Through the forlorn, dust-covered vineyards they drove to San Guiseppe,
where a church roof had fallen in and killed one hundred and forty
people, maiming many more. The Red-Cross tents were pitched in the
streets and the whole town was one vast hospital. Ottajano, a little
nearer to the volcano, had been buried in scoria, and nine-tenths of
the roofs had fallen in, rendering the dwellings untenable.
From here a clear view of Mt. Vesuvius could be obtained. The shape of
the mountain had greatly altered and the cone had lost sixty-five feet
of its altitude. But when one gazed upon the enormous bulk of volcanic
deposit that littered the country for miles around, it seemed to equal a
dozen mountains the size of Vesuvius. The marvel was that so much ashes
and cinders could come from a single crater in so short a period.
Naples was cleaning house, but slowly and listlessly. The people seemed
as cheerful and light-hearted as ever. The volcano was one of their
crosses, and they bore it patiently. The theatres would remain closed
for some weeks to come, but the great Museo Nationale was open, and
Uncle John and his nieces were much interested in the bronze and marble
statuary that here form the greatest single collection in all the world.
It was at the Museum that Mr. Merrick was arrested for the first time
in his life, an experience he never afterward forgot.
Pages:
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94