f listening. Then there is a fine group of statuary
representing the mighty Hercules holding a stag bent over his knee;
another of the beautiful Apollo with his lyre in his hand leaning
against a pillar. There are figures of huntsmen in full chase, and of
fishermen sitting patiently and quietly "waiting for a bite." A very
celebrated curiosity is the large urn or vase of blue glass, with
figures carved on it in half relief, in white. (For the ancients knew
how to carve glass.) These white figures look as if made of the finest
ivory instead of being carved in glass. They represent masks
enveloped in festoons of vine tendrils, loaded with clusters of
grapes, mingled with other foliage, on which birds are swinging,
children plucking grapes or treading them under foot, or blowing on
flutes, or tumbling over each other in frolicsome glee. This superb
urn, which is like nothing we have nowadays, is supposed to have been
intended to hold the ashes of the dead. For it was a custom of ancient
days to burn the bodies of the dead, and place the urns containing
their ashes in magnificent tombs.

[Illustration: ORNAMENTS FROM POMPEII.]

Instead of hanging pictures as we do, the Pompeiians generally had
them painted upon the smoothly prepared walls of their halls and
saloons. The ashes of Vesuvius preserved these paintings so well that,
when first exposed to the light, the coloring on them is fresh and
vivid, and every line and figure clear and distinct. But the sunlight
soon fades them. They are very beautiful, and teach us much about the
beliefs and customs of the old city.

Lovely and graceful as were these pictures, the floors of the houses
are much more wonderful. They are marvels of art. Not only are flowers
and running vines and complicated designs there laid in mosaics, but
pictures that startle with their life-like beauty. There are many of
these, but perhaps the finest of all is the one found in the same
house with the Dancing Faun. It represents a battle. A squadron of
victorious Greeks is rushing upon part of a Persian army. The latter
are turning to flee. Those around the vanquished Persian king think
only of their safety, but the king, with his hand extended towards his
dying general, turns his back upon his flying forces, and invites
death. Every figure in it seems to be in motion. You seem to hear the
noise of battle, and to see the rage, fear, triumph, and pity
expressed by the different faces. Think of such wonde