and grain fields. For there are olivepresses and wine presses and a great court full of vats for making wineand a floor for threshing wheat and a mill for grinding flour and astable and a wide courtyard that must have held many carts. And thereare bathrooms and many pleasant rooms besides. In the room with the winepresses was a stone cistern for storing the fresh grape juice. Herethe excavators found a treasure and a mystery. In this cistern lay theskeleton of a man. With him were a thousand pieces of gold money, somegold jewelry, and a wonderful dinner set of silver dishes. There are ahundred and three pieces--plates, platters, cups, bowls. And every onehas beaten up from it beautiful designs of flowers and people. An artistmust have made them, and a rich man must have bought them. How did theycome here in this farmhouse? They must have been meant for a nobleman'stable. Had some thief stolen them and hidden here, only to be caughtby the volcano? Did some rich lady of the city have this farm for hercountry place? And had she sent her treasure here to escape when thevolcano burst forth? At any rate here it lay for eighteen hundred years. And now it is in a museum in Paris, far from its old owner's home. In this buried city we find the houses in which men lived, the picturesthey loved, the food they ate, the jewels they wore, the cups they drankfrom. But what of the people themselves? Were they real men and women?How did they look? Did they all escape? Not all, for many skeletons havebeen found here and there through the city--in the market place, in thestreets, in the houses. And sometimes the excavators have found stillstranger, sadder things. Often as a man has been digging in thehard-packed ashes, his spade has struck into a hole. Then he has calledthe chief excavator. "Let us see what it is, " the excavator has said, "Perhaps it will besomething interesting. " So they have mixed plaster and poured it into the hole. They have givenit a little time to harden and then have dug away the ashes from aroundit. In that way they have made a plaster cast just the shape of thehole. And several times when they have uncovered their cast they havefound it to be the form of a man or woman or child. Perhaps the personhad been hurrying through the street and had stumbled and fallen. Thegases had choked him, the ashes had slowly covered him. Under themoistening rain and the pressure of all the hundreds of years the asheshad hardened almost to stone. Meantime the body had decayed and had sunkdown into a handful of dust. But the hardened ashes still stood firmaround the space where the body had been. When this hole was filled withplaster, the cast took just the form of the one who had been buriedthere so long ago--the folds of his clothes, the ring on his finger, thegirl's knot of hair, the negro slave's woolly head. So we can reallylook upon the faces of some of the ancient people of Pompeii. And inanother way we can learn the names of many of them. One of the streets that leads out from the wall is called the "Street ofTombs. " It is the ancient burying ground. You will walk along the pavedstreet between rows of monuments. Some will be like great square altarsof marble beautifully carved. Some will be tall platforms with stepsleading up. There will be marble benches where you may sit and think ofthe old Pompeians who were twice buried in their beautiful tombs. Andthere on the marble monument you will see their names carved in oldLatin letters, and kind things that their friends said about them. Thereare: Marcus Cerrinius Restitutus; Aulus Veius, who was several times anofficer of the city; Mamia, a priestess; Marcus Porcius; NumeriusIstacidius and his wife and daughter and others of his family, all ina great tomb standing on a high platform; Titus Terentius Felix, whosewife, Fabia Sabina, built his tomb; Tyche, a slave; Aulus UmbriciusScaurus, whose statue was set up in the market place to do him honor;Gaius Calventius Quietus, who was given a seat of honor at the theateron account of his generosity; Nævoleia Tyche, who had once been a slave, but who had been freed, had married, and grown wealthy and had slaves ofher own; Gnæus Vibius Saturninus, whose freedman built his tomb; MarcusArrius Diomedes, a freedman; Numerius Velasius Gratus, twelve years old;Salvinus, six years old; and many another. After seeing the tombs and houses and shops you will leave that littlecity, I think, feeling that the people of ancient times were much likeus, that men and mountains have done wonderful things in this old world, that it is good to know how people of other times lived and worked anddied. PICTURES OF POMPEII A ROMAN BOY. This statue, now in the Metropolitan Museum, was found at Pompeii. Probably Caius was dressed just like this, and carried such a stick whenhe played in his father's courtyard. THE CITY OF NAPLES, WITH MOUNT VESUVIUS ACROSS THE BAY. VESUVIUS IN ERUPTION, FROM AN AIRPLANE. Nowadays men know from history what may happen when Vesuvius wakes. Butin 79 A. D. , when Pompeii was buried, the mountain had slept for hundredsof years, and no man knew that an eruption might bury a city. POMPEII FROM AN AIRPLANE. The roofs are all gone and all the partitions inside the houses show. That is why it all looks so crowded and confused. But if you study itcarefully you can see some interesting things. The big open space isthe forum. It is about five hundred feet long, running northeast andsouthwest. South of it is the temple of Apollo. North of it, where yousee the bases of columns in a circle, was the