BURIED CITIES

BY

JENNIE HALL

Author of "Four Old Greeks, " Etc. Instructor in History and English inthe Francis W. Parker School, Chicago

With Many Drawings and Photographs From Original Sources

The publishers are grateful to the estate of Miss Jennie Hall and to hermany friends for assistance in planning the publication of this book. Especial thanks are due to Miss Nell C. Curtis of the Lincoln School, New York City, for helping to finish Miss Hall's work of choosing thepictures, and to Miss Irene I. Cleaves of the Francis Parker School, Chicago, who wrote the captions. It was Miss Katharine Taylor, now ofthe Shady Hill School, Cambridge, who brought these stories to ourattention. 

FOREWORD: TO BOYS AND GIRLS

Do you like to dig for hidden treasure? Have you ever found Indianarrowheads or Indian pottery? I knew a boy who was digging a cave ina sandy place, and he found an Indian grave. With his own hands heuncovered the bones and skull of some brave warrior. That brown skullwas more precious to him than a mint of money. Another boy I knew wasmaking a cave of his own. Suddenly he dug into an older one made yearsbefore. He crawled into it with a leaping heart and began to explore. Hefound an old carpet and a bit of burned candle. They proved that someone had lived there. What kind of a man had he been and what kindof life had he lived--black or white or red, robber or beggar oradventurer? Some of us were walking in the woods one day when we saw abone sticking out of the ground. Luckily we had a spade, and we set towork digging. Not one moment was the tool idle. First one bone and thenanother came to light and among them a perfect horse's skull. We felt asthough we had rescued Captain Kidd's treasure, and we went home drapedin bones. 

Suppose that instead of finding the bones of a horse we had uncovered agold-wrapped king. Suppose that instead of a deserted cave that boyhad dug into a whole buried city with theaters and mills and shops andbeautiful houses. Suppose that instead of picking up an Indian arrowheadyou could find old golden vases and crowns and bronze swords lying inthe earth. If you could be a digger and a finder and could choose yourfind, would you choose a marble statue or a buried bakeshop with breadtwo thousand years old still in the oven or a king's grave filled withgolden gifts? It is of such digging and such finding that this booktells. 

CONTENTS

 FOREWORD: To BOYS AND GIRLS

 POMPEII

 1. The Greek Slave and the Little Roman Boy

 2. Vesuvius

 3. Pompeii Today

 _Pictures of Pompeii:_

 A Roman Boy

 The City of Naples

 Vesuvius in Eruption

 Pompeii from an Airplane

 Nola Street; the Stabian Gate

 In the Street of Tombs

 The Amphitheater; the Baths

 Temple of Apollo; School of the Gladiators

 The Smaller Theater

 A Sacrifice

 Scene in the Forum; Hairpins; Bath Appliances

 Peristyle of the House of the Vettii

 Lady Playing a Harp

 Kitchen of the House of the Vettii

 Kitchen Utensils; Centaur Cup

 The House of the Tragic Poet

 Mosaic of Watch Dog

 The House of Diomede

 A Bakery; Section of a Mill

 Lucius Cęcilius Jueundus

 Bronze Candleholder

 The Dancing Faun Hermes in Repose

 The Arch of Nero

 OLYMPIA

 1. Two Winners of Crowns

 2. How a City Was Lost

 _Pictures of Olympia_:

 Entrance to Stadion

 Gymnasium

 Boys in Gymnasium

 Temple of Zeus

 The Labors of Herakles

 The Statue of Victory

 The Hermes of Praxiteles

 The Temple of Hera

 Head of an Athlete

 A Greek Horseman

 MYCENĘ

 1. How a Lost City Was Found

 _Pictures of Mycenę_:

 The Circle of Royal Tombs

 Doctor and Mrs. Schliemann at Work

 The Gate of Lions

 Inside the Treasury of Atreus

 The Interior of the Palace

 Gold Mask; Cow's Head

 The Warrior Vase

 Bronze Helmets; Gem

 Bronze Daggers

 Carved Ivory Head; Bronze Brooches

 A Cup from Vaphio

 Gold Plates; Gold Ornament

 Mycenę in the Distance

[Illustration: Line Art of Bronze Lamp. Caption: _Bronze Lamps_. Thebowl held olive oil. A wick came out at the nozzle. These lamps gave adim and smoky light. ]

THE GREEK SLATE AND THE LITTLE ROMAN BOY

Ariston, the Greek slave, was busily painting. He stood in a little roomwith three smooth walls. The fourth side was open upon a court. A littlefountain splashed there. Above stretched the brilliant sky of Italy. TheAugust sun shone hotly down. It cut sharp shadows of the columns on thecement floor. This was the master's room. The artist was painting thewalls. Two were already gay with pictures. They showed the mighty deedsof warlike Herakles. Here was Herakles strangling the lion, Herakleskilling the hideous hydra, Herakles carrying the wild boar on hisshoulders, Herakles training the mad horses. But now the boy waspainting the best deed of all--Herakles saving Alcestis from death. Hehad made the hero big and beautiful. The strong muscles lay smooth inthe great body. One hand trailed the club. On the other arm hung thefamous lion skin. With that hand the god led Alcestis. He turned hishead toward her and smiled. On the ground lay Death, bruised andbleeding. One batlike black wing hung broken. He scowled after the heroand the woman. In the sky above him stood Apollo, the lord of life, looking down. But the picture of the god was only half finished. Thefigure was sketched in outline. Ariston was rapidly laying on paint withhis little brushes. His eyes glowed with Apollo's own fire. His lipswere open, and his breath came through them pantingly. 

"O god of beauty, god of Hellas, god of freedom, help me!" he halfwhispered while his brush worked. 

For he had a great plan in his mind. Here he was, a slave in this richRoman's house. Yet he was a free-born son of Athens, from a family ofpainters. Pirates had brought him here to Pompeii, and had sold him as aslave. His artist's skill had helped him, even in this cruel land. Forhis master, Tetreius, loved beauty. The Roman had soon found that hisyoung Greek slave was a painter. He had said to his steward:

"Let this boy work at the mill no longer. He shall paint the walls of myprivate room. "

So he had talked to Ariston about what the pictures should be. The Greekhad found that this solemn, frowning Roman was really a kind man. Thenhope had sprung up in his breast and had sung of freedom. 

"I will do my best to please him, " he had thought. "When all the wallsare beautiful, perhaps he will smile at my work. Then I will clasp hisknees. I will tell him of my father, of Athens, of how I was stolen. Perhaps he will send me home. "

Now the painting was almost done. As he worked, a thousand pictures wereflashing through his mind. He saw his beloved old home in lovely Athens. He felt his father's hand on his, teaching him to paint. He gazed againat the Parthenon, more beautiful than a dream. Then he saw himselfplaying on the fishing boat on that terrible holiday. He saw the pirateship sail swiftly from behind a rocky point and pounce upon them. He sawhimself and his friends dragged aboard. He felt the tight rope on hiswrists as they bound him and threw him under the deck. He saw himselfstanding here in the market place of Pompeii. He heard himself sold fora slave. At that thought he threw down his brush and groaned. 

But soon he grew calmer. Perhaps the sweet drip of the fountain cooledhis hot thoughts. Perhaps the soft touch of the sun soothed his heart. He took up his brushes again and set to work. 

"The last figure shall be the most beautiful of all, " he said tohimself. "It is my own god, Apollo. "

So he worked tenderly on the face. With a few little strokes he made themouth smile kindly. He made the blue eyes deep and gentle. He lifted thegolden curls with a little breeze from Olympos. The god's smile cheeredhim. The beautiful colors filled his mind. He forgot his sorrows. Heforgot everything but his picture. Minute by minute it grew under hismoving brush. He smiled into the god's eyes. 

Meantime a great noise arose in the house. There were cries of fear. There was running of feet. 

"A great cloud!" "Earthquake!" "Fire and hail!" "Smoke from hell!" "Theend of the world!" "Run! Run!"

And men and women, all slaves, ran screaming through the house and outof the front door. But the painter only half heard the cries. His ears, his eyes, his thoughts were full of Apollo. 

For a little the house was still. Only the fountain and the shadows andthe artist's brush moved there. Then came a great noise as though thesky had split open. The low, sturdy house trembled. Ariston's brush wasshaken and blotted Apollo's eye. Then there was a clattering on thecement floor as of a million arrows. Ariston ran into the court. Fromthe heavens showered a hail of gray, soft little pebbles like beans. They burned his upturned face. They stung his bare arms. He gave a cryand ran back under the porch roof. Then he heard a shrill call above allthe clattering. It came from the far end of the house. Ariston ran backinto the private court. There lay Caius, his master's little sick son. His couch was under the open sky, and the gray hail was pelting downupon him. He was covering his head with his arms and wailing. 

"Little master!" called Ariston. "What is it? What has happened to us?""Oh, take me!" cried the little boy. 

"Where are the others?" asked Ariston. 

"They ran away, " answered Caius. "They were afraid, Look! O-o-h!"

He pointed to the sky and screamed with terror. 

Ariston looked. Behind the city lay a beautiful hill, green with trees. But now from the flat top towered a huge, black cloud. It rose straightlike a pine tree and then spread its black branches over the heavens. And from that cloud showered these hot, pelting pebbles of pumice stone. 

"It is a volcano, " cried Ariston. 

He had seen one spouting fire as he had voyaged on the pirate ship. 

"I want my father, " wailed the little boy. 

Then Ariston remembered that his master was away from home. He had gonein a ship to Rome to get a great physician for his sick boy. He had leftCaius in the charge of his nurse, for the boy's mother was dead. Butnow every slave had turned coward and had run away and left the littlemaster to die. 

Ariston pulled the couch into one of the rooms. Here the roof kept offthe hail of stones. 

"Your father is expected home to-day, master Caius, " said the Greek. "Hewill come. He never breaks his word. We will wait for him here. Thisstrange shower will soon be over. "

So he sat on the edge of the couch, and the little Roman laid his headin his slave's lap and sobbed. Ariston watched the falling pebbles. Theywere light and full of little holes. Every now and then black rocks ofthe size of his head whizzed through the air. Sometimes one fell intothe open cistern and the water hissed at its heat. The pebbles lay pileda foot deep all over the courtyard floor. And still they fell thick andfast. 

"Will it never stop?" thought Ariston. 

Several times the ground swayed under him. It felt like the moving of aship in a storm. Once there was thunder and a trembling of the house. Ariston was looking at a little bronze statue that stood on a tall, slender column. It tottered to and fro in the earthquake. Then it fell, crashing into the piled-up stones. In a few minutes the falling showerhad covered it. 

Ariston began to be more afraid. He thought of Death as he had paintedhim in his picture. He imagined that he saw him hiding behind a column. He thought he heard his cruel laugh. He tried to look up toward themountain, but the stones pelted him down. He felt terribly alone. Wasall the rest of the world dead? Or was every one else in some safeplace?

"Come, Caius, we must get away, " he cried. "We shall be buried here. "

He snatched up one of the blankets from the couch. He threw the endsover his shoulders and let a loop hang at his back. He stood the sickboy in this and wound the ends around them both. Caius was tied to hisslave's back. His heavy little head hung on Ariston's shoulder. Then theGreek tied a pillow over his own head. He snatched up a staff and ranfrom the house. He looked at his picture as he passed. He thought hesaw Death half rise from the ground. But Apollo seemed to smile at hisartist. 

At the front door Ariston stumbled. He found the street piled deep withthe gray, soft pebbles. He had to scramble up on his hands and knees. From the house opposite ran a man. He looked wild with fear. He wasclutching a little statue of gold. Ariston called to him, "Which way tothe gate?"

But the man did not hear. He rushed madly on. Ariston followed him. Itcheered the boy a little to see that somebody else was still alive inthe world. But he had a hard task. He could not run. The soft pebblescrunched under his feet and made him stumble. He leaned far forwardunder his heavy burden. The falling shower scorched his bare arms andlegs. Once a heavy stone struck him on his cushioned head, and he fell. But he was up in an instant. He looked around bewildered. His head wasringing. The air was hot and choking. The sun was gone. The shower wasblinding. Whose house was this? The door stood open. The court wasempty. Where was the city gate? Would he never get out? He did not knowthis street. Here on the corner was a wine shop with its open sides. Butno men stood there drinking. Wine cups were tipped over and broken onthe marble counter. Ariston stood in a daze and watched the winespilling into the street. 

Then a crowd came rushing past him. It was evidently a family fleeingfor their lives. Their mouths were open as though they were crying. ButAriston could not hear their voices. His ears shook with the roar of themountain. An old man was hugging a chest. Gold coins were spilling outas he ran. Another man was dragging a fainting woman. A young girl ranahead of them with white face and streaming hair. Ariston stumbled onafter this company. A great black slave came swiftly around a corner andran into him and knocked him over, but fled on without looking back. Asthe Greek boy fell forward, the rough little pebbles scoured his face. He lay there moaning. Then he began to forget his troubles. His achingbody began to rest. He thought he would sleep. He saw Apollo smiling. Then Caius struggled and cried out. He pulled at the blanket and triedto free himself. This roused Ariston, and he sat up. He felt the hotpebbles again. He heard the mountain roar. He dragged himself to hisfeet and started on. Suddenly the street led him out into a broad space. Ariston looked around him. All about stretched wide porches with theircolumns. Temple roofs rose above them. Statues stood high on theirpedestals. He was in the forum. The great open square was crowded withhurrying people. Under one of the porches Ariston saw the money changerslocking their boxes. From a wide doorway ran several men. They werecarrying great bundles of woolen cloth, richly embroidered and dyedwith precious purple. Down the great steps of Jupiter's temple ran apriest. Under his arms he clutched two large platters of gold. Men wererunning across the forum dragging bags behind them. 

Every one seemed trying to save his most precious things. And every onewas hurrying to the gate at the far end. Then that was the way out!Ariston picked up his heavy feet and ran. Suddenly the earth swayedunder him. He heard horrible thunder. He thought the mountain wasfalling upon him. He looked behind. He saw the columns of the porchtottering. A man was running out from one of the buildings. But as heran, the walls crashed down. The gallery above fell cracking. He wasburied. Ariston saw it all and cried out in horror. Then he prayed:

"O Lord Poseidon, shaker of the earth, save me! I am a Greek!"

Then he came out of the forum. A steep street sloped down to a gate. Ariver of people was pouring out there. The air was full of cries. Thegreat noise of the crowd made itself heard even in the noise of thevolcano. The streets were full of lost treasures. Men pushed and felland were trodden upon. But at last Ariston passed through the gatewayand was out of the city. He looked about. 

"It is no better, " he sobbed to himself. 

The air was thicker now. The shower had changed to hot dust as fineas ashes. It blurred his eyes. It stopped his nostrils. It choked hislungs. He tore his chiton from top to bottom and wrapped it about hismouth and nose. He looked back at Caius and pulled the blanket over hishead. Behind him a huge cloud was reaching out long black arms from themountain to catch him. Ahead, the sun was only a red wafer in the showerof ashes. Around him people were running off to hide under rocks ortrees or in the country houses. Some were running, running anywhere toget away. Out of one courtyard dashed a chariot. The driver was lashinghis horses. He pushed them ahead through the crowd. He knocked peopleover, but he did not stop to see what harm he had done. Curses flewafter him. He drove on down the road. 

Ariston remembered when he himself had been dragged up here two yearsago from the pirate ship. 

"This leads to the sea, " he thought. "I will go there. Perhaps I shallmeet my master, Tetreius. He will come by ship. Surely I shall find him. The gods will send him to me. O blessed gods!"

But what a sea! It roared and tossed and boiled. While Ariston looked, a ship was picked up and crushed and swallowed. The sea poured up thesteep shore for hundreds of feet. Then it rushed back and left itsstrange fish gasping on the dry land. Great rocks fell from the sky, and steam rose up as they splashed into the water. The sun was growingfainter. The black cloud was coming on. Soon it would be dark. And thenwhat? Ariston lay down where the last huge wave had cooled the ground. "It is all over, Caius, " he murmured. "I shall never see Athens again. "

For a while there were no more earthquakes. The sea grew a little lesswild. Then the half-fainting Ariston heard shouts. He lifted his head. A small boat had come ashore. The rowers had leaped out. They weredragging it up out of reach of the waves. 

"How strange!" thought Ariston. "They are not running away. They must bebrave. We are all cowards. "

"Wait for me here!" cried a lordly voice to the rowers. 

