don't doubt that they knew it," said Frank. "But what I say
is, that if these were large enough for them, what a poor lot they
must have, been!"

"After all," said David, "Pompeii was not a great city. It was only
a small city. You expect to find here the magnificence of Rome."

"No, I don't. I merely expect to find something that'll carry out
the promise of those pictures that they make of scenes in Pompeii.
Why, there isn't anything in the whole town, except, perhaps, this
place, that looks large enough for an ordinary person to move about
in. Look at the walls--miserable things twenty feet high. Look at
the streets--only wide enough for a single cart. Look at the
sidewalks--only wide enough for a single man. The only thing in
the whole town that comes up to my idea is the Amphitheatre. This
is respectable. It corresponds with the pictures, and the descriptions
of travellers. But as to all the rest, I have only to remark that
they are, first, mean; secondly, small; and thirdly, in outrageously
bad taste."

Frank ceased, and looked steadfastly at David.

David looked at Frank, but his feelings were too strong for utterance.
His indignation at this desecration of a place that was so hallowed
in his eyes could not be expressed. He turned his face away in
silent scorn, and fixed his gaze on Vesuvius.

They waited a long time, and when at length they prepared to leave
Pompeii, it was late in the day. All the other visitors had left
long before, and they were the last in the city. They walked along
looking round them till the last, and at length reached the entrance.
Michael Angelo went off to get the carriage. They waited a little
while to take a last look, and then passed through the gate. Here
they found themselves confronted by three officials, the custodians
of the place.

One of these addressed them in very fair English.

"Messieurs," said he, "before you leave, I haf to inquire--Deed
you take anyting out from Pompeii?"

"Take anything?" said Uncle Moses, in an indignant voice. "What
do you mean?"

"A tousand pardons, sare," said the other, politely. "It ees a
formaletee. I mean de leetle stones, de pieces of steek, wood,
plastair. Ha! De reliques, de souvenirs."

He was rather an unpleasant looking man, with a very sallow face,
high cheek-bones, and a heavy goatee on the tip of his chin, which
wagged up and down as he talked in quite a wonderful way.

"Stones, sticks, plaster?" said Uncle Moses. "Cour