stige when we return home."

"Ah, that is why I selected this time to bring you here," declared Uncle
John, with a comical wink. "I ordered the eruption before I left home,
and I must say they've been very prompt about it, and done the thing up
brown. Eh, Patsy?"

"Right you are, Uncle. But you might tell 'em to turn off the eruption
now, because we've had enough."

"Don't like Eu-rope, eh?"

"Why, if I thought all Europe was surrounded by volcanoes, I'd go home
at once, if I had to walk. But the geographies don't mention many of
these spouters, so we may as well stick out our present experience and
hope the rest of the continent will behave better. The Major'll be
worried to death when he hears of this."

"I've sent him a cable," said Uncle John.

"What did you say?" asked Patsy, eagerly.

"'All safe and well and enjoying the fireworks.'"

"I'm glad you did that," replied the girl, deeply grateful at this
evidence of thoughtfulness. "It's bad enough for the Major to have me
away, without making him worry, into the bargain."

"Well, no one is likely to worry about me," said Beth, philosophically.

"Mother seldom reads the papers, except to get the society news,"
remarked Louise. "I doubt if she'll hear of the eruption, unless the
Major happens to tell her."

"I've cabled them all," said Uncle John. "They're entitled to know that
their kidiwinkles are in good shape."

The evening was a tedious one, although they tried to enliven it with a
game of bridge, in which Uncle John and Louise were quite proficient
and the others dreadfully incompetent. Once in a while the volcano
thundered a deep detonation that caused the windows to shiver, but the
Americans were getting used to the sound and paid little heed to it.

In the morning the wind had shifted, and although the air was still full
of dust all near-by objects were clearly visible and even the outline of
Vesuvius could be seen sending skyward its pillar of black smoke.

Colonel Angeli appeared soon after breakfast, his uniform fresh and
bright and his boyish face beaming as pleasantly as ever.

"Vesuvio is better," said he, "but the rascal has badly acted and done
much harm to our poor people. Like Herculaneum, our Boscatrecase is
covered with lava; like Pompeii our Ottajano is buried in ashes. Let me
advise you. To-day go to Sorrento, and there stay for a time, until we
can the dust brush from our streets and prepare to welcome you with the
comfort more