When he heard that voice Ariston struggled to his feet and called. 

"Marcus Tetreius! Master!"

He saw the man turn and run toward him. Then the boy toppled over andlay face down in the ashes. 

When he came to himself he felt a great shower of water in his face. Theburden was gone from his back. He was lying in a row boat, and the boatwas falling to the bottom of the sea. Then it was flung up to the skies. Tetreius was shouting orders. The rowers were streaming with sweat andsea water. 

In some way or other they all got up on the waiting ship. It alwaysseemed to Ariston as though a wave had thrown him there. Or had Poseidoncarried him? At any rate, the great oars of the galley were flying. Hecould hear every rower groan as he pulled at his oar. The sails, too, were spread. The master himself stood at the helm. His face was onegreat frown. The boat was flung up and down like a ball. Then felldarkness blacker than night. 

"Who can steer without sun or stars?" thought the boy. 

Then he remembered the look on his master's face as he stood at thetiller. Such a look Ariston had painted on Herakles' face as hestrangled the lion. 

"He will get us out, " thought the slave. 

For an hour the swift ship fought with the waves. The oarsmen wererowing for their lives. The master's arm was strong, and his heart wasnot for a minute afraid. The wind was helping. At last they reached calmwaters. 

"Thanks be to the gods!" cried Tetreius. "We are out of that boilingpot. "

At his words fire shot out of the mountain. It glowed red in the dustyair. It flung great red arms across the sky after the ship. Every manand spar and oar on the vessel seemed burning in its light. Then thefire died, and thick darkness swallowed everything. Ariston's heartseemed smothered in his breast. He heard the slaves on the rowers'benches scream with fear. Then he heard their leader crying to them. Heheard a whip whiz through the air and strike on bare shoulders. Thenthere was a crash as though the mountain had clapped its hands. Athicker shower of ashes filled the air. But the rowers were at theiroars again. The ship was flying. 

So for two hours or more Tetreius and his men fought for safety. Thenthey came out into fresher air and calmer water. Tetreius left therudder. "Let the men rest and thank the gods, " he said to his overseer. "We have come up out of the grave. "

When Ariston heard that, he remembered the Death he had left paintedon his master's wall. By that time the picture was surely buried understones and ashes. The boy covered his face with his ragged chiton andwept. He hardly knew what he was crying for--the slavery, the picture, the buried city, the fear of that horrid night, the sorrows of thepeople left back there, his father, his dear home in Athens. At lasthe fell asleep. The night was horrible with dreams--fire, earthquake, strangling ashes, cries, thunder, lightning. But his tired body heldhim asleep for several hours. Finally he awoke. He was lying on a softmattress. A warm blanket covered him. Clean air filled his nostrils. Thegentle light of dawn lay upon his eyes. A strange face bent over him. 

"It is only weariness, " a kind voice was saying. "He needs food and restmore than medicine. "

Then Ariston saw Tetreius, also, bending over him. The slave leaped tohis feet. He was ashamed to be caught asleep in his master's presence. He feared a frown for his laziness. 

"My picture is finished, master, " he cried, still half asleep. 

"And so is your slavery, " said Tetreius, and his eyes shone. 

"It was not a slave who carried my son out of hell on his back. It was ahero. " He turned around and called, "Come hither, my friends. "

Three Roman gentlemen stepped up. They looked kindly upon Ariston. 

"This is the lad who saved my son, " said Tetreius. "I call you towitness that he is no longer a slave. Ariston, I send you from my hand afree man. "

He struck his hand lightly on the Greek's shoulder, as all Roman mastersdid when they freed a slave. Ariston cried aloud with joy. He sank tohis knees weeping. But Tetreius went on. 

"This kind physician says that Caius will live. But he needs good airand good nursing. He must go to some one of Aesculapius' holy places. Heshall sleep in the temple and sit in the shady porches, and walk in thesacred groves. The wise priests will give him medicines. The god willsend healing dreams. Do you know of any such place, Ariston?"

The Greek thought of the temple and garden of Aesculapius on the sunnyside of the Acropolis at home in Athens. But he could not speak. Hegazed hungrily into Tetreius' eyes. The Roman smiled. 

"Ariston, this ship is bound for Athens! All my life I have lovedher--her statues, her poems, her great deeds. I have wished that my sonmight learn from her wise men. The volcano has buried my home, Ariston. But my wealth and my friends and my son are aboard this ship. What doyou say, my friend? Will you be our guide in Athens?" Ariston leaped upfrom his knees. A fire of joy burned in his eyes. He stretched his handsto the sky. 

"O blessed Herakles, " he cried, "again thou hast conquered Death. Thoudidst snatch us from the grave of Pompeii. Give health to this Romanboy. O fairest Athena, shed new beauty upon our violet crowned Athens. For there is coming to visit her the best of men, my master Tetreius. "

[Illustration: _A Marble Table_: The lions' heads were painted yellow. You can see a table much like this in the garden pictured later. ]

VESUVIUS

So a living city was buried in a few hours. Wooded hills and greenfields lay covered under great ash heaps. Ever since that terribleeruption Vesuvius has been restless. Sometimes she has been quiet fora hundred years or more and men have almost forgotten that she everthundered and spouted and buried cities. But all at once she would moveagain. She would shoot steam and ashes into the sky. At night firewould leap out of her top. A few times she sent out dust and lava anddestroyed houses and fields. A man who lived five hundred years afterPompeii was destroyed described Vesuvius as she was in his time. Hesaid:

"This mountain is steep and thick with woods below. Above, it is verycraggy and wild. At the top is a deep cave. It seems to reach the bottomof the mountain. If you peep in you can see fire. But this ordinarilykeeps in and does not trouble the people. But sometimes the mountainbellows like an ox. Soon after it casts out huge masses of cinders. Ifthese catch a man, he hath no way to save his life. If they fall uponhouses, the roofs are crushed by the weight. If the wind blow stiff, the ashes rise out of sight and are carried to far countries. But thisbellowing comes only every hundred years or thereabout. And the airaround the mountain is pure. None is more healthy. Physicians sendthither sick men to get well. "

The ashes that had covered Pompeii changed to rich soil. Green vinesand shrubs and trees sprang up and covered it, and flowers made it gay. Therefore people said to themselves:

"After all, she is a good old mountain. There will never be anothereruption while we are alive. "

So villages grew up around her feet. Farmers came and built littlehouses and planted crops and were happy working the fertile soil. Theydid not dream that they were living above a buried city, that the rootsof their vines sucked water from an old Roman house, that buried statueslay gazing up toward them as they worked. 

About three hundred years ago came another terrible eruption. Againthere were earthquakes. Again the mountain bellowed. Again black cloudsturned day into night. Lightning flashed from cloud to cloud. Tempestsof hot rain fell. The sea rushed back and forth on the shore. The wholetop of the mountain was blown out or sank into the melting pot. Sevenrivers of red-hot lava poured down the slopes. They flowed for fivemiles and fell into the sea. On the way they set fire to forests andcovered five little villages. Thousands of people were killed. 

Since that time Vesuvius has been very active. Almost every year therehave been eruptions with thunder and earthquakes and showers and lava. A few of these have done much damage. [Footnote: In this year, 1922, Vesuvius has been very active for the first time since 1906. It has beencausing considerable alarm in Naples. A new cone, 230 feet high, hasdeveloped. --Ed. ] And even on her calmest days a cloud has always hungabove the mountain top. Sometimes it has been thin and white--a cloud ofsteam. Sometimes it has been black and curling--a cloud of dust. 

Vesuvius is a dangerous thing, but very beautiful. It stands tall andpointed and graceful against a lovely sky. Its little cloud waves fromit like a plume. At night the mountain is swallowed by the dark. Butthe red rivers down its slopes glare in the sky. It is beautiful andterrible like a tiger. Thousands of people have loved it. They haveclimbed it and looked down its crater. It is like looking into the heartof the earth. One of these travelers wrote of his visit in 1793. Hesaid:

"For many days Vesuvius has been in action. I have watched it fromNaples. It is wonderfully beautiful and always changing. On one day hugeclouds poured out of the top. They hung in the sky far above, white assnow. Suddenly a cloud of smoke rushed out of another mouth. It was asblack as ink. The black column rose tall and curling beside the snowyclouds. That was a picture in black and white. But at another time I sawone in bright colors. 

"On a certain night there were towers and curls and waves and spires offlames leaping from the top of the mountain. Millions of red-hot stoneswere shot into the sky. They sailed upward for hundreds of feet, thencurved and fell like skyrockets. I looked through my telescope and sawliquid lava boiling and bubbling over the crater's edge. I could see itsplash upon the rocks and glide slowly down the sides of the cone. Thewhole top of the mountain was red with melted rock. And above it wavedthe changing flames of red, orange, yellow, blue. 

"On another night, as I was getting into bed, I felt an earthquake. Ilooked out of my window toward Vesuvius. All the top was glowing withred-hot matter. A terrible roaring came from the mountain. In an instantfire shot high into the air. The red column curved and showered thewhole cone. In half a minute came another earthquake shock. My doors andwindows rattled. Things were shaken from my table to the floor. Thencame the thunder of an explosion from the mountain and another showerof fire. After a few seconds there were noises like the trampling ofhorses' hoofs. It was, of course, the noise of the shot-out stonesfalling upon the rocks of the mountainsides eight miles away. 

"I decided to ascend the volcano and see the crater from which all theseinteresting things came. A few friends went with me. For most of the waywe traveled on horses. After two or three hours we reached the bottom ofthe cone of rocks and ashes. From there we had to go on foot. We wentover to the river of red-hot lava. We planned to walk up along its edge. But the hot rock was smoking, and the wind blew the smoke into ourfaces. A thick mist of fine ashes from the crater almost suffocated us. Sulphur fumes blew toward us and choked us. I said, "'We must cross the stream of lava. On the other side the wind will nottrouble us. '

"'Cross that melted rock?' my friends cried out. 'We should sink into itand be burned alive. '

"But as we stood talking great stones were thrown out of the volcano. They rolled down the mountainside close to us. If they had struck usit would have been death. There was only one way to save ourselves. Icovered my face with my hat and rushed across the stream of lava. Themelted rock was so thick and heavy that I did not sink in. I only burnedmy boots and scorched my hands. My friends followed me. On that side wewere safe. We climbed for half an hour. Then we came to the head of ourred river. It did not flow over the edge of the crater. Many feet downfrom the top it had torn a hole through the cone. I shall never forgetthe sight as long as I live. There was a vast arch in the black rock. From this arch rushed a clear torrent of lava. It flowed smoothly likehoney. It glowed with all the splendor of the sun. It looked thin likegolden water. 

"'I could stir it with a stick, ' said one of my friends. 

"'I doubt it, ' I said. 'See how slowly it flows. It must be very thickand heavy. '

"To test it we threw pebbles into it. They did not sink, but floated onlike corks. We rolled in heavier stones of seventy or eighty pounds. They only made shallow dents in the stream and floated down with thecurrent. A great rock of three hundred pounds lay near. I raised it uponend and let it fall into the lava. Very slowly it sank and disappeared. 

"As the stream flowed on it spread out wider over the mountain. Fartherdown the slope it grew darker and harder. It started from the arch likemelted gold. Then it changed to orange, to bright red, to dark red, tobrown, as it cooled. At the lower end it was black and hard and brokenlike cinders. 

"We climbed a little higher above the arch. There was a kind of chimneyin the rock. Smoke and stream were coming out of it. I went close. Thefumes of sulphur choked me. I reached out and picked some lumps of puresulphur from the edge of the rock. For one moment the smoke ceased. Iheld my breath and looked down the hole. I saw the glare of red-hot lavaflowing beneath. The mountain was a pot, full of boiling rock. "

Another man writes of a visit in 1868, a quieter year. 

"At first we climbed gentle slopes through vineyards and fields andvillages. Sometimes we came suddenly upon a black line in a greenmeadow. A few years before it had flowed down red-hot. Further up wereached large stretches of rock. Here wild vines and lupines weregrowing in patches where the lava had decayed into soil. Then camebare slopes with dark hollow and sharp ridges. We walked on old stifflava-streams. Sometimes we had to plod through piles of coarse, porouscinders. Sometimes we climbed over tangled, lumpy beds of twisted, shinyrock. Sometimes we looked into dark arched tunnels. Red streams hadonce flowed out of them. A few times we passed near fresh cracks in themountain. Here steam puffed out. 

"At last we reached a broad, hot piece of ground. Here were smokingholes. The night before I had looked at them with a telescope from thefoot of the mountain. I had seen red rivers flowing from them. Now theywere empty. Last night's lava lay on the slope, cooled and black. Iwas standing on it. My feet grew hot. I had to keep moving. The air Ibreathed was warm and smelled like that of an iron foundry. I pushed mypole into a crack in the rock. The wood caught fire. I was standing on athin crust. What was below? I broke out a piece of the hard lava. A redspot glared up at me. Under the crust red-hot lava was still flowing. Iknew that it would be several years before it would be perfectly cool. "

So for three centuries people have watched Vesuvius at work. But she ismuch older than that--thousands of years older--older than any city orcountry or people in the world. In all that time she has poured outmillions of tons of matter--lava, huge glassy boulders, little pebblesof pumice stone, long shining hairs, fine dust or ashes. All thesethings are different forms of melted rock. Sometimes the steam blows theliquid into fine dust; sometimes it breaks it into little pieces andfills them with bubbles. At another time the steam is not so strong andonly pushes the stuff out gently over the crater's edge. Many differentminerals are found in these rocks--iron, copper, lead, mica, zinc, sulphur. Some pieces are beautiful in color--blue, green, red, yellow. Precious stones have sometimes been found--garnets, topaz, quartz, tourmaline, lapis lazuli. But most of the stone is dull black or brownor gray. 

All this heavy matter drops close to the mountain. And on calm days theashes, also, fall near at home. Indeed, the volcano has built up its ownmountain. But a heavy wind often carries the fine dust for hundreds ofmiles. Once it was blown as far as Constantinople and it darkened thesun and frightened people there. Some of the ashes fall into the sea. For years the currents carry them about from shore to shore. At lastthey settle to the bottom and make clay or sand or mud. The materiallies there for thousands of years and is hard packed into a soft finegrained rock, called tufa. The city of Naples to-day is built of suchstone that once lay under the sea. An earthquake long ago lifted theocean bottom and turned it into dry land. Now men live upon it and cutstreets in it and grow crops on it. 

So for many miles about, Vesuvius has been making earth. Her ashes liehundreds of feet deep. Men dig wells and still find only material thathas been thrown out of the volcano. When this matter grows old and liesunder the sun and rain it turns to good soil. The acids of water and airand plants eat into it. Rain wears it away. Plant roots crack the rocksopen. The top layer becomes powdered and rotted and mixed with vegetableloam and is fertile soil. So the country all around the volcano is arich garden. Tomatoes, melons, grapes, olives, figs, cover the land. 

But Vesuvius alone has not made all this ground. She is in a nest ofvolcanoes. They have all been at work like her, spouting ashes andpumice and rocks and lava. Ten miles away is a wide stretch of countrywhere there are more than a dozen old craters. Twenty miles out in theblue bay a volcano stands up out of the water. A hundred miles southis a group of small volcanic islands. They have hot springs. One has avolcano that spouts every five or six minutes. At night it is like alighthouse for sailors. One of these Islands is only two thousand yearsold. The men of Pompeii saw it pushed up out of the sea during anearthquake. A little farther south is Mt. Aetna in Sicily. It is agreater mountain than Vesuvius and has done more work than she has done. So all the southern part of Italy seems to be the home of volcanoes andearthquakes. 

There are many other such places scattered over the world--Iceland, Mexico, South America, Japan, the Sandwich Islands. Here the sameterrible play is going on--thunder, clouds, falling ashes, scaldingrain, flowing lava. The earth is being turned inside out, and men arelearning what she is made of. 

[ILLUSTRATION: _Bronze lampholder_: Five lamps hung from the branchesof this bronze tree. It was twenty inches high. ]

POMPEII TO-DAY

Years came and went and changed the world. The old gods died, and thenew religion of Christ grew strong. The old temples fell into ruins, andnew churches were built in their places. Instead of the old Roman in hiswhite toga came merchants in crimson velvet and knights in steel armorand gentlemen in ruffles and modern men in plain clothes. 

