world--Vesuvius.

[Illustration: VESUVIUS.]

We arrive at Naples early in the morning and are the very first to be up
and out on deck. The bay has been called one of the most lovely to be
seen anywhere, but to-day at least it is disappointing, for there is no
sun and only a dull grey drizzle, which carries our thoughts back to
England at once.

The houses of the town rise in tiers up the hillside, very tall and
straight, and seem to be filled with innumerable windows.

However, it is not the view of Naples itself which is called so
beautiful but rather that of the bay _from_ Naples, especially on a blue
and golden day, and that we have no chance of seeing. On one side of the
bay rises the mighty mountain whose furious deeds have made him known
and respected all over the world. There is a heavy cloud hanging around
his crest so that we cannot see the crater; the cloud looks as if it
were composed of smoke as much as anything else, for even yet Vesuvius
is terribly alive.

We get a hasty breakfast, for though we are going to be here till late
afternoon, there is much to see, and we have no time to spare. Then we
get into a little launch and steam past all the great ships lying at
anchor. On the quay we find ourselves in a great crowd of grey uniformed
soldiers, many of them mere lads, carrying their kit, and drawn up in
lines waiting their turn to march on board the towering troopship
anchored alongside, while some of them wind up the gangway like a great
grey snake. Those already in the ship are letting down ropes to draw up
bottles of wine or baskets of fruit from the women who sell such things.
Within a short time Italy has become mistress of Tripoli, a country in
Africa, and now she is finding she will have to garrison it in order to
hold it; and though it costs her a great deal of money she is sending
out many of her young soldiers to guard the new possession.

We get some money changed on the quay, receiving in exchange a number of
lire; the lira is very like a franc and corresponds with it and the
English shilling, though a little less in value.

This done we walk along the front to the station. Many of the streets
are high and broad with splendid houses lining them. In them are men
busily at work washing away the mud with long hose pipes mounted on
little wheels, so that they look like giant lizards or funny snakes on
legs running across the streets by themselves, and as much alive as the
well-known adver