stifling, and the smell was worse than anything of which you have ever
dreamed. At times Dante nearly fainted, but Virgil put his arms around
him and held him up until he revived. I will not stop to tell you of all
the horrible experiences they went through. By and by when you grow to
be men and women, you can read the whole poem for yourselves.

At last they reached the bottom of the foul pit; it was the very center
of the earth, and was the darkest spot possible. Then they began to
climb through the narrow opening which they saw. They wanted to get to
the surface on the other side of the world, and again see the light of
the sun.

Dante felt as if he were escaping from a terrible plague-stricken
prison-house. The first things he looked at were four beautiful stars
shining far above his head; then he knew he was where he could get fresh
air and light, for he felt sure that where stars were to be seen air and
light could be found. He soon discovered that he was on a large island,
in the middle of which stood a great mountain. This, Virgil told Dante,
was the mountain which they would have to climb.

It was Easter morning!

As they were looking about them, not knowing exactly which way to turn,
they saw an old man with a long white beard. His face was so radiant
that it reminded Dante of the stars at which he had been gazing. The old
man told them where to go to begin the ascent of the mountain. But he
said that Virgil must first get the grime and dirt off of Dante. You
know we cannot very well get into dirty places without having some of
the cinders and ashes and other filth stick to us. He also kindly told
them where they could find some easily bent rushes which they could use
to gird up Dante's long cloak, so that he might climb the better.

I think it must have been the old man's kindness to the many strangers
who came to the island that caused his face to look so beaming as to
remind Dante of the stars. Poor Dante thought over all his past life,
how he had wandered away from his home, how he had found himself in the
gloomy woods, how he had met the fierce beasts, and last of all he
thought of the blackening dirt he had gotten on himself in coming
through the deep hole. Then he thought of his rescue from all these
evils and the tears rolled down his cheeks. Virgil spread his hands out
upon the grass, still wet with the dew from heaven, and with the
moisture thus gained, he washed Dante's face. The tears Dante was