Among all these changes, Pompeii was almost forgotten. But after a longwhile people began to be much interested in ancient Italy. They read oldRoman books, and learned of her wonderful cities. They began to dig hereand there and find beautiful statues and vases and jewels. They read thestory of Pompeii in an old Roman book--a whole city suddenly buried justas her people had left her!

"There we should find treasures!" they said. "We should see houses, temples, shops, streets, as they were seventeen hundred years ago. Weshould find them full of statues and rich things. Perhaps we should findsome of the people who lived in ancient days. But where to dig?"

Their question was answered by accident. At that time certain men weremaking a tunnel to carry spring water from the hills across the countryto a little town near Naples. The tunnel happened to pass over buriedPompeii. They dug up some blocks of stone with Latin inscriptions carvedon them. After that other people found little ancient relics near thesame place. 

"This must be where Pompeii lies buried, " the wise men said. 

They began to excavate. That was about two hundred years ago. Ever sincethat time the work has gone on. Sometimes people have been discouragedand have given up. At other times six hundred men have been workingbusily. Kings have given money. Emperors and princes and queens havevisited the excavations. Artists have made pictures of the ruins, andscholars have written books about them. But it is a great task touncover a whole city that is buried ten or twelve feet deep. Theexcavation is not yet finished. Perhaps when you are old men and womenthe work will be completed, and a whole Roman city will be open to youreyes. 

But even as it is to-day, that ghost of a city is among the world'swonders. There is the thick stone wall that goes all about the town. Onits wide top the soldiers used to stand to fight in ancient days. Nowthe stones are fallen; its towers are broken; its gates are open. Yetthere the battered little giant stands at its task of protecting thetown. Out of its eight gates stretch the paved streets. 

Perhaps some day you will cross the ocean to visit this "dead city. "It lies on a slope at the foot of Vesuvius. Behind stands the tall, graceful volcano with its floating feather of steam and smoke. In frontlies a little plain, and beyond it a long ridge of steep mountains. Offat the side shines the dark blue sea with island peaks rising out of it. On hillsides and plain are green vineyards and dark forests dotted withwhite farmhouses. 

In some places there are high mounds of dirt outside the city wall. Theyare made by the ashes that have been dug out by the excavators and piledhere. If you climb one of them you will be able to look over the city. You will find it a little place--less than a mile long and half a milewide inside its ragged wall. And yet many thousand people used to livehere. So the houses had to be crowded together. You will see no grassylawns nor vacant lots nor playgrounds nor parks with pleasant trees. Many narrow streets cross one another and cut the city into solid blocksof buildings. You will be confused because you will see thousands ofbroken walls standing up, but no roofs. They are gone--crushed by thepiling ashes long ago. 

At last you will come down and go in at one of the gates through therough, thick wall, past the empty watch towers. You will tread the verypaving stones that men's feet trampled nineteen hundred years ago asthey fled from the volcano. You will climb a steep, narrow street. Thisis the street the fishermen and sailors used in olden times when theycame in from the river or sea, carrying baskets of fish or leading mulesloaded with goods from their ships. This is the street where peoplepoured out to the sea on that terrible day of the eruption. 

You will pass a ruined temple of Apollo with standing columns and lonelyaltar and steps that lead to a room that is gone. A little farther onyou will come out into a large open paved space. It is the forum. Thisused to be the busiest place in all Pompeii. At certain hours of the dayit was filled with little tables and with merchants calling out and withgentlemen and slaves buying good's. But now it is empty and very still. Around the sides a few beautiful columns are yet standing with carvedmarble at the top connecting them. But others lie broken, and most ofthem are gone entirely. This is all that is left of the porches wheremen used to walk and talk of business and war and politics and gossip. 

At one end of the forum is a high stone platform and wide stone stepsleading up to a row of broken columns in front of a fallen wall. This isthe ruin of the temple of Jupiter, the great Roman god. Daily, men usedto come here to pray before a statue in a dim room. Here, in the ruins, the excavators found the head of that statue--a beautiful marble thingwith long curling hair and beard, and calm face. They found, too, agreat broken body of marble. And in that large body a smaller statue waspartly carved. This was a puzzling thing, but the excavators studied itout at last. They said:

"Old Roman books tell us that sixteen years before the great eruptionthere had been another earthquake. It had shaken down many buildings andhad cracked many walls. But the people loved their city, and when theearthquake was over, they began to rebuild and to make their houses andtemples better than ever. We have found many signs of that earthquake. We have found uncarved blocks of marble in the forum. Evidently masonswere at work there when the eruption stopped them. We have found rebuiltwalls in some of the houses. And here is the temple of Jupiter beingused as a marble shop. Probably the early earthquake had shaken down andbroken the statue of the god. A sculptor was set to work to carve a newone from the ruin. But suddenly the volcano burst forth, the artistdropped his chisel and mallet, and here we have found his unfinishedwork--a statue within a statue. "

Behind the roofless porches of the forum are other ruinedbuildings--where the officers of the city did business, where thecitizens met to vote, where tailors spread out their cloth and soldrobes and cloaks. One large market building is particularly interesting. You will enter a courtyard with walls all around it and signs of lostporches. Broken partitions show where little stalls used to open uponthe court. Other stalls opened upon the street. In some of these theexcavators found, buried in the ashes and charred by the fire, figs, chestnuts, plums, grapes, glass dishes of fruit, loaves of bread, andlittle cakes. Were customers buying the night's dessert when Vesuviusfrightened them away? In a cool corner of the building is a fish marketwith sloping marble counter. Near it in the middle of the courtyard arethe bases of columns arranged in a circle around a deep basin in thefloor. In the bottom of this basin the excavators found a thick layerof fish scales. Evidently the masters used to buy their fish from themarket in the corner. Then the slaves carried them here to the shadedpool of water and cleaned them and scaled them and washed them. Inanother corner the excavators found skeletons of sheep. Here was apen for live animals which a man might buy for his banquet or for asacrifice to his gods. His slave would lead the sheep away through thecrowds. But on that terrible day when the volcano belched, the poorbleating animals were deserted. Their pen held them and the ashescovered them and to-day we can see their skeletons. 

The walls around the market are still standing, though the top is brokenand the roof is fallen. They are still covered with paintings. If youwill look at them you can guess what used to be for sale here. There aregame birds and fish and wine jars all pictured here in beautiful colors. There are cupids playing about a flour mill and cupids weaving garlands. There are also pictures of the gods and heroes and the deeds they did. Imagine this painted market full of chattering people, the little shopsgay with piles of beautiful fruit and vegetables, the graceful columnsand dark porches adding beauty. Imagine these people crying out andrunning and these columns swaying and falling when Vesuvius bellowed andshook the earth. And yet we can see the very fruits that men were buyingand the pictures they were enjoying. 

The forum with its markets and shops and offices and temples and statueswas the very heart of the city. Many streets led into it. Perhaps youwill walk down one of them, between broken walls, past open doorways. After several street corners you will come to a large building with highwalls still standing and with tall, arched entrance. This also was oneof the gay places in Pompeii, for it was a bathhouse. Every day allthe ladies and gentlemen of the town came strolling toward it down thestreets. The men went in at the wide doorway. The women turned andentered their own apartments around the corner. And as they walkedtoward the entrance they passed little shops built into the walls ofthe bathhouse. At every stall stood the shopkeeper, bowing, smiling, begging, calling. "Perfumes, sweet lady!"

"Rings, rings, beautiful madam, for your beautiful fingers!"

"Oil for your body, sir, after the bath!"

"A taste of sweets, madam, before you enter! Honey cakes of my ownmaking!"

"Don't forget to buy my dressing for your hair before you go in! You'llget nothing like it in there. "

So they chattered and called and coaxed. Some of the people bought, andsome went laughing by and entered the bathhouse. As the gentlemen wentin, a large court opened before them. Here were men bowling or jumpingor running or punching the bag or playing ball or taking some other kindof exercise before the bath. Others were resting in the shade of theporches. A poet sat in a cool corner reading his verses to a fewlisteners. Some men, after their games, were scraping their sweatingbodies with the strigil. Others were splashing in the marbleswimming tank. Here and there barbers were working over handsomegentlemen--smoothing their faces, perfuming their hair, polishing theirnails. There was talk and laughter everywhere. Men were lazily comingand going through a door that led into the baths. There were large roomswith high ceilings and painted walls. In one we can still see the roundmarble basin. The walls are painted with trees and birds and swimmingfish and statues. It was like bathing in a beautiful garden to bathehere. Another room was for the hot bath, with double walls and hot aircirculating between to make the whole room warm. The bathhouse was agreat building full of comforts. No wonder that all the idle Pompeianscame here to bathe, to play, to visit, to tell and hear the news. It wasa gay and noisy place. We have a letter that one of those old Romanswrote to a friend. He says:

"I am living near a bath. Sounds are heard on all sides. The men ofstrong muscle exercise and swing the heavy lead weights. I hear theirgroans as they strain, and the whistling of their breath. I hear themassagist slapping a lazy fellow who is being rubbed with ointment. Aball player begins to play and counts his throws. Perhaps there is asudden quarrel, or a thief is caught, or some one is singing in thebath. And the bathers plunge into the swimming tank with loud splashes. Above all the din you hear the calls of the hair puller and the sellersof cakes and sweetmeats and sausages. "

After you leave the baths perhaps you will turn down Stabian Street. Ithas narrow sidewalks. The broken walls of houses fence it in closelyon both sides and cast black shadows across it. It is paved with cleanblocks of lava. You will see wheel ruts worn deep in the hard stone. Almost two thousand years old they are, made by the carts of thefarmers, perhaps, who brought in vegetables for the market. At thestreet crossings you will see three or four big stone blocks standingup above the pavement. They are stepping-stones for rainy weather. Evidently floods used to pour down these sloping streets. You canimagine little Roman boys skipping across from block to block and tryingto keep their sandals dry. 

The street will lead you to the district of good houses where thewealthy men lived. Through open doorways you will get glimpses into theold ruined courtyards. It is hard guessing how the rooms used to look. But when you come to the door of the house of Vettius you will cry outwith wonder. There is a lovely garden in the corner of the house. A longpassage leads to it straight from the street. Around it runs a pavedporch with pretty columns. Here you will walk in the shade and look outat the gay little garden, blooming in the sunshine. In every corner tinystreams of water spurt from little statues of bronze and marble andtrickle into cool basins. Marble tables stand among the flowers. Youwill half expect a slave to bring out old drinking cups and wine bowlsand set them here for his master's pleasure, or tablets and stylus forhim to write his letters. Everything is in order and beautiful. It wasnot quite so when the excavators uncovered this house. The statues werethrown down. The flowers were scorched and dead under the piled-upashes. But it was easy for the modern excavators to tell from the groundwhere the flower beds had been and where the gravel paths. Even thelead water pipe that carried the stream to the fountain needed littlerepairing. So the excavators set up the statues, cleaned the marbletables and benches, planted shrubs and flowers, repaired the porch roof, and we have a garden such as the old Romans loved and such as manyhouses in Pompeii had. 

Several rooms look out upon this garden. One of them is perhaps the mostinteresting place in all Pompeii. You will walk into it and look aroundand laugh with delight. The whole wall is painted with pictures, big andlittle--pictures of columns and roofs, of plants and animals, of menand gods. They are all framed in with wide spaces of beautiful red. Andtucked away between them in narrow bands of black are the gayest littlescenes in the world. They are worth going all the way across the oceanto see. Psyches--delicate little winged girls like fairies--are pickingslender flowers and putting them into tall, graceful baskets. They areso light and so tiny that they seem to be flitting along the walllike bright butterflies. In other panels plump little cupids--wingedboys--are playing at being men. They are picking grapes and working awine press and selling wine. It is big work for tiny creatures, and theymust kick up their dimpled legs and puff out their chubby cheeks to doit. They are melting gold and carrying gold dishes and selling jewelryand swinging a blacksmith's hammer with their fat little arms. They arecarrying roses to market on a ragged goat and weaving rose garlands andselling them to an elegant little lady. Everywhere these gay littlecreatures are skipping about at their play among the beautiful redspaces and large pictures. This was surely a charming dining room in theold days. The guests must have been merry every time their eyes lightedupon the bright wall. And if they looked out at the open side, theresmiled the garden with its flowers and statues and splashing fountainsand columns. 

There lived in this house two men by the name of Vettius. We know thisbecause the excavators found here two seals. In those days men fastenedtheir letters and receipts and bills with wax. While the wax was softthey stamped their names in it with a metal seal. On the stamps thatwere found in this house were carved Aulus Vettius Restitutus and AulusVettius Conviva. Perhaps they were freedmen who once had been slaves ofAulus Vettius. But they must have earned a fortune for themselves, forthere were two money chests in the house. And they must have had slavesof their own to take care of their twenty rooms and more. In the tinykitchen the excavators found a good store of charcoal and the ashes ofa little fire on top of the stone stove. And on its three little legsa bronze dish was sitting over the dead fire. A slave must have beencooking his master's dinner when the volcano frightened him away. 

Vettius' dining room is empty of its wooden tables and couches. But somehouses had stone ones built in their gardens for pleasant summer days. These the ashes did not crush, and they are still in place. Columnsstood about the tables and vines climbed up them and across to make coolshade. The tables were always long and narrow and built around threesides of a rectangle. Low couches stand along the outside edges. Hereguests used to lie propped up on their left elbows with pretty cushionsto make them comfortable. In the open space in the middle of the squareservants came and went and passed the dishes across the narrow tables. Children used to have little wooden stools and sit in this middle spaceopposite their elders. But in one old ruined garden dining room you willsee a little stone bench for the children, built along the end of thetable. It must have been pleasant to have supper there with the sunsetcoloring the sky, behind old Vesuvius, the cool breeze shaking theleaves of the garden shrubs, and the fountain tinkling, and a birdchirping in a corner, and the shadows beginning to creep under the longporches, and the tiny flames of lamps fluttering in the dusky roomsbehind. 

After you leave the house of Vettius and walk down the street, you willcome to a certain door. In the sidewalk before it you will see "Have"spelled with bits of colored marble. It is the old Latin word for"Welcome. " It is too pleasant an invitation to refuse. Go in throughthe high doorway and down the narrow passage to the atrium. Every Romanhouse had this atrium. It is like a large reception hall with manyrooms opening off it--bedrooms, dining rooms, sitting rooms. Beautifulhangings instead of doors used to shut these rooms in. The atrium had anopening in the roof where the sun shone in and softly lighted the bigroom. Here the master used to receive his guests. In the house ofVettius the two money chests were found in the atrium. In this same roomin the house of "Welcome, " there was found on the floor a little bronzestatue, a dancing faun, one of the gay friends of Dionysus. It is a tinything only two feet high, but so pretty that the excavators named thehouse after it--The House of the Faun. Evidently the old owner lovedbeautiful things and had money to buy them. Even the floors of some ofhis rooms are made in mosaic pictures. There are doves at play, andducks and fish and shells all laid under your feet in bright bits ofcolored marble. And beyond the pleasant court with its porches andgarden is a large sitting room. In the floor of this the excavatorsfound the most wonderful mosaic picture of all, a picture of a battle, with waving spears and prancing horses and fallen men. Two kings arefacing each other to fight--Darius, king of Persia, standing in hischariot, and Alexander, king of Greece, riding his war horse. The bitsof stone are so small and of such perfect color that the mosaic lookslike a beautiful painting. Imagine how the excavators' hearts leapedwhen the spades took the gray ashes off this bright picture. It was tooprecious a thing to leave here in the rain and wind. So the excavatorscarefully took it up and put it into the museum of Naples where thereare other valuable things from Pompeii. 