market. Next to the marketis the place where the gods of the city were worshipped. The broadstreet beside the forum running southeast is the one down which Aristonfled. Then he turned into the forum, ran out the gate near the lower endinto the steep street that runs southwest and ends at a city gate nearthe sea. NOLA STREET AND THE TEMPLE OF FORTUNE. You must imagine this temple with an altar in front, a broad flight ofsteps, and a portico of beautiful columns. You can see the street pavedwith blocks of lava, the deep wheel ruts, and the stepping stones forrainy weather. THE STABIAN GATE. Pompeii was surrounded by two high walls fifteen feet apart, with earthbetween. An embankment of earth was piled up inside also. This is one ofthe eight gates in the wall. IN THE STREET OF TOMBS. On the tomb of Nævoleia Tyche was a carving of a ship gliding into port, the sailors furling the sails. Within this tomb is a chamber wherefuneral urns stand, containing the ashes of Tyche and her husband, andof the slaves they had freed. Pompeians always burned the bodies of thedead. THE AMPHITHEATER. Like other Roman towns, Pompeii had an amphitheater. Here twentythousand people could come and watch the gladiators fight in pairs tillone was killed. Then the dead body was dragged off, and another pairappeared and fought. Sometimes the gladiators were prisoners captured inwar, like the famous Spartacus; sometimes they were slaves; sometimescriminals condemned to death. Sometimes a man was pitted against a wildbeast; sometimes two wild beasts fought each other. The amphitheater hadno roof. Vesuvius, with its column of smoke, was in plain view from theseats. There was a great awning to protect the spectators. The lowerseats were for officials and distinguished people; for the middle rowsthere was an admission fee; all the upper seats were free. RUINS OF THE GREAT STABIAN BATHS. A few large houses had baths of their own, but most people went everyday to a great public bath which was a very gay place. This open courtwhich you see, was for games. THE RUINED TEMPLE OF APOLLO. The temple was built on a high foundation. A broad flight of steps ledup to it, with an altar at the foot. There was a porch all round it heldup by a row of columns. Some of the columns have stood up through allthe earthquakes and eruptions of two thousand years. Inside the porchwas a small room for the statue of Apollo. In the paved court aroundthis temple were many altars and statues of the gods. This was at onetime the most important temple in Pompeii. THE SCHOOL OF THE GLADIATORS. In this large open court the gladiators had their training and practice. In small cells around the court they lived. They were kept under closeguard, for they were dangerous men. Sixty-three skeletons were foundhere, many of them in irons. THE SMALLER THEATER. Pompeii had two theaters for plays and music, besides the amphitheaterwhere the gladiators fought. The smaller theater, unlike the others, hada roof. It seated fifteen hundred people. We think perhaps contests inmusic were held here. A SACRIFICE. A boar, a ram, and a bull are to be killed, and a part of the flesh isto be burned on the altar to please the gods. A SCENE IN THE FORUM. On the walls of a room in a house in Pompeii men found this picture, showing how interesting the life of the forum was. At the left is atable where a man has kitchen utensils for sale. But he is dreaming anddoes not see a customer coming. So his friend is waking him up. Near himis a shoemaker selling sandals to some women. IVORY HAIRPINS. Underneath are two ivory toilet boxes. One was probably for perfumedoil. APPLIANCES FOR THE BATH. These were found hanging in a ring in one of the great public baths. Yousee a flask for oil, a saucer to pour the oil into, and four scrapers toscrape off the oil and dirt before a plunge. PERISTYLE OF THE HOUSE OF THE VETTII. With the columns and tables and statues that were found, this court hasbeen built on the site of an old ruined villa. Flowers bloom and thefountain plays in it to-day just as they did over two thousand yearsago. There are wall paintings in the shadows at the back. The littleboys holding the ducks must look very much like Caius when he was alittle boy. When he went to the farm in the hills for a hot summer, hehad ducks to play with; here are statues to remind him, in the wintertime, of what fun that was. A garden like this, not generally so large, was laid out _inside_ everyimportant house in Pompeii. The family rooms surrounded it. These roomsreceived most of their light and air from this garden. Caius was lyingon a couch in a garden like this, when the shower of pebbles suddenlybegan. Ariston was painting the walls of a room that overlooked thegarden. LADY PLAYING A HARP. This is part of a beautiful wall painting in a Pompeian house, the sortof painting that Ariston was making when the volcano burst forth. Seehow much the little boy looks like his mother, and what beautiful bandsthey both have in their hair. Chairs like this one have been found inthe ruins, and the same design is on many other pieces of furniture. The Metropolitan Museum owns the complete wall paintings for a Pompeianroom. They are put up just as they were in Pompeii. There is even aniron window grating. A beautiful table from Pompeii stands in thecenter. The room is one of the gayest in the whole museum, with its richreds and bright yellows, greens, and blues. KITCHEN OF THE HOUSE OF THE VETTII. In this house the cook must have been in the kitchen, just ready to goto work when he had to flee. He left