hey were disembarking at
Naples.

Uncle Bob was in such a hurry to reach Florence that the travelers did
not stay long in Naples--only long enough to visit the famous Aquarium
with its myriad of strange sea creatures, and to take a flying glimpse
of the Museum. It was at the latter place that Jean saw the celebrated
Naples Vase which, Uncle Bob told her, was found over a hundred years
ago in a tomb in Pompeii.

"It probably was made by very skilful Grecian workmen about the year 70
A. D. Think how wonderful it is that there were artists living many
thousands of years ago who knew how to make such a beautiful thing.
Look closely at it, Jean, for it is one of the art treasures of the
world."

Jean looked.

The vase, scarcely more than a foot in height, was of dark blue glass,
and had upon it in white a design of delicate Grecian figures.

"It was first made with a coating of white opaque glass entirely over
the blue," Uncle Bob explained. "Then the artist with extreme care and
some sharp instrument cut this beautiful picture of the harvest
gatherers. Notice, too, how the pattern is repeated on the handles. It
is a pity the base or foot of the vase is missing; it was probably of
gold and was doubtless stolen at some time. There is now made in
England a kind of pottery called Wedgwood, which has much this same
effect although, of course, it is far less perfectly fashioned."

"I'm glad I do not have this thing to dust," Hannah observed grimly.

"Well you may be, Hannah," Uncle Bob retorted, "for the vase is worth
thousands of dollars. There are in the world several very famous glass
vases--this is one; the Auldjo Vase, also from Pompeii and now in the
British Museum, is another; and the Portland Vase, which is there too,
makes a third. The design on the Portland Vase is considered even finer
than this. We shall see it and I will tell you its history when we get
to London."

What weren't they to see!

Jean's head was a jumble of fairy anticipations--of Crown Jewels,
palaces, gondolas, famous pictures, and scenes of undreamed of beauty.
The Tower of London merged itself with visions of Napoleon's Tomb,
while in and out of her mind flitted fragmentary pictures of Notre Dame
and the Vatican. Everything seemed so old!

"At first I stood with my mouth open when I was told things were built,
or dug up, or made hundreds of years ago," laughed Jean. "But now I
find I am growing fussy, and unless a thing is thousands of y