There are many other houses almost as pleasant and beautiful as thisHouse of the Faun. Every one has its atrium and its sunny court and itsfountains and statues and its painted walls. But Pompeii was a city ofbusiness, too, and had many workshops. There is a dye shop where theexcavators found large lead pots and glass bottles still full of dye. There are cleaners' shops where the slaves used to take their masters'robes to be cleaned. Here the excavators found vats and white clayfor cleaning, and pictures on the wall showing men at work. There aretanneries where leather was made. The rusted tools were found which themen had thrown down so long ago. There is a pottery shop with two ovensfor baking the vases. On a certain street corner you will see an oldwine shop. It is a little room cut into the corner wall of a greathouse. Its two sides are open upon the street with broad marblecounters. Below the counters are big, deep jars. Their open tops thrustthemselves through the slab. You can look into their mouths where theshopkeeper used to dip out the wine. On the walls of the room are marksthat show where shelves hung in ancient days to hold cups and glasses. In the outer edge of the sidewalk before the shop are two round holescut into the stone. Long ago poles were thrust into them to hold anawning that shaded the walk in front of the counters. We can imagine menstopping in this pleasant shade as they passed. The busy slave insidethe shop whips out a cup and a graceful, long-handled ladle and dips outthe sweet-smelling wine from the wide-mouthed jar. And we can imaginehow the cups fell clattering from the men's hands when Vesuviusthundered. In one shop, indeed, the excavators found an overturned cupon the counter and a wine stain on the marble. But the most interestingshops are the bakeries. There were twenty of them in Pompeii. You willsee the ovens in the courtyard. They are big beehives built of stone orbrick. The baker made a fire inside and let the walls become hot. Thenhe raked out the coals and cleaned the floor and put in his bread. Thehot walls baked the loaves. In one oven the excavators found a burnedloaf eighteen hundred years old. When the earthquake shook his house, did the baker snatch out the rest of the ovenful to feed his hungryfamily as they groped about for safety in the terrible darkness?In several bakeries you will see, also, the mills. They are greatmortar-shaped things standing taller than a man. The heavy stone aboveturned around upon the stone below. A man poured wheat in at the top. Itfell down and was ground between the two stones and dropped out at thebottom as flour. A horse or donkey was hitched to the mill to turn it. Around and around he walked all day. He was blindfolded to prevent hisbecoming dizzy. You will see on the stone floor in one bakery the paththat was made by years of this walking. In the old days this silentempty court must have been an interesting place. The donkey's hoofs beatlazy time on the stone floor. Now and then a slave lifted up a bag ofwheat and poured it into the mill or scooped out the white flour fromthe trough at the bottom. Another man sifted the flour and the breezeblew the white dust over his bare arms. Some of the ovens were smokingand glowing with fresh fire. Others were shut, with the browning breadinside, and a good smell hung in the air. And out in front was a littleshop where the master sold the thin loaves and the fancy little cakes. 

In the hundreds of houses and shops of this little town the excavatorshave found bronze tables and lamps and lamp stands and wine jars andkitchen pots and pans and spoons and glass vases and silver cups andgold hairpins and jewelry and ivory combs and bronze strigils andmirrors and several statues of bronze and marble. But where theyhad hoped to find thousands of precious things they have found onlyhundreds. Many pedestals are empty of their statues. Here and there thevery paintings have been cut from the walls. Those are the pictures weshould most like to see. How beautiful could they have been?

"Evidently men came back soon after the eruption, " say the excavators. "The tops of their ruined houses must have stood up above the ashes. They dug down and rescued their most precious things. We have even foundbroken places in walls where we think men dug tunnels from one house toanother. That is why the temple and market place have so few statues. That is why we find so little jewelry and money and dishes. But we haveenough. The city is our treasure. "

One rich find they did make, however. There was a pleasant farmhouse outof town on the slope of Vesuvius. Evidently the man who owned it hada vineyard and an olive grove and grain fields. For there are olivepresses and wine presses and a great court full of vats for making wineand a floor for threshing wheat and a mill for grinding flour and astable and a wide courtyard that must have held many carts. And thereare bathrooms and many pleasant rooms besides. In the room with the winepresses was a stone cistern for storing the fresh grape juice. Herethe excavators found a treasure and a mystery. In this cistern lay theskeleton of a man. With him were a thousand pieces of gold money, somegold jewelry, and a wonderful dinner set of silver dishes. There are ahundred and three pieces--plates, platters, cups, bowls. And every onehas beaten up from it beautiful designs of flowers and people. An artistmust have made them, and a rich man must have bought them. How did theycome here in this farmhouse? They must have been meant for a nobleman'stable. Had some thief stolen them and hidden here, only to be caughtby the volcano? Did some rich lady of the city have this farm for hercountry place? And had she sent her treasure here to escape when thevolcano burst forth? At any rate here it lay for eighteen hundred years. And now it is in a museum in Paris, far from its old owner's home. 

In this buried city we find the houses in which men lived, the picturesthey loved, the food they ate, the jewels they wore, the cups they drankfrom. But what of the people themselves? Were they real men and women?How did they look? Did they all escape? Not all, for many skeletons havebeen found here and there through the city--in the market place, in thestreets, in the houses. And sometimes the excavators have found stillstranger, sadder things. Often as a man has been digging in thehard-packed ashes, his spade has struck into a hole. Then he has calledthe chief excavator. 

"Let us see what it is, " the excavator has said, "Perhaps it will besomething interesting. "

So they have mixed plaster and poured it into the hole. They have givenit a little time to harden and then have dug away the ashes from aroundit. In that way they have made a plaster cast just the shape of thehole. And several times when they have uncovered their cast they havefound it to be the form of a man or woman or child. Perhaps the personhad been hurrying through the street and had stumbled and fallen. Thegases had choked him, the ashes had slowly covered him. Under themoistening rain and the pressure of all the hundreds of years the asheshad hardened almost to stone. Meantime the body had decayed and had sunkdown into a handful of dust. But the hardened ashes still stood firmaround the space where the body had been. When this hole was filled withplaster, the cast took just the form of the one who had been buriedthere so long ago--the folds of his clothes, the ring on his finger, thegirl's knot of hair, the negro slave's woolly head. So we can reallylook upon the faces of some of the ancient people of Pompeii. And inanother way we can learn the names of many of them. 

One of the streets that leads out from the wall is called the "Street ofTombs. " It is the ancient burying ground. You will walk along the pavedstreet between rows of monuments. Some will be like great square altarsof marble beautifully carved. Some will be tall platforms with stepsleading up. There will be marble benches where you may sit and think ofthe old Pompeians who were twice buried in their beautiful tombs. Andthere on the marble monument you will see their names carved in oldLatin letters, and kind things that their friends said about them. Thereare:

Marcus Cerrinius Restitutus; Aulus Veius, who was several times anofficer of the city; Mamia, a priestess; Marcus Porcius; NumeriusIstacidius and his wife and daughter and others of his family, all ina great tomb standing on a high platform; Titus Terentius Felix, whosewife, Fabia Sabina, built his tomb; Tyche, a slave; Aulus UmbriciusScaurus, whose statue was set up in the market place to do him honor;Gaius Calventius Quietus, who was given a seat of honor at the theateron account of his generosity; Nęvoleia Tyche, who had once been a slave, but who had been freed, had married, and grown wealthy and had slaves ofher own; Gnęus Vibius Saturninus, whose freedman built his tomb; MarcusArrius Diomedes, a freedman; Numerius Velasius Gratus, twelve years old;Salvinus, six years old; and many another. 

After seeing the tombs and houses and shops you will leave that littlecity, I think, feeling that the people of ancient times were much likeus, that men and mountains have done wonderful things in this old world, that it is good to know how people of other times lived and worked anddied. 

PICTURES OF POMPEII

A ROMAN BOY. 

This statue, now in the Metropolitan Museum, was found at Pompeii. Probably Caius was dressed just like this, and carried such a stick whenhe played in his father's courtyard. 

THE CITY OF NAPLES, WITH MOUNT VESUVIUS ACROSS THE BAY. 

VESUVIUS IN ERUPTION, FROM AN AIRPLANE. 

Nowadays men know from history what may happen when Vesuvius wakes. Butin 79 A. D. , when Pompeii was buried, the mountain had slept for hundredsof years, and no man knew that an eruption might bury a city. 

POMPEII FROM AN AIRPLANE. 

The roofs are all gone and all the partitions inside the houses show. That is why it all looks so crowded and confused. But if you study itcarefully you can see some interesting things. The big open space isthe forum. It is about five hundred feet long, running northeast andsouthwest. South of it is the temple of Apollo. North of it, where yousee the bases of columns in a circle, was the market. Next to the marketis the place where the gods of the city were worshipped. The broadstreet beside the forum running southeast is the one down which Aristonfled. Then he turned into the forum, ran out the gate near the lower endinto the steep street that runs southwest and ends at a city gate nearthe sea. 

NOLA STREET AND THE TEMPLE OF FORTUNE. 

You must imagine this temple with an altar in front, a broad flight ofsteps, and a portico of beautiful columns. You can see the street pavedwith blocks of lava, the deep wheel ruts, and the stepping stones forrainy weather. 

THE STABIAN GATE. 

Pompeii was surrounded by two high walls fifteen feet apart, with earthbetween. An embankment of earth was piled up inside also. This is one ofthe eight gates in the wall. IN THE STREET OF TOMBS. 

On the tomb of Nęvoleia Tyche was a carving of a ship gliding into port, the sailors furling the sails. Within this tomb is a chamber wherefuneral urns stand, containing the ashes of Tyche and her husband, andof the slaves they had freed. Pompeians always burned the bodies of thedead. 

THE AMPHITHEATER. 

Like other Roman towns, Pompeii had an amphitheater. Here twentythousand people could come and watch the gladiators fight in pairs tillone was killed. Then the dead body was dragged off, and another pairappeared and fought. Sometimes the gladiators were prisoners captured inwar, like the famous Spartacus; sometimes they were slaves; sometimescriminals condemned to death. Sometimes a man was pitted against a wildbeast; sometimes two wild beasts fought each other. The amphitheater hadno roof. Vesuvius, with its column of smoke, was in plain view from theseats. There was a great awning to protect the spectators. The lowerseats were for officials and distinguished people; for the middle rowsthere was an admission fee; all the upper seats were free. 

RUINS OF THE GREAT STABIAN BATHS. 

A few large houses had baths of their own, but most people went everyday to a great public bath which was a very gay place. This open courtwhich you see, was for games. 

THE RUINED TEMPLE OF APOLLO. 

The temple was built on a high foundation. A broad flight of steps ledup to it, with an altar at the foot. There was a porch all round it heldup by a row of columns. Some of the columns have stood up through allthe earthquakes and eruptions of two thousand years. Inside the porchwas a small room for the statue of Apollo. In the paved court aroundthis temple were many altars and statues of the gods. This was at onetime the most important temple in Pompeii. 

THE SCHOOL OF THE GLADIATORS. 

In this large open court the gladiators had their training and practice. In small cells around the court they lived. They were kept under closeguard, for they were dangerous men. Sixty-three skeletons were foundhere, many of them in irons. 

THE SMALLER THEATER. 

Pompeii had two theaters for plays and music, besides the amphitheaterwhere the gladiators fought. The smaller theater, unlike the others, hada roof. It seated fifteen hundred people. We think perhaps contests inmusic were held here. 

A SACRIFICE. 

A boar, a ram, and a bull are to be killed, and a part of the flesh isto be burned on the altar to please the gods. 

A SCENE IN THE FORUM. 

On the walls of a room in a house in Pompeii men found this picture, showing how interesting the life of the forum was. At the left is atable where a man has kitchen utensils for sale. But he is dreaming anddoes not see a customer coming. So his friend is waking him up. Near himis a shoemaker selling sandals to some women. 

IVORY HAIRPINS. 

Underneath are two ivory toilet boxes. One was probably for perfumedoil. 

APPLIANCES FOR THE BATH. 

These were found hanging in a ring in one of the great public baths. Yousee a flask for oil, a saucer to pour the oil into, and four scrapers toscrape off the oil and dirt before a plunge. 

PERISTYLE OF THE HOUSE OF THE VETTII. 

With the columns and tables and statues that were found, this court hasbeen built on the site of an old ruined villa. Flowers bloom and thefountain plays in it to-day just as they did over two thousand yearsago. There are wall paintings in the shadows at the back. The littleboys holding the ducks must look very much like Caius when he was alittle boy. When he went to the farm in the hills for a hot summer, hehad ducks to play with; here are statues to remind him, in the wintertime, of what fun that was. 

A garden like this, not generally so large, was laid out _inside_ everyimportant house in Pompeii. The family rooms surrounded it. These roomsreceived most of their light and air from this garden. Caius was lyingon a couch in a garden like this, when the shower of pebbles suddenlybegan. Ariston was painting the walls of a room that overlooked thegarden. 

LADY PLAYING A HARP. 

This is part of a beautiful wall painting in a Pompeian house, the sortof painting that Ariston was making when the volcano burst forth. Seehow much the little boy looks like his mother, and what beautiful bandsthey both have in their hair. Chairs like this one have been found inthe ruins, and the same design is on many other pieces of furniture. 

The Metropolitan Museum owns the complete wall paintings for a Pompeianroom. They are put up just as they were in Pompeii. There is even aniron window grating. A beautiful table from Pompeii stands in thecenter. The room is one of the gayest in the whole museum, with its richreds and bright yellows, greens, and blues. 

KITCHEN OF THE HOUSE OF THE VETTII. 

In this house the cook must have been in the kitchen, just ready to goto work when he had to flee. He left the pot on a tripod on a bed ofcoals, ready for use. You can see an arched opening underneath thefireplace. This was where the cook kept his fuel. The small size ofthe kitchens shows that the Pompeians were not great gluttons. 

KITCHEN UTENSILS. 

These kettles and frying pans and ladles are made of bronze, an alloy ofcopper and tin. They look very much like our kitchen furnishings. 

CENTAUR CUP. 

Some rich Pompeian had a pair of beautiful silver cups with gracefulhandles. The design was made in hammered silver, and showed centaurstalking to cupids that are sitting on their backs. A centaur was halfman, half horse. 

THE HOUSE OF THE TRAGIC POET (restored). 

From the ruins and from ancient books, men know almost all the rooms ofa Pompeian house. So they have pictured this one as it was before thedisaster, with its many beautiful wall paintings, its mosaic floors, itstiled roofs. If you can imagine these two halves fitted together, andyourself inside, you can visit one of the most attractive houses inPompeii. Do you see how the tiled roof slants downward from four sidesto a rectangular opening in the highest part of the house? Below thisopening was a shallow basin into which the rainwater fell. This basinwas in the center of the atrium, the most important room in the house. The walls of this room were painted with scenes from the Trojan war. This is the house which has the mosaic picture of a dog on the floor ofthe long entrance hall (see next page). On each side of the hall, facingthe street, are large rooms for shops, where, doubtless, the ownerconducted his business. He was not a "Tragic Poet. " Some people think hewas a goldsmith. On each side of the atrium were sleeping rooms. Can yousee that the doors are very high with a grating at the top to let inlight and air? Windows were few and small, and generally the rooms tooklight and air from the inside courts rather than from outside. Back ofthe atrium was a large reception room with bedrooms on each side. Andback of this was a large open court, or garden, with a colonnade onthree sides and a solid wall at the back. Opening on this garden was alarge dining room with beautiful wall paintings, a tiny kitchen, andsome sleeping rooms. This house had stairways and second story roomsover the shops. This seems to us a very comfortable homelike house. 

THE HOUSE OF THE TRAGIC POET (as it looks to-day). 

Here you see the shallow basin in the floor of the atrium. This basinhad two outlets. You can see the round cistern mouth near the pool. There was also an outlet to the street to carry off the overflow. At theback of the garden you can see a shrine to the household gods. At everymeal a portion was set aside in little dishes for the gods. 

MOSAIC OF WATCH DOG. 

From the vestibule of the House of the Tragic Poet. It says loudly, "Beware the dog!" Pictures and patterns made of little pieces ofpolished stone like this are called mosaic. Sometimes Americanvestibules are tiled in a simple mosaic. Wouldn't it be fun if they hadsuch exciting pictures as this? A real dog, or two or three, probablywas standing inside the door, chained, or held by slaves. 

THE HOUSE OF DIOMEDE. 

There was a wine cellar under the colonnade. Here were twenty skeletons;two, children. Near the door were found skeletons of two men. One had alarge key, doubtless the key of this door. He wore a gold ring and wascarrying a good deal of money. He was probably the master of the house. Evidently the family thought at first that the wine cellar would be asafe place, but when they found that it was not so, the master took oneslave and started out to find a way to escape. But they all perished. 

RUINS OF A BAKERY, WITH MILLSTONES. 

SECTION OF A MILL. 

If one of the mills that were found in the bakery were sawed in two, itwould look like this. You can see where the baker's man poured in thewheat, and where the flour dropped down, and the heavy timbers fastenedto the upper millstone to turn it by. 

