that
gondola, it will go hard with you," but I just looked innocent, and dad
went on drying his shirt by a charcoal brazier and never suspected me.
But I am getting the worst of it, for dad and his clothes smell so much
like a clam bake that it makes me sick.

Well, old friend, you ought to close up your grocery and come over here
and go to Vesuvius and Pompeii with us, where we can dry our clothes
by the volcano, and dig in the city that was buried in hot ashes 2,000
years ago. They say you can dig up mummies there that are dead ringers
for you, old man.

O, come on, and have fun with us.

Your friend,

Hennery.

CHAPTER XVI.

The Bad Boy Writes from Naples--Dad Sees Vesuvius and Calls
the Servants to Put Out the Fire--They Have Trouble with a
"Dago" in Pompeii.

Naples, Italy.--Dear Old Partner in Crime: Well, sir, we have struck a
place that reminds us of home, and your old grocery store. The day we
got here dad and I took a walk into the poorer districts, where they
throw all the slops and refuse in the streets, and where nobody ever
seems to clean up anything and burn it. The odor was something that you
cannot describe without a demonstration, and after we had turned pale
and started to go away, dad said the smell reminded him of something
at home, and finally he remembered your old grocery in the sauerkraut
season, early in the morning, before you had aired out the place. Your
ears must have burned when we were talking about you.

If you want to get an idea of Naples, at its worst, go down into your
cellar and round up all the codfish, onions, kraut, limburger cheese,
kerosene, rotten potatoes, and everything that is dead, put it all in
a bushel basket, and just before the Health officers come to pull your
place, get down on your knees and put your head down in the basket, and
let some one sit on your head all the forenoon, and you will have just
such a half day as dad and I had in the poor quarter of Naples, and
it will not cost you half as much as it did us, unless, after you have
enjoyed yourself in your cellar with your head in the basket, you decide
to have a run of sickness and hire a doctor who will charge you the
price of a trip to Europe.

Well, sir, Naples is a dandy, in its clean part. The bay of Naples is a
dead ringer for Milwaukee bay, in shape and beauty, but Milwaukee
lacks Vesuvius and Pompeii, for suburbs, and she lacks the customary
highwaymen to hold you up. Ev