the pot on a tripod on a bed ofcoals, ready for use. You can see an arched opening underneath thefireplace. This was where the cook kept his fuel. The small size ofthe kitchens shows that the Pompeians were not great gluttons. KITCHEN UTENSILS. These kettles and frying pans and ladles are made of bronze, an alloy ofcopper and tin. They look very much like our kitchen furnishings. CENTAUR CUP. Some rich Pompeian had a pair of beautiful silver cups with gracefulhandles. The design was made in hammered silver, and showed centaurstalking to cupids that are sitting on their backs. A centaur was halfman, half horse. THE HOUSE OF THE TRAGIC POET (restored). From the ruins and from ancient books, men know almost all the rooms ofa Pompeian house. So they have pictured this one as it was before thedisaster, with its many beautiful wall paintings, its mosaic floors, itstiled roofs. If you can imagine these two halves fitted together, andyourself inside, you can visit one of the most attractive houses inPompeii. Do you see how the tiled roof slants downward from four sidesto a rectangular opening in the highest part of the house? Below thisopening was a shallow basin into which the rainwater fell. This basinwas in the center of the atrium, the most important room in the house. The walls of this room were painted with scenes from the Trojan war. This is the house which has the mosaic picture of a dog on the floor ofthe long entrance hall (see next page). On each side of the hall, facingthe street, are large rooms for shops, where, doubtless, the ownerconducted his business. He was not a "Tragic Poet. " Some people think hewas a goldsmith. On each side of the atrium were sleeping rooms. Can yousee that the doors are very high with a grating at the top to let inlight and air? Windows were few and small, and generally the rooms tooklight and air from the inside courts rather than from outside. Back ofthe atrium was a large reception room with bedrooms on each side. Andback of this was a large open court, or garden, with a colonnade onthree sides and a solid wall at the back. Opening on this garden was alarge dining room with beautiful wall paintings, a tiny kitchen, andsome sleeping rooms. This house had stairways and second story roomsover the shops. This seems to us a very comfortable homelike house. THE HOUSE OF THE TRAGIC POET (as it looks to-day). Here you see the shallow basin in the floor of the atrium. This basinhad two outlets. You can see the round cistern mouth near the pool. There was also an outlet to the street to carry off the overflow. At theback of the garden you can see a shrine to the household gods. At everymeal a portion was set aside in little dishes for the gods. MOSAIC OF WATCH DOG. From the vestibule of the House of the Tragic Poet. It says loudly, "Beware the dog!" Pictures and patterns made of little pieces ofpolished stone like this are called mosaic. Sometimes Americanvestibules are tiled in a simple mosaic. Wouldn't it be fun if they hadsuch exciting pictures as this? A real dog, or two or three, probablywas standing inside the door, chained, or held by slaves. THE HOUSE OF DIOMEDE. There was a wine cellar under the colonnade. Here were twenty skeletons;two, children. Near the door were found skeletons of two men. One had alarge key, doubtless the key of this door. He wore a gold ring and wascarrying a good deal of money. He was probably the master of the house. Evidently the family thought at first that the wine cellar would be asafe place, but when they found that it was not so, the master took oneslave and started out to find a way to escape. But they all perished. RUINS OF A BAKERY, WITH MILLSTONES. SECTION OF A MILL. If one of the mills that were found in the bakery were sawed in two, itwould look like this. You can see where the baker's man poured in thewheat, and where the flour dropped down, and the heavy timbers fastenedto the upper millstone to turn it by. PORTRAIT OF LUCIUS CÆCILIUS JUCUNDUS. This Lucius was an auctioneer who had set free one of his slaves, Felix. Felix, in gratitude, had this portrait of his master cast in bronze. It stood on a marble pillar in the atrium of the house. BRONZE CANDLEHOLDER. It is the figure of the Roman God Silenus. He was the son of Pan, andthe oldest of the satyrs, who were supposed to be half goat. Can youfind the goat's horns among his curls? He was a rollicking old satyr, very fond of wine, always getting into mischief. The grape design at thebase of the little statue, and the snake supporting the candleholder, both are symbols of the sileni. THE DANCING FAUN. In one of the largest and most elegant houses in Pompeii, on the floorof the atrium, or principal room of the house, men found in the ashesthis bronze statue of a dancing faun. Doesn't he look as if he lovedto dance, snapping his fingers to keep time? Although this great housecontained on the floor of one room the most famous of ancient mosaicpictures, representing Alexander the Great in battle, and although itcontains many other fine mosaics, it was named from this statue, theHouse of the Faun, Casa del Fauno. HERMES IN REPOSE. This bronze statue was found in Herculaneum, the city on the other slopeof Vesuvius which was buried in liquid mud. This mud has become solidrock, from sixty to one hundred feet deep so that excavation is verydifficult, and the city is still for the most part buried. THE ARCH OF NERO. The visitors to-day are walking where Caius walked so long ago on thesame paving stones. The three stones were set up to keep chariots out ofthe forum.