PORTRAIT OF LUCIUS CĘCILIUS JUCUNDUS. 

This Lucius was an auctioneer who had set free one of his slaves, Felix. Felix, in gratitude, had this portrait of his master cast in bronze. It stood on a marble pillar in the atrium of the house. 

BRONZE CANDLEHOLDER. 

It is the figure of the Roman God Silenus. He was the son of Pan, andthe oldest of the satyrs, who were supposed to be half goat. Can youfind the goat's horns among his curls? He was a rollicking old satyr, very fond of wine, always getting into mischief. The grape design at thebase of the little statue, and the snake supporting the candleholder, both are symbols of the sileni. 

THE DANCING FAUN. 

In one of the largest and most elegant houses in Pompeii, on the floorof the atrium, or principal room of the house, men found in the ashesthis bronze statue of a dancing faun. Doesn't he look as if he lovedto dance, snapping his fingers to keep time? Although this great housecontained on the floor of one room the most famous of ancient mosaicpictures, representing Alexander the Great in battle, and although itcontains many other fine mosaics, it was named from this statue, theHouse of the Faun, Casa del Fauno. 

HERMES IN REPOSE. 

This bronze statue was found in Herculaneum, the city on the other slopeof Vesuvius which was buried in liquid mud. This mud has become solidrock, from sixty to one hundred feet deep so that excavation is verydifficult, and the city is still for the most part buried. 

THE ARCH OF NERO. 

The visitors to-day are walking where Caius walked so long ago on thesame paving stones. The three stones were set up to keep chariots out ofthe forum. 

[ILLUSTRATION: _A Vase Store_]

OLYMPIA

TWO WINNERS OF CROWNS

The July sun was blazing over the country of Greece. Dust from the dryplain hung in the air. But what cared the happy travelers for dust orheat? They were on their way to Olympia to see the games. Every roadteemed with a chattering crowd of men and boys afoot and on horses. Theywound down from the high mountains to the north. They came along thevalley from the east and out from among the hills to the south. Up fromthe sea led the sacred road, the busiest of all. A little caravan of menand horses was trying to hurry ahead through the throng. The masterrode in front looking anxiously before him as though he did not see thecrowd. After him rode a lad. His eyes were flashing eagerly here andthere over the strange throng. A man walked beside the horse and watchedthe boy smilingly. Behind them came a string of pack horses with slavesto guard the loads of wine and food and tents and blankets for theirmaster's camp. 

"What a strange-looking man, Glaucon!" said the boy. "He has a darkskin. "

The boy's own skin was fair, and under his hat his hair was golden. Ashe spoke he pointed to a man on the road who was also riding at the headof a little caravan. His skin was dark. Shining black hair covered hisears. His garment was gay with colored stripes. 

"He is a merchant from Egypt, " answered the man. "He will have curiousthings to sell--vases of glass, beads of amber, carved ivory, andscrolls gay with painted figures. You must see them, Charmides. "

But already the boy had forgotten the Egyptian. 

"See the chariot!" he cried. 

It was slowly rolling along the stony road. A grave, handsome man stoodin it holding the reins. Beside him stood another man with a staff inhis hand. Behind the chariot walked two bowmen. After them followed along line of pack horses led by slaves. "They are the delegates fromAthens, " explained Glaucon. "There are, doubtless, rich gifts for Zeuson the horses and perhaps some stone tablets engraved with new laws. "

But the boy was not listening. 

"Jugglers! Jugglers!" he cried. 

And there they were at the side of the road, showing their tricks andbegging for coins. One man was walking on his hands and tossing a ballabout with his feet. Another was swallowing a sword. 

"Stop, Glaucon!" cried Charmides, "I must see him. He will killhimself. "

"No, my little master, " replied the slave. "You shall see him again atOlympia. See your father. He would be vexed if we waited. "

And there was the master ahead, pushing forward rapidly, looking neitherto the right hand nor the left. The boy sighed. 

"He is hurrying to see Creon. He forgets me!" he thought. 

But immediately his eyes were caught by some new thing, and his facewas gay again. So the little company traveled up the sloping road amidinteresting sights. For here were people from all the corners of theknown world--Greeks from Asia in trailing robes, Arabs in white turbans, black men from Egypt, kings from Sicily, Persians with their curledbeards, half civilized men from the north in garments of skin. "See!"said Glaucon at last as they reached a hilltop, "the temple!"

He pointed ahead. There shone the tip of the roof and its gold ornament. Hovering above was a marble statue with spread wings. 

"And there is Victory!" whispered Charmides. "She is waiting for Creon. She will never wait for me, " and he sighed. 

The crowd broke into a shout when they saw the temple. A company ofyoung men flew by, singing a song. Charmides passed a sick man. Theslaves had set down his litter, and he had stretched out his handstoward the temple and was praying. For the sick were sometimes curedby a visit to Olympia. The boy's father had struck his heels into hishorse's sides and was galloping forward, calling to his followers tohasten. 

In a few moments they reached higher land. Then they saw the sacredplace spread out before them. There was the wall all around it. Insideit shone a few buildings and a thousand statues. Along one sidestretched a row of little marble treasure houses. At the far corner laythe stadion with its rows of stone seats. Nearer and outside the wallwas the gymnasium. Even from a distance Charmides could see men runningabout in the court. 

"There are the athletes!" he thought. "Creon is with them. "

Behind all these buildings rose a great hill, dark green with trees. Down from the hill poured a little stream. It met a wide river thatwound far through the valley. In the angle of these rivers lay Olympia. The temple and walls and gymnasium were all of stone and looked asthough they had been there forever. But in the meadow all around thesacred place was a city of winged tents. There were little shapelessones of skins lying over sticks. There were round huts woven of rushes. There were sheds of poles with green boughs laid upon them. There weretall tents of gaily striped canvas. Farther off were horses tethered. And everywhere were gaily robed men moving about. Menon, Charmides'father, looking ahead from the high place, turned to a slave. 

"Run on quickly, " he said. "Save a camping place for us there on MountKronion, under the trees. "

The man was off. Menon spoke to the other servants. "Push forward andmake camp. I will visit the gymnasium. Come, Charmides, we will go tosee Creon. "

They rode down the slope toward Olympia. As they passed among the tentsthey saw friends and exchanged kind greetings. 

"Ah, Menon!" called one. "There is good news of Creon. Every one expectsgreat things of him. "

"I have kept room for your camp next my tent, Menon, " said another. 

"Here are sights for you, Charmides, " said a kind old man. 

Charmides caught a glimpse of gleaming marble among the crowd andguessed that some sculptor was showing his statues for sale. Yonder wasa barber's tent. Gentlemen were sitting in chairs and men were cuttingtheir hair or rubbing their faces smooth with stone. In one place aman was standing on a little platform. A crowd was gathered about himlistening, while he read from a scroll in his hands. 

But the boy had only a glimpse of these things, for his father washurrying on. In a moment they crossed a bridge over a river and stoppedbefore a low, wide building. Glaucon helped Charmides off his horse. Menon spoke a few words to the porter at the gate. The man opened thedoor and led the visitors in. Charmides limped along beside his father, for he was lame. That was what had made him sigh when he had seenVictory hovering over Olympia. She would never give him the olivebranch. But now he did not think of that. His heart was beating fast. His eyes were big. For before him lay a great open court baking in thesun. More than a hundred boys were at work there, leaping, wrestling, hurling the disk, throwing spears. During the past months they had beenliving here, training for the games. The sun had browned their barebodies. Now their smooth skins were shining with sweat and oil. As theybent and twisted they looked like beautiful statues turned brown andcome alive. Among them walked men in long purple robes. They seemed tobe giving commands. 

"They are the judges, " whispered Glaucon. "They train the boys. "

All around the hot court ran a deep, shady portico. Here boys lay onthe tiled floor or on stone benches, resting from their exercise. NearCharmides stood one with his back turned. He was scraping the oil anddust from his body with a strigil. Charmides' eyes danced with joyat the beauty of the firm, round legs and the muscles moving in theshoulders. Then the athlete turned toward the visitors and Charmidescried out, "Creon!" and ran and threw his arms around him. 

Then there was gay talk; Creon asked about the home and mother andsisters in Athens, for he had been here in training for almost tenmonths. Menon and Charmides had a thousand questions about the games. 

"I know I shall win, father, " said Creon softly. "Four nights ago Hermesappeared to me in my sleep and smiled upon me. I awoke suddenly andthere was a strange, sweet perfume in the air. "

Tears sprang into his father's eyes. "Now blessed be the gods!" hecried, "and most blessed Hermes, the god of the gymnasium!"

After a little Menon and Charmides said farewell and went away throughthe chattering crowd and up under the cool trees on Mount Kronion totheir camp. The slaves had cut poles and set them up and thrown a widelinen cover over them. Under it they had put a little table holdinglumps of brown cheese, a flat loaf of bread, a basket of figs, a pileof crisp lettuce. Just outside the tent grazed a few goats. A man in asoiled tunic was squatted milking one. Menon's slave stood waiting and, as his master came up, he took the big red bowl of foaming milk andcarried it to the table. The goatherd picked up his long crook andstarted his flock on, calling, "Milk! Milk to sell!"

Menon was gay now. His worries were over. His camp was pitched in apleasant place. His son was well and sure of victory. 

"Come, little son, " he called to Charmides. "You must be as hungry as awolf. But first our thanks to the gods. "

A slave had poured a little wine into a flat cup and stood now offeringit to his master. Menon took it and held it high, looking up into theblue heavens. 

"O gracious Hermes!" he cried aloud, "fulfill thy omen! And to Zeus, thefather, and to all the immortals be thanks. "

As he prayed he turned the cup and spilled the wine upon the ground. That was the god's portion. A slave spread down a rug for his masterto lie upon and put cushions under his elbow. Glaucon did the same forCharmides, and the meal began. Menon talked gaily about their journey, the games to-morrow, Creon's training. But Charmides was silent. At lasthis father said:

"Well, little wolf, you surely are gulping! Are you so starved?"

"No, " said Charmides with full mouth. "I'm in a hurry. I want to seethings. "

His father laughed and leaped to his feet. 

"Just like me, lad. Come on!"

Charmides snatched a handful of figs and rolled out of the tentsquealing with joy. Menon came after him, laughing, and Glaucon followedto care for them. "The sun is setting, " said Menon. "It will soon bedark, and to-morrow are the games. They will keep us busy when theybegin, so you must use your eyes to-day if you want to see the fair. "

He stopped on the hillside and looked down into the sacred place. 

"It is wonderful!" he said, half to himself. "The home of glory! I loveevery stone of it. I have not been here since I myself won the singlerace. And now my son is to win it. That was when you were a baby, Charmides. "

"I know, father, " whispered the boy with shining eyes. "I have kissedyour olive wreath, where it hangs above our altar at home. "

The father put his hand lovingly on the boy's yellow head. 

"By the help of Hermes there soon will be a green one there for you tokiss, lad. The gods are very good to crown our family twice. "

"I wish there were crowns for lame boys to win, " said Charmides. "Iwould win one!"

He said that fiercely and clenched his fist. His father looked kindlyinto his eyes and spoke solemnly. 

"I think you would, my son. Perhaps there are such crowns. "

They started on thoughtfully and soon were among the crowd. There werea hundred interesting sights. They passed an outdoor oven like a littleround hill of stones and clay. The baker was just raking the fire out ofthe little door on the side. Charmides waited to see him put the loavesinto the hot cave. But before it was done a horn blew and called himaway to a little table covered with cakes. 

"Honey cakes! Almond cakes! Fig cakes!" sang the man. "Come buy!"

There they lay--stars and fish and ships and temples. Charmides pickedup one in the shape of a lyre. 

"I will take this one, " he said, and solemnly ate it. 

"Why are you so solemn, son?" laughed Menon. 

The boy did not answer. He only looked up at his father with deep eyesand said nothing. But in a moment he was racing off to see some ropedancers. 

"Glaucon, " said the master to the slave, "take care of the boy. Give hima good time. Buy him what he wants. Take him back to camp when he istired. I have business to do. "

Then he turned to talk with a friend, who had come up, and Glauconfollowed his little master. 

What a good time the boy had! The rope dancers, the sword swallowers, the Egyptian with his painted scroll, a trained bear that wrestled witha wild-looking man dressed in skins, a cooking tent where whole sheepwere roasting and turning over a fire, another where tiny fish wereboiling in a great pot of oil and jumping as if alive--he saw them all. He stood under the sculptors' awning and gazed at the marble people morebeautiful than life. And when he came upon Apollo striking his lyre, hisheart leaped into his mouth. He stood quiet for a long time gazing atthis god of song. Then he walked out of the tent with shining eyes. 

At last it grew dark, and torches began to blaze in front of the booths. 

"Shall we go home, Charmides?" said Glaucon. 

"Oh, no!" cried the boy. "I haven't seen it all. I am not tired. It isgayer now than ever with the torches. See all those shining flames. "

And he ran to a booth where a hundred little bronze lamps hung, eachwith its tongue of clear light. It was an imagemaker's booth. The tablestood full of little clay statues of the gods. Charmides took up one. Itwas a young man leaning against a tree trunk. On his arm he held a baby. 

"It is a model of the great marble Hermes in the temple of Hera, mylittle master, " said the image maker. "Great Praxiteles made that one, poor Philo made this one. "

"It is beautiful, " said Charmides and turned away, holding it tenderlyin his hand. 

Glaucon waited a moment to pay for the figure. Then he followedCharmides who had walked on. He was standing on the bridge gazing at thewater. 

"Glaucon, " he said, "I must see that statue of Hermes. "

They stood there talking about the wonderful works of Praxiteles and ofmany another artist. Glaucon pointed to a little wooden shed lying inthe meadow. 

"That, " he said, "is the workshop of Phidias. There he made the gold andivory statue of Zeus that you shall see in Zeus's temple. That workshopwill stay there many a year, I think, for people to love because sogreat a thing was done there. "

"Is it so wonderful?" asked Charmides. 

"When it was finished, " Glaucon answered solemnly, "Phidias stood beforeit and prayed to Zeus to tell him whether it pleased the god. Great Zeusheard the prayer, and in his joy at the beautiful thing he hurled ablazing thunderbolt and smote the floor before the statue as if to say, 'This image is Zeus himself. ' But I have never seen it, for a slave maynot pass the sacred wall. "

Now the full moon had risen, and the world was swimming in silver light. The statue of Victory hung over the sacred place on spread wings. Manyanother great form on its high pillar seemed standing in the deep skyabove the world. The little pool in the pebbly river had stars in thebottom. 

"This Kladeos is a savage little river in the spring, " said Glaucon. "Ittries to tear away our Olympia or drown it or cover it with sand. Yousee, men have had to fence it in with stone walls. "

But Charmides was looking at the sacred place and its soft shiningstatues in the sky. 

"Let us walk around the wall, " he said. 

So they left the river and passed the gymnasium and the gate. Along thisside the wall cast a wide shadow. Here they walked in silence. Herethere were no tents, no torches, no noisy people. Everything was quietin the evening air. The far-off sounds of the fair were a gentle hum. Ahundred pictures were floating in Charmides' mind--Phidias, Zeus, Creonwith the strigil, his own little Hermes, the strange people in the fair, the marble Apollo under the sculptor's tent. In a few moments theyturned a corner and came out into the soft moonlight. A little beyondgleamed a broad river, the Alphaeus. Charmides and the slave went overand strolled along its banks. Here they were again in the crowd andamong tents. They saw a group of people and went toward them. A mansat on a low knoll a little above the crowd. His hair hung about hisshoulders and his long robe lay in glistening folds about his feet. Alyre rested on his knees, and he was striking the strings softly. Thesweet notes floated high in the moonlit air. At last he lifted his voiceand sang:

 When the swan spreadeth out his wings to alight On the whirling pools of the foaming stream, He sendeth to thee, Apollo, a note. When the sweet-voiced minstrel lifteth his lyre And stretcheth his hand on the singing string, He sendeth to thee, Apollo, a prayer. Even so do I now, a worshiping bard, With my heart lifted up to begin my lay, Cry aloud to Apollo, the lord of song. 

Then he sang of that lordliest of all minstrels, Orpheus--how the treesswung circling about to his music; how the savage beasts lay down at hisfeet to listen; how the rocks rose up at his bidding and followed him, dancing, to build a town without hands; how he went to the dismal landof the dead to seek his wife and with his clear lyre and sweet voicedrew tears from the iron heart of the king of hell and won back hisloved Eurydice and lost her again the same hour. 

The boy, sitting there in the moonlight, went floating away on the songuntil he felt himself straying through that fair garden of the dead withsinging lyre or riding with Artemis through the sky in her moon chariot. 

When the song was ended, Glaucon said, "Come, little master, you havefallen asleep. Let us go home. "

And Charmides rose and went, still clutching his image of Hermes in hishand and still holding the song fast in his heart. 

In the morning the whole great camp was awake and moving long beforedaylight. Every man and boy was in his fairest clothes. On every headwas a fresh fillet. Every hand bore some beautiful gift for the gods--avase, a plate of gold, an embroidered robe, a basket of silver. All werepouring to the open gate in the sacred wall. Here a procession formed. Young men led cattle with gilded horns and swinging garlands, or sheepwith clean, combed wool. Stately priests in long chitons paced to themusic of flutes. The judges glowed in their purple robes. Then walkedthe athletes, their eyes burning with excitement. And last came all thevisitors with gift-laden hands. The slaves and foreigners crowded atthe gate to see the procession pass, for on this first holy day onlyfreedmen and Greeks of pure blood might visit the sacred shrines. WhenCharmides passed through, his heart leaped. Here was no empty field witha few altars. He had never seen a greater crowd in the busy market placeat home in Athens. But here the people were even more beautiful thanthe Athenians. Their limbs were round and perfect. They stood alwaysgracefully. Their garments hung in delicate folds, for they were peoplemade by great artists--people of marble and of bronze. All the gods ofOlympos were there, and athletes of years gone by, wrestling, running, hurling the disc. There were bronze chariots with horses of bronze todraw them and men of bronze to hold the reins. There were heroes of Troystill fighting. And here and there were little altars of marble orstone or earth or ashes with an ancient, holy statue. At every one theprocession halted. The priests poured a libation and chanted a prayer. The people sang a hymn. Many left gifts piled about the altar. BeforeHermes Charmides left his little clay image of the god. And whilethe priests prayed aloud, the boy sent up a whispered prayer for hisbrother. 

Once the procession came before a low, narrow temple. It was ofsun-dried bricks coated with plaster. Its columns were all differentfrom one another. Some were slender, others thick; some fluted, othersplain; and all were brightly painted. Charmides smiled up at his father. 

"It is not so beautiful as the Parthenon, " he said. 

"No, " his father answered, "but it is very old and very holy. Everygeneration of man has put a new column here. That is why they are notalike. This is the ancient temple of Hera. "

Then they entered the door. Down the long aisle they walked betweensmall open rooms on either side. Here stood statues gazing out--some ofmarble, some of gold and ivory. The priests had moved to the front andstood praying before the ancient statues of Zeus and Hera. But suddenlyCharmides stopped and would go no farther. For here, in a little roomall alone, stood his Hermes with the baby Dionysus. The boy cried outsoftly with joy and crept toward the lovely thing. He gently touched thegolden sandal. He gazed into the kind blue eyes and smiled. The marblewas delicately tinted and glowed like warm skin. A frail wreath ofgolden leaves lay on the curling hair. Charmides looked up at the tinybaby and laughed at its coaxing arms. 

"Are you smiling at him?" he whispered to Hermes. "Or are you dreamingof Olympos? Are you carrying him to the nymphs on Mount Nysa?" And thenmore softly still he said, "Do not forget Creon, blessed god. "

When his father came back he found him still gazing into the quiet faceand smiling tenderly with love of the beautiful thing. As Menon led himaway, he waved a loving farewell to the god. 

The most wonderful time was after the sacrifice to Zeus before the greattemple with its deep porches and its marble watchers in the gable. The altar was a huge pile of ashes. For hundreds of years Greeks hadsacrificed here. The holy ashes had piled up and piled up until theystood as a hill more than twenty feet high. The people waited around thefoot of it, watching. The priests walked up its side. Men led up thesleek cattle to be slain for the feast of the gods. And on the very topa fire leaped toward heaven. Far up in the sky Charmides could halfsee the beautiful gods leaning down and smiling upon their worshipingpeople. 

Then he turned and walked with the crowd under the temple porch and intothe great, dim room. He trembled and grasped his father's hand in awe. For there in the soft light towered great Zeus. In embroidered robes ofdull gold he sat high on his golden throne. His hands held his scepterand his messenger eagle. His great yellow curls almost touched theceiling. He bent his divine face down, and his deep eyes glowed upon hispeople. Sweet smoke was curling upward, and the room rang with a hymn. 

As Charmides gazed into the solemn face, a strange light quivered aboutit, and the boy's heart shook with awe. The words of Homer sprang to hislips:

"Zeus bowed his head. The divine hair streamed back from the kindlybrows, and great Olympos quaked. "

After the sacrifices were over there was time to wander again among thestatues and to sit on the benches under the cool porches and watch themoving crowd and the glittering sun on the gold ornaments of the templepeaks. Then there was time to see again the strange sights of the fairin the plain. The next morning was noisier and gayer than anythingCharmides had ever known. While it was still twilight his father hurriedhim down the hill and through the gates, on through the sacred enclosureto another gate. And all about them was a hurrying, noisy crowd. Theystumbled up some steps and began to wait. As the light grew, Charmidessaw all about him men and boys, sitting or standing, and all gailytalking. Below the crowd he saw a long, narrow stretch of ground. Heclapped his hands. That was the ground Creon's feet would run upon! Upand down both sides of the track went long tiers of stone seats. Theywere packed with people who were there to see Creon win. The seatscurved around one narrow end of the course. But across the other endstood a wall with a gate. Menon pointed to a large white board hangingon the wall and said, "See! The list of athletes. "

Here were written names, and among them, "Creon, son of the Olympicwinner Menon. " Charmides' eyes glowed with pride. 

Every eye was watching the gate. Soon the purple-clad judges entered. Some of them walked the whole length of the stadion and took their seatsopposite the goal posts. Two or three waited at the starting line. Therewas a blast of a trumpet. Then a herald cried something about gamesfor boys and about only Greeks of pure blood and about the blessing ofHermes of the race course. 

Immediately there entered a crowd of boys, while the spectators sentup a rousing cheer. The lads gathered to cast lots for places. At lasteight of them stepped out and stood at the starting line. Creon was notamong them. A post with a little fluttering flag was between every two. The boys threw off their clothes and stood ready. One of the judges saidto them:

"The eyes of the world are upon you. Your cities love an Olympic winner. From Olympos the gods look down upon you. For the glory of your cities, for the joy of your fathers, for your own good name, I exhort you to doyour best. "

Then he gave the signal and the runners shot forward. Down the longcourse they went with twinkling legs. The spectators cheered, calledtheir names, waved their chlamyses and himations. Their friends criedto the gods to help. Down they ran, two far ahead, others stringing outbehind. Every runner's eyes were on the marble goal post with its littlestatue of Victory. In a moment it was over, and Leotichides had firstlaid hand upon the post and was winner of the first heat. 

Immediately eight other boys took their places at the starting line. Charmides snatched his father's hand and held it tight, for Creon wasone of them. Another signal and they were off, with Creon leading bya pace or two. So it was all the way, and he gave a glad shout as hetouched the goal post. 

Charmides heard men all about him say:

"A beautiful run!"

"How easily he steps!"

"We shall see him do something in the last heat. "

"Who is he?"

And when the herald announced the name of the winner, the benches buzzedwith, "Creon, Creon, son of Menon the Athenian. "

Four more groups were called and ran. Then the six winners stepped upto the line. This time the goal was the altar at the farther end of thestadion. A wave of excitement ran around the seats. Everybody leanedforward. The signal! Leotichides sprang a long pace ahead. Next cameCreon, loping evenly. One boy stumbled and fell behind. The other threewere running almost side by side. Menon was muttering between his teeth:

"Hermes, be his aid! Great Zeus look upon him! Herakles give him wind!"

Now they were near the goal, and Leotichides was still leading by astride. Then Creon threw back his head and stretched out his legs andwith ten great leaps he had touched the altar a good pace ahead. He hadwon the race. 

The crowd went wild with shouting. Menon leaped over men's heads andwent running down the course calling for his son. But the guards caughthim and forced him back upon the seats. Charmides sat down and wept forjoy. And nobody saw him, for everybody was cheering and watching thevictor. 

One of the judges stepped out and gave a torch to Creon. The boy touchedthe flame to the pile on the altar. As the fire sprang up, he stretchedhis hands to the sky and cried, "O blessed Hermes, Creon will not forget thy help. "

As he turned away the judge gave him a palm in sign of victory. The boywalked back down the course with the palm waving over his shoulder. Hisbody was glistening, his cheeks were flushed, his eyes were burningwith joy. He was looking up at the crowd, hoping to see his father andbrother. And at every step men reached out a hand to him or calledto him, until at last Menon's own loving arms pulled him up upon thebenches. Then there was such a noise that no one heard any one else, buteverybody knew that everybody was happy. Men pushed their heads overother men's shoulders, and boys peeped between their fathers' legs tosee the Olympic winner. And in that circle of faces Menon stood withhis arms about Creon, laughing and crying. And Charmides clung to hisbrother's hand. But at last Creon whispered to his father:

"I must go and make ready. I am entered for the pentathlon, also. "

Menon cried out in wonder. 

"I kept that news for a surprise, " laughed Creon. "Good-by, little one, "he said to Charmides, and pushed through the crowd. 

Menon sat down trembling. If his boy should win in the pentathlon also!That would be too great glory. It could not happen. He began to mutter ahundred prayers. Another race was called--the double race, twice aroundthe course. But Menon did not stand to see it. He could think of nothingbut his glorious son. After the race was another great shout. Some otherboy was carrying a palm. Some other father was proud. Then followedwrestling, bout after bout, and cheering from the crowd. But Menon caredlittle for it all. 

It was now near noon. The sun shone down scorchingly. A wind whirleddust up from the race course into people's faces. 

"My throat needs wetting, " cried a man. 

He pulled off a little vase of wine that hung from his girdle and passedit to Menon, saying:

"I should be proud if the father of the victor would drink from mybottle. "

And Menon took it, smiling proudly. Then he himself opened a littlecloth bag and drew out figs and nuts. 

"Here is something to munch, lad, " he said to Charmides. 

Other people, also, were eating and drinking. They walked about to visittheir friends or sat down to rest. Menon's neighbor sank upon his seatwith a sigh. 

"This is the first time I have sat down since sunrise, " he laughed. 

Then the pentathlon was announced. Everyone leaped to his feet again. Agroup of boys stood ready behind a line. One of the judges was softeningthe ground with a pick. An umpire made a speech to the lads. Then, at aword, a boy took up the lead jumping weights. He swung his hands backand forth, swaying his graceful body with them. Then a backward jerk! Hethrew his weights behind him and leaped. The judges quickly measuredand called the distance. Then another boy leaped, and another, andanother--twenty or more. Last Creon took the weights and toed the line. 

"Creon! Creon!" shouted the crowd: "The victor! Creon again!"

He swung and swayed and then sailed through the air. 

"By Herakles!" shouted a man near Charmides. "He alights like asea-gull. "

There went up a great roar from the benches even before the judgescalled the distance. For any one could see that he had passed thefarthest mark. The first of the five games was over and Creon had wonit. 

Now the judges brought a discus. A boy took it and stepped behind theline. He fitted the lead plate into the crook of his hand. He swung itback and forth, bending his knees and turning his body. Then it flewinto the air and down the course. Where it stopped rolling an umpiremarked and called the distance. 

"I like this game best of all, " said a man behind Charmides. "The wholebody is in it. Every movement is graceful. See the curve of the back, the beautiful bend of the legs, the muscles working over the chest! Thebody moves to and fro as if to music. "

One after another the boys took their turn. But when Creon threw, Charmides cried out in sorrow, and Menon groaned. His disc fell short ofthe mark. He was third. 

"It was gracefully done, " Charmides heard some one say, "but his armsare not so good as his legs. See the arms and chest of that Timon. Noone can throw against him. "

After that a judge set up a shield in the middle of the course. Everyboy snatched a spear from a pile on the ground and threw at the centralboss of the shield. Again Creon was beaten. Phormio of Corinth, son of afamous warrior, won. 

Then they paired off for wrestling. Creon and Eudorus of Aegina weretogether. Each boy poured oil into his hand from a little vase andrubbed the body of his antagonist to limber his muscles. Then he tookfine sand from a box and dusted it over his skin for the oiled bodymight slip out of his arms in the wrestling match. Then, at a signal, the pairs of wrestlers faced each other. 

Creon held his hands out ready, bent his knees, thrust forward his head, and stood waiting. Eudorus leaped to and fro around him trying to get ahold. At last he rushed at him. Creon caught him around the waist andhurled him to the ground. Charmides laughed and shouted and clappedhis hands. That was one throw. There must be three. Eudorus was upimmediately and was circling around and around again. Suddenly Creonleaped low and caught him by the leg and threw him. He had won two boutsout of three and stood victor without a throw. 

Soon all the pairs had finished. The eight victors stood forth and castlots for new partners. Again they wrestled. This time, also, Creon won. Then these four winners paired off and wrestled, and at the end Creonand Timon were left to try it together. 

In the first bout the Spartan boy lifted Creon off the ground and threwhim, back down. Then the men on the benches began shouting advice. 

"Look out for his arms!"

"Don't let him grapple you!"

"Feint, feint!"

Creon leaped to his feet. He began circling around Timon as Eudorus hadcircled around him. He dodged out from under Timon's arms. He wriggledfrom between his hands. The benches rang with cheers and laughs. 

"He is an eel, " cried one man. 

Suddenly Creon ducked under Timon's arms, caught him by his legs andtripped him. The two boys were even. 

In the next bout Timon ran at Creon like a wild bull. He caught himaround the waist in his strong arms to whirl him to the ground. But witha crook of his leg Creon tripped him and wriggled out of his arms beforehe fell. 

Menon caught up Charmides and threw him to his shoulder laughing andstamping his feet. 

"Do you see, lad?" he cried. "He has won two games. Only the race isleft, and we know how he can run. "

And how he did run! He threw back his head and leaped out like a deer, skimming over the ground in long strides and leaving his dust to theothers. He had the three games out of five and was winner of thepentathlon. 

Then there was no holding the crowd. They poured down off the seats andran to Creon. Some lifted him upon their shoulders and carried him outof the stadion, for this was the end of the games for that day. Andthose who could not come near Creon and his waving palms crowded aroundMenon. So they went, shouting, out of the gate and among the statues andon to the river. There they put Creon down, and his father and Charmidesled him away to camp. 

That was the happiest night of Charmides' life. He heard his wonderfulbrother talk for hours of the life in the gymnasium. He heard new talesof Creon's favorite god, Hermes. He heard of the women's games that wereheld once a year at Olympia in honor of Hera. He heard a hundred newnames of boys and cities, for there had been, athletes from every cornerof Greece in training here. He held the victor's palms in his own hands. He slept beside this double winner of Olympic crowns. He dreamed thatApollo and Hermes came hand in hand and gazed down at him and Creon asthey lay sleeping and dropped a great garland over them both. It wastwined of Olympic olive leaves and Apollo's own laurel. 

On the next day there were games for the men, like those the boys hadplayed. On the day after that there were chariot races in a wide placeoutside the walls. Every night there was still the gay noise of thefair. But instead of going to see it, Charmides stretched himself underthe trees on Mount Kronion and gazed up at the moon and dreamed. 

Then came the last day, with its great procession again and itssacrifices at every altar. The proud victors walked with their palmleaves in their hands. In the temple of Zeus, under the eyes of theglowing god, the priests put the precious olive crowns upon the winners'heads. They were made from sacred olive leaves. They were cut with agolden sickle from the very tree that godlike Herakles had brought outof the far north. That wreath it was which should be more dear than achest of gold to Creon's family and Creon's city. That was the crownwhich poets should sing about. When the priest set the crown uponCreon's head, Charmides thought he felt a god's hands upon his own brow. Menon leaned upon a friend's shoulder and burst into tears. 

"I could die happy now, " he said. "I have done enough for Athens ingiving her such a glorious son. "

As the three walked back to camp, Menon said:

"Who shall write your chorus of triumph, Creon? Already my messengershave reached Athens, and the dancers are chosen who shall lead you home. But the song is not yet made. It must be a glorious one!"

Then Charmides blushingly whispered, "May I sing you something, father? Apollo helped me to make it. "

His father smiled down in surprise. "So that is why you have been lyingso quiet under the trees these moonlit nights!" he said. 

Charmides ran ahead and was sitting thrumming a lyre when his fatherand Creon came up. He struck a long, ringing chord and raised his clearvoice in a dancing song:

 When Creon, son of Menon, bore off the Olympic olive, Mount Kronion shook with shouting of Hellas' hosts assembled. They praised his manly beauty, his grace and strength of body. They praised his eyes' alertness, the smoothness of his muscles. They blessed his happy father and wished themselves his brothers. Sweet rang the glorious praises in ears of Creon's lovers. But I, when upward gazing, beheld a sight more wondrous. The gates of high Olympos were open wide and clanging, Deserted ev'ry palace, the golden city empty. And all the gods were gathered above Olympia's race-course, They smiled upon my Creon and gifts upon him showered. From golden Aphrodite dropped half a hundred graces. Athene made him skillful. Boon Hermes gave him litheness. Fierce Ares added courage, Queen Hera happy marriage. Diana's blessed fingers into his soul shed quiet. Lord Bacchus gave him friendship and graces of the banquet, Poseidon luck in travel, and Zeus decreed him victor. Apollo, smiling, watched him and saw his thousand blessings. "Enough, " he said, "for Creon. I'll bless the empty-handed. " He turned to where I trembled, and stepping downward crowned me. "To thee my gift, " he whispered, "to sing thy brother's glory. "

"Well done, little poet!" cried Menon. 

"A happy man am I. One son is beloved by Hermes, the other by Apollo. Bring wax tablets, Glaucon, and write down the song. I will prepare amessenger to hurry with it to Athens. "

So it happened that a lame boy won a crown. And when Creon steppedashore at Pirseus, and all Athens stood shouting his name, a chorus ofboys came dancing toward him singing his brother's song. Creon was ledhome wearing Zeus' wreath upon his head, and Charmides with Apollo'scrown in his heart. [Illustration: _A Coin of Alexander the Great_. Itshows Zeus sitting on his throne. ]

HOW A CITY WAS LOST

Such was Olympia long ago. Every four years such games took place. Thenthe plain was crowded and busy and gay. Year after year new statues wereset up, new gifts were brought, new buildings were made. Olympia wasone of the richest places in the world. Its fame flew to every land. Atevery festival new people came to see its beauties. It was the meetingplace of the world. 

But meantime the bad fortune of Greece began. Her cities quarreled andfought among themselves. A king came down from the north and conqueredher. After that the Romans sailed over from Italy and conquered heragain. Often Roman emperors carried off some of her statues to make Romebeautiful. Shipload after shipload they took. The new country was filledwith Greek statues. The old one was left almost empty. Later, afterChrist was born, and the Romans and the Greeks had become Christian, theemperor said, "It is not fitting for Christians to hold a festival in honor of aheathen god. " And he stopped the games. He took away the gold and silvergifts from the treasure houses. He carried away the gold and ivorystatues. Where Phidias' wonderful Zeus went nobody knows. Perhaps thegold was melted to make money. Olympia sat lonely and deserted by herriver banks. Summer winds whirled dust under her porches. Rabbits madeburrows in Zeus' altar. Doors rusted off their hinges. Foxes made theirdens in Hera's temple. Men came now and then to melt up a bronze statuefor swords or to haul away the stones of her temples for building. The Alpheios kept eating away its banks and cutting under statues andmonuments. Many a beautiful thing crumbled and fell into the river andwas rolled on down to the sea. Men sometimes found a bronze helmet or amarble head in the bed of the stream. 

After a long time people came and lived among the ruins. On an oldtemple floor they built a little church. Men lived in the temple ofZeus, and women spun and gossiped where the golden statue had sat. Inthe temple of Hera people set up a wine press. Did they know that thelittle marble baby in the statue near them was the god of the vineyardand had taught men to make wine? Out of broken statues and columns andtemple stones they built a wall around the little town to keep out theirenemies. Sometimes when they found a bronze warrior or a marble god theymust have made strange stories about it, for they had half forgottenthose wonderful old Greeks. But the marble statues they put into a kilnto make lime to plaster their houses. The bronze ones they melted up fortools. Sometimes they found a piece of gold. They thought themselveslucky then and melted it over into money. 

But an earthquake shook down the buildings and toppled over the statues. The columns and walls of the grand old temple of Zeus fell in a heap. The marble statues in its pediments dropped to the ground and broke. Victory fell from her high pillar and shattered into a hundred pieces. The roof of Hera's temple fell in, and Hermes stood uncovered to thesky. Old Kronion rocked and sent a landslide down over the treasurehouses. Kladeos rushed out of his course and poured sand over the sacredplace. 

That earthquake frightened the people away, and they left Olympia aloneagain. Hermes was still there, but he looked out upon ruins. Victory layin a heap of fragments. Apollo was there, but broken and buried in earthwith the other people of the pediments. Zeus and all the hundreds ofheroes and athletes were gone. So it was for a while. Then a new race ofpeople came and built another little town upon the earth-covered ruins. They little guessed what lay below their poor houses. But for somereason this town, also, died and left the ruins alone. Then dusty windsand flooding rivers began to cover up what was left. Kladeos piled upsand fifteen feet deep. Alpheios swung out of its banks and washed awaythe race-course for chariots. Under the rains and floods the sun-driedbricks of Hera's walls melted again into clay and covered the floor. Again the earth quaked, and Hermes fell forward on his face, and littlewas left of the beautiful old Olympia. Grass and flowers crept in fromthe sides. Seeds blew in and shrubs and trees took the place of columns. Soon the flowers and the animals had Olympia to themselves. A few graystones thrust up through the soil. So it was for hundreds of years. Greece was conquered by the men of Venice and then by the Turks. ButOlympia, in its far corner, was forgotten and untouched except when aTurkish officer or farmer went there to dig a few stones out of theground. And they knew nothing of the ancient gods and the ancientfestival and the old story of the place, for they were foreigners andnew people. 

But about a hundred years ago Englishmen and Germans and Frenchmen beganto visit Greece. They went to see, not her new Turkish houses or herVenetian castles or the strange dress of her new people, but her oldruins and the signs of her old glory. These men had read of Olympia inancient Greek books and they knew what statues and buildings had oncestood there. They wrote back to their friends things like this:

"I saw a piece of a huge column lying on top of the ground. It was sevenfeet across. It must have belonged to the temple of Zeus. "

"To-day I saw a long, low place in the ground where I think must havebeen the stadion in ancient days. "

At last, about thirty years ago, Ernst Curtius and several other Germanswent there. They were men who had studied Greek history and Greek artand they planned to excavate Olympia. 

"We will uncover the sacred enclosure again. Men shall see again theancient temples and altars, the stadion, the statues. "

Germany had given them money for the work, and at last Greece allowedthem to begin. In October they started their digging. Workmen up-rootedshrubs and dug away dirt. Excavators watched every spadeful. They werealways measuring, making maps, taking notes. They found a few vases, terra cotta figures, pieces of bronze statues, swords and armor. Theycleared off temple floors and were able to make out the plans of the oldbuildings. They found the empty pedestals of many statues. Yet they weredisappointed. Olympia had been a beautiful place, a rich place. Theywere finding only the hints of these things. The beauty was gone. Of thethree thousand statues that had been there should they not find one?

Then they uncovered the fallen statues of the pediments of Zeus' temple. Thirty or more there were--Apollo, Zeus, heroes, women, centaurs, horses. Arms were gone, heads were broken, legs were lost. Theexcavators fitted together all the pieces and set the mended statues upside by side as they had been in the gable. They found, too, the carvedmarble slabs that showed the labors of Herakles. But even these were notthe lovely things that people had hoped to see from Olympia. They wererather stiff and ungraceful. They had not been made by the greatestartists. In the temple of Hera one day men were digging in clay. Overall the rest of Olympia was only sand. The excavators wondered for along time why this one spot should have clay. Where could it have comefrom? They read their old books over and over. They thought and studied. At last they said:

"The walls of the temple must have been made of sun-dried brick. In theold days they must have been covered with plaster. This and the roofkept them dry. But the plaster cracked off, and the roof fell in, andthe rain and the floods turned the bricks back to clay again. "

Then one May morning, when the men were digging in the clay, a workmanlifted off his spadeful of dirt, and white marble gleamed out. Afterthat there was careful work, with all the excavators standing about towatch. What would it be? They thought over all the statues that theancient books said had stood in Hera's temple. Then were slowlyuncovered, a smooth back, a carved shoulder, a curly head. A whitestatue of a young man lay face down in the gray clay. The legs weregone. The right arm was missing. From his left hung carved drapery. Onhis left shoulder lay a tiny marble hand. 

"It is the Hermes of Praxiteles, " the excavators whispered amongthemselves. 

In his day Praxiteles had been almost as famous as Phidias. The oldGreek world had rung with his praises. Modern men had dreamed of whathis statues must have been and had longed to see them. How did he shapethe head? How did his bodies curve? What expression was on his faces?All these things they had wished to know. But not one of his statueshad ever been found. Now here lay one before the very eyes of theseexcavators. They put out their hands and lovingly touched the polishedmarble skin. But what would they find when they lifted it?--Perhaps thenose would be gone, the face flattened by the fall, the ears broken, thebeautiful marble chipped. They almost feared to lift it. But at lastthey did so. 

When they saw the face, they were struck dumb by its beauty, and I thinktears sprang into the eyes of some of them. No such perfect piece ofmarble had ever been found before. There was not a scratch. The skinstill glowed with the polishing that Praxiteles' own hands had given it. There was even a hint of color on the lips. The soft clay bed had savedthe falling statue. Here was a statue that the whole world would love. It would make the name of Olympia famous again. The excavators wereproud and happy. That old ruined temple seemed indeed a sacred place tothem as they gazed upon perhaps the most beautiful statue in the world. 

"Surely we shall find nothing else so perfect, " they said. 

Yet they went on with the work. Before long Hermes' right foot was foundimbedded in the clay. Its sandal still shone with the gilding put on twothousand years before. Workmen were tearing down one of the houses ofthe little town that had been built on the ancient ruins. Every stone init had some old story. Pieces of fluted columns, carved capitals, brokenpedestals, blocks from the temple of Zeus--all were cemented together tomake these walls. The workmen pulled and chipped and lifted out pieceafter piece. The excavators studied each scrap to see whether it wasvaluable. And at last they found a baby's body. They carefully broke offthe mortar. It was of creamy marble, beautifully carved. They carried itto Hermes. It fitted upon the drapery over his arm. On a rubbish heapoutside the temple they had found a little marble head. They put it uponthis baby's shoulders. It was badly broken, but they could see that itbelonged there. So after two thousand years Hermes again smiled into theeyes of the baby Dionysus. 

Other things were found. The shattered Victory was uncovered. Carefullythe excavators fitted the pieces together. But the wide wings couldnever be made again, and the head was ruined. Even so, the statue is abeautiful thing, with its thin drapery flying in the wind. 

After five years the work was finished. Now again hundreds of visitorsjourney to Olympia every year. They see no gleaming roofs andhigh-lifted statues and joyful games. They walk among sad ruins. Butthey can tread the gymnasium floor where Creon and many another victorwrestled. They can enter the gate of the grass-grown stadion. They cansee the fallen columns of the temple of Zeus. In the museum they can seethe statues of its pediments and, at the end of the long hall, theysee Victory stepping toward them. They can wander on the banks of theKladeos and the Alpheios. They can climb Mount Kronion and see the wholelittle plain and imagine it gay with tents and moving people. 

All these things are interesting to those who like the old Greek life. But most people make the long journey only to see Hermes. In the museum, in a little room all alone, he stands, always calm and lovable, alwaysdreaming of something beautiful, always half smiling at the coaxingbaby. 

PICTURES OF OLYMPIA

ENTRANCE TO STADION. 

This was not the gate where Charmides entered. This entrance wasreserved for the judges, the competitors, and the heralds. Inside therewere seats for forty-five thousand people. On one side the hill made anatural slope for seats. But on the other sides a ridge of earth had tobe built up. The track was about two hundred yards long. Only the twoends have been excavated. The rest still lies deep under the sand. 

GYMNASIUM. 

Here Creon and the other boys spent a month in training before thegames. The gymnasium had a covered portico as long as the track in thestadion, where the boys could run in bad weather. A Greek boy of to-dayis playing on his shepherd's pipes in the foreground, and they are thesame kind of pipes on which the old Greeks played. 

BOYS IN GYMNASIUM. 

From a vase painting. They are wrestling, jumping with weights, throwingthe spear, throwing the discus, while their teachers watch them. One manis saying, "A beautiful boy, truly. "

THE TEMPLE OF ZEUS. 

When we see a picture of fallen broken columns lying about a fieldin disorder, we try to learn how the original building looked and toimagine it in all its beauty. This, men believe, is the way the Templeof Zeus looked. The figures in the pediment were all of Parian marble. In the center stands Zeus himself. A chariot race is about to be run, and the contestants stand on either side of Zeus. Zeus gave the victoryto Pelops, and Pelops became husband of Hippodameia, and king of Pisa, and founded the Olympic Games. These games were held every fourth yearfor more than a thousand years. 

 Note: This and the following plates of the Labors of Herakles and the statue of Victory, were photographed from Curtius and Adler's "Olympia: Die Ergebnisse der von dem Deutschen Reich Veranstalteten Ausgrabung, " etc. This is one of the most beautiful books ever made for a buried city. 

Boys and girls who can reach the Metropolitan Museum Library should notmiss it. It is in many volumes, each almost as large as the top of thetable, and you do not need to read German to appreciate the plates. 

THE LABORS OF HERAKLES. 

Under the porches of the Temple of Zeus were twelve pictures in marble, six at each end, showing the Labors of Herakles. Herakles was highlyhonored at Olympia and, according to one tale, he, instead of Pelops, was the founder of the Olympic Games. 

[Illustration: Herakles and the Nemean lion. --_Metropolitan Museum_]

[Illustration: Herakles and the hydra. --_Metropolitan Museum_]

THE STATUE OF VICTORY. 

In the sand, not far from the Temple of Zeus, the explorers found thefragments of this statue. It shows the goddess flying down from heavento bring victory to the men of Messene and Naupaktos. So the victorsmust have erected this statue at Olympia in gratitude. 

Something like the picture used as the frontispiece, men believe thestatue looked originally. It stood upon a base thirty feet high so thatthe goddess really looked as if she were descending from heaven. 

THE TEMPLE OF HERA. 

This shows the ruins of the temple where Charmides saw the statue ofHermes, perhaps the most beautiful statue in the world. 

HEAD OF AN ATHLETE. 

The Greek artist who made this statue believed that a beautiful body isglorious, as well as a beautiful mind, and a fine spirit. Do youthink his statue shows all these things? The original is now at theMetropolitan Museum. 

A GREEK HORSEMAN. 

The artist had great skill who could chisel out of marble such a strong, bold rider, and such a spirited horse. 

 This picture and the one before it are not pictures of things found at Olympia. They are two of the most beautiful statues of Greek athletes, and we give them to remind you of the sort of people who came to the games at Olympia. 

MYCENAE

HOW A LOST CITY WAS FOUND

Thirty years ago a little group of people stood on a hill in Greece. Thehilltop was covered with soft soil. The summer sun had dried the grassand flowers, but little bushes grew thick over the ground. In this waythe hill was like an ordinary hill, but all around the edge of it ranthe broken ring of a great wall. In some places it stood thirty feetabove the earth. Here and there it was twenty feet thick. It was builtof huge stones. At one place a tower stood up. In another two stonelions stood on guard. It was these ruined walls that interested thepeople on the hill. One of the men was a Greek. A red fez was on hishead. He wore an embroidered jacket and loose white sleeves. A stiffkilted skirt hung to his knees. He was pointing about at the wall andtalking in Greek to a lady and gentleman. They were visitors, come tosee these ruins of Mycenae. 

"Once, long, long ago, " he was saying, "a great city was inside thesewalls. Giants built the walls. See the huge stones. Only giants couldlift them. It was a city of giants. See their great ovens. "

He pointed down the hill at a doorway in the earth. "You cannot see wellfrom here. I will take you down. We can look in. A great dome, built ofstone, is buried in the earth. A passage leads into it, but it is filledwith dirt. We can look down through the broken top. The room inside isbigger than my whole house. There giants used to bake their bread. Oncea wicked Turk came here. He was afraid of nothing. He said, 'The giants'treasure lies in this oven. I will have it. ' So he sent men down. Butthey found only broken pieces of carved marble--no gold. "

While the guide talked, the gentleman was tramping about the walls. Hepeered into all the dark corners. He thrust a stick into every hole. Herubbed the stones with his hands. At last he turned to his guide. 

"You are right, " he said. "There was once a great city inside thesewalls. Houses were crowded together on this hill where we stand. Men andwomen walked the streets of a city that is buried under our feet, butthey were not giants. They were beautiful women and handsome men. 

"It was a famous old city, this Mycenae. Poets sang songs about her. Ihave read those old songs. They tell of Agamemnon, its king, and hiswar against Troy. They call him the king of men. They tell of hisgold-decked palace and his rich treasures and the thick walls of hiscity. 

"But Agamemnon died, and weak kings sat in his palace. The warriors ofMycenae grew few, and after hundreds of years, when the city was old andweak, her enemies conquered her. They broke her walls, they threw downher houses, they drove out her people. Mycenae became a mass of emptyruins. For two thousand years the dry winds of summer blew dust over herpalace floors. The rains of winter and spring washed down mud from heracropolis into her streets and houses. Winged seeds flew into the cracksof her walls and into the corners of her ruined buildings. There theysprouted and grew, and at last flowers and grass covered the ruins. Now only these broken walls remain. You feed your sheep in the city ofAgamemnon. Down there on the hillside farmers have planted grain aboveancient palaces. But I will uncover this wonderful city. You shall see!You shall see how your ancestors lived. 

"Oh! for years I have longed to see this place. When I was a little boyin Germany my father told me the old stories of Troy, and he told me ofhow great cities were buried. My heart burned to see them. Then, onenight, I heard a man recite some of the lines of Homer. I loved thebeautiful Greek words. I made him say them over and over. I wept becauseI was not a Greek. I said to myself, 'I will see Greece! I will studyGreek. I will work hard. I will make a bankful of money. Then I willgo to Greece. I will uncover Troy-city and see Priam's palace. Iwill uncover Mycenae and see Agamemnon's grave. ' I have come. I haveuncovered Troy. Now I am here. I will come again and bring workmen withme. You shall see wonders. " He walked excitedly around and around theruins. He told stories of the old city. He asked his wife to recitethe old tales of Homer. She half sang the beautiful Greek words. Herhusband's eyes grew wet as he listened. 

This man's name was Dr. Henry Schliemann. He kept his word. He wentaway but he came again in a few years. He hired men and horse-carts. Herented houses in the little village. Myceae was a busy place again afterthree thousand years. More than a hundred men were digging on the topof this hill. They wore the fezes and kilts of the modern Greek. Littletwo-wheeled horse-carts creaked about, loading and dumping. 

Some of the men were working about the wall near the stone lions. 

"This is the great gate of the city, " said Dr. Schliemann. "Here theking and his warriors used to march through, thousands of years ago. Butit is filled up with dirt. We must clear it out. We must get down to thevery stones they trod. "

But it was slow work. The men found the earth full of great stoneblocks. They had to dig around them carefully, so that Dr. Schliemannmight see what they were. 

"How did so many great stones come here?" they said among themselves. 

Then Dr. Schliemann told them. He pointed to the wall above the gate. 

"Once, long, long ago, " he said, "the warriors of Mycenae stood upthere. Down here stood an army--the men of Argos, their enemies. The menof Argos battered at the gate. They shot arrows at the men of Mycenae, and the men of Mycenae shot at the Argives, and they threw down greatstones upon them. See, here is one of those broken stones, and here, andhere. After a long time the people of Mycenae had no food left in theircity. Their warriors fainted from hunger. Then the Argives beat down thegate. They rushed into the city and drove out the people. They did notwant men ever again to live in Mycenae, so they took crowbars and triedto tear down the wall. A few stones they knocked off. See, here, andhere, and here they are, where they fell off the wall. But these greatstones are very heavy. This one must weigh a hundred twenty tons, --morethan all the people of your village. So the Argives gave up the attempt, and there stand the walls yet. Then the rain washed down the dirt fromthe hill and covered these great stones, and now we are digging them outagain. "

The men worked at the gateway for many weeks. At last all the dirt andthe blocks had been cleared away. The tall gateway stood open. A holewas in the stone door-casing at top and bottom. Schliemann put his handinto it. 

"See!" he cried. "Here turned the wooden hinge of the gate. "

He pointed to another large hole on the side of the casing. "Here thegatekeeper thrust in the beam to hold the gate shut. "

Just inside the gate he found the little room where the keeper hadstayed. He found also two little sentry boxes high up on the wall. Hereguards had stood and looked over the country, keeping watch againstenemies. From the gate the wall bent around the edge of the hilltop, shutting it in. In two places had been towers for watchmen. Inside thisgreat wall the king's palace and a few houses had been safe. Outside, other houses had been built. But in time of war all the people hadflocked into the fortress. The gate had been shut. The warriors hadstood on the wall to defend their city. 

But while some of Dr. Schliemann's men were digging at the gateway andthe wall, others were working outside the city. They were making a greathole, a hundred and thirteen feet square. They put the dirt into basketsand carried it to the little carts to be hauled away. And always Dr. Schliemann and his wife worked with them. From morning until dusk everyday they were there. It was August, and the sun was hot. The wind blewdust into their faces and made their eyes sore, and yet they were happy. Every day they found some little thing that excited them, --a terra cottagoblet, a broken piece of a bone lyre, a bronze ax, the ashes of anancient fire. 

At first Dr. Schliemann and his wife had fingered over every spadefulof dirt. There might be something precious in it. "Dig carefully, carefully!" Dr. Schliemann had said to the workmen. "Nothing must bebroken. Nothing must be lost. I must see everything. Perhaps a bit of abroken vase may tell a wonderful story. "

But during this work of many weeks he had taught his workmen how to dig. Now each man looked over every spadeful of earth himself, as he dug itup. He took out every scrap of stone or wood or pottery or metal andgave it to Schliemann or his wife. So the excavators had only to studythese things and to tell the men where to work. When a man struck somenew thing with his spade, he called out. Then the excavators ran tothat place and dug with their own hands. When anything was found, Dr. Schliemann sent it to the village. There it was kept in a house underguard. At night Dr. Schliemann drew plans of Mycenae. He read again oldGreek books about the city. As he read he studied his plans. He wroteand wrote. 

"As soon as possible, I must tell the world about what we find, " he saidto his wife. "People will love my book, because they love the stories ofHomer. "

There had been four months of hard work. A few precious things hadbeen uncovered, --a few of bronze and clay, a few of gold, some carvedgravestones. But were these the wonders Schliemann had promised? Wasthis to be all? They had dug down more than twenty feet. A few moredays, and they would probably reach the solid rock. There could benothing below that. November was rainy and disagreeable. The men had towork in the mud and wet. There was much disappointment on the hilltop. 

Then one day a spade grated on gravel. Once before that had happened, and they had found gold below. They called out to Dr. Schliemann. He andhis wife came quickly. Fire leaped into Schliemann's eyes. 

"Stop!" he said. "Now I will dig. Spades are too clumsy. "

So he and his wife dropped upon their knees in the mud. They dug withtheir knives. Carefully, bit by bit, they lifted the dirt. All at oncethere was a glint of gold. 

"Do not touch it!" cried Schliemann, "we must see it all at once. Whatwill it be?"

So they dug on. The men stood about watching. Every now and then theyshouted out, when some wonderful thing was uncovered, and Schliemannwould stop work and cry, "Did not I tell you? Is it not worth the work?"

At last they had lifted off all the earth and gravel. There was a greatmass of golden things--golden hairpins, and bracelets, and great goldenearrings like wreaths of yellow flowers, and necklaces with picturesof warriors embossed in the gold, and brooches in the shape of stags'heads. There were gold covers for buttons, and every one was molded intosome beautiful design of crest or circle or flower or cuttle-fish. 

And among them lay the bones of three persons. Across the forehead ofone was a diadem of gold, worked into designs of flowers. "See!" criedSchliemann, "these are queens. See their crowns, their scepters. "

For near the hands lay golden scepters, with crystal balls. 

And there were golden boxes with covers. Perhaps long ago, one of thesequeens had kept her jewels in them. There was a golden drinking cup withswimming fish on its sides. There were vases of bronze and silver andgold. There was a pile of gold and amber beads, lying where they hadfallen when the string had rotted away from the queenly neck. Andscattered all over the bodies and under them were thin flakes of gold inthe shapes of flowers, butterflies, grasshoppers, swans, eagles, leaves. It seemed as though a golden tree had shed its leaves into the grave. 

"Think! Think! Think!" cried Schliemann. "These delicate lovely thingshave lain buried here for three thousand years. You have pastured yoursheep above them. Once queens wore them and walked the streets we areuncovering. "

The news of the find spread like wildfire over the country. Thousands ofpeople came to visit the buried city. It was the most wonderful treasurethat had ever been found. The king of Athens sent soldiers to guard theplace. They camped on the acropolis. Their fires blazed there at night. Schliemann telegraphed to the king:

"With great joy I announce to your majesty that I have discoveredthe tombs which old stories say are the graves of Agamemnon and hisfollowers. I have found in them great treasures in the shape of ancientthings in pure gold. These treasures, alone, are enough to fill a greatmuseum. It will be the most wonderful collection in the world. Duringthe centuries to come it will draw visitors from all over the earth toGreece. I am working for the joy of the work, not for money. So I givethis treasure, with much happiness, to Greece. May it be the cornerstone of great good fortune for her. "

The work went on, and soon they found another grave, even morewonderful. Here lay five people--two of them women, three of themwarriors. Golden masks covered the faces of the men. Two wore goldenbreastplates. The gold clasp of the greave was still around one knee. Near one man lay a golden crown and a sceptre, and a sword belt of gold. There was a heap of stone arrowheads, and a pile of twenty bronze swordsand daggers. One had a picture of a lion hunt inlaid in gold. The woodenhandles of the swords and daggers were rotted away, but the gold nailsthat had fastened them lay there, and the gold dust that had gildedthem. Near the warriors' hands were drinking cups of heavy gold. Therewere seal rings with carved stones. There was the silver mask of anox head with golden horns, and the golden mask of a lion's head. Andscattered over everything were buttons, and ribbons, and leaves, andflowers of gold. 

Schliemann gazed at the swords with burning eyes. 

"The heroes of Troy have used these swords, " he said to his wife, "Perhaps Achilles himself has handled them. " He looked long at thegolden masks of kingly faces. 

"I believe that one of these masks covered the face of Agamemnon. Ibelieve I am kneeling at the side of the king of men, " he said in ahushed voice. 

Why were all these things there? Thousands of years before, when theirking had died, the people had grieved. 

"He is going to the land of the dead, " they had thought. "It is a dullplace. We will send gifts with him to cheer his heart. He must havelions to hunt and swords to kill them. He must have cattle to eat. Hemust have his golden cup for wine. "

So they had put these things into the grave, thinking that the kingcould take them with him. They even had put in food, for Schliemannfound oyster shells buried there. And they had thought that a king, evenin the land of the dead, must have servants to work for him. So they hadsacrificed slaves, and had sent them with their lord. Schliemann foundtheir bones above the grave. And besides the silver mask of the ox headthey had sent real cattle. After the king had been laid in his grave, they had killed oxen before the altar. Part they had burned in thesacred fire for the dead king, and part the people had eaten for thefuneral feast. These bones and ashes, too, Schliemann found. For a long, long time the people had not forgotten their dead chiefs. Every yearthey had sacrificed oxen to them. They had set up gravestones for them, and after a while they had heaped great mounds over their graves. 

That was a wonderful old world at Mycenae. The king's palace sat on ahill. It was not one building, but many--a great hall where the warriorsate, the women's large room where they worked, two houses of manybedrooms, treasure vaults, a bath, storehouses. Narrow passages led fromroom to room. Flat roofs of thatch and clay covered all. And there wereopen courts with porches about the sides. The floors of the court wereof tinted concrete. Sometimes they were inlaid with colored stones. Thewalls of the great hall had a painted frieze running about them. Andaround the whole palace went a thick stone wall. 

One such old palace has been uncovered at Tiryns near Mycenae. To-daya visitor can walk there through the house of an ancient king. Thewatchman is not there, so the stranger goes through the strong oldgateway. He stands in the courtyard, where the young men used to playgames. He steps on the very floor they trod. He sees the stone bases ofcolumns about him. The wooden pillars have rotted away, but he imaginesthem holding a porch roof, and he sees the men resting in the shade. Hewalks into the great room where the warriors feasted. He sees the hearthin the middle and imagines the fire blazing there. He looks into thebathroom with its sloping stone floor and its holes to drain off thewater. He imagines Greek maidens coming to the door with vases of wateron their heads. He walks through the long, winding passages and intoroom after room. "The children of those old days must have had troublefinding their way about in this big palace, " he thinks. 

Such was the palace of the king. Below it lay many poorer houses, insidethe walls and out. We can imagine men and women walking about this city. We raise the warriors from their graves. They carry their golden cups intheir hands. Their rings glisten on their fingers, and their braceletson their arms. Perhaps, instead of the golden armor, they wearbreastplates of bronze of the same shape, but these same swords hang attheir sides. We look at their golden masks and see their straight nosesand their short beards. We study the carving on their gravestones, andwe see their two-wheeled chariots and their prancing horses. We look atthe carved gems of their seal rings and see them fighting or killinglions. We look at their embossed drinking cups, and we see them catchingthe wild bulls in nets. We gaze at the great walls of Mycenae, andwonder what machines they had for lifting such heavy stones. We look ata certain silver vase, and see warriors fighting before this very wall. We see all the beautiful work in gold and silver and gems and ivory, andwe think, "Those men of old Mycenae were artists. "

PICTURES OF MYCENAE

THE CIRCLE OF ROYAL TOMBS. 

Digging within this circle, Dr. Schliemann found the famous treasureof golden gifts to the dead, which he gave to Greece. In the Museum atAthens you can see these wonderful things. (From a photograph in theMetropolitan Museum. )

DR. AND MRS. SCHLIEMANN AT WORK. 

This picture is taken from Dr. Schliemann's own book on his work. 

THE GATE OF LIONS. 

The stone over the gateway is immensely strong. But the wall builderswere afraid to pile too great a weight upon it. So they left atriangular space above it. You can see how they cut the big stones withslanting ends to do this. This triangle they filled with a thinnerstone carved with two lions. The lions' heads are gone. They were madeseparately, perhaps of bronze, and stood away from the stone looking outat people approaching the gate. 

INSIDE THE TREASURY OF ATREUS. 

No wonder the untaught modern Greeks thought that this was a giants'oven, where the giants baked their bread. But learned men have shownthat it was connected with a tomb, and that in this room the menof Mycenae worshipped their dead. It was very wonderfully made andbeautifully ornamented. The big stone over the doorway was nearly thirtyfeet long, and weighs a hundred and twenty tons. Men came to thisbeehive tomb in the old days of Mycenae, down a long passage with a highstone wall on either side. The doorway was decorated with many-coloredmarbles and beautiful bronze plates. The inside was ornamented, too, andthere was an altar in there. 

THE INTERIOR OF THE PALACE. 

From these ruins and relics, we know much about the art of theMycenaeans, something about their government, their trade, theirreligion, their home life, their amusements, and their ways of fighting, though they lived three thousand years ago. If a great modern cityshould be buried, and men should dig it up three thousand years later, what do you think they will say about us?

GOLD MASK. 

This mask was still on the face of the dead king. The artist tried tomake the mask look just as the great king himself had looked, but thiswas very hard to do. 

A COW'S HEAD OF SILVER. 

The king's people put into his grave this silver mask of an ox head withgolden horns. It was a symbol of the cattle sacrificed for the dead. There is a gold rosette between the eyes. The mouth, muzzle, eyes andears are gilded. In Homer's Iliad, which is the story of the Trojan war, Diomede says, "To thee will I sacrifice a yearling heifer, broad atbrow, unbroken, that never yet hath man led beneath the yoke. Her will Isacrifice to thee, and gild her horns with gold. "

THE WARRIOR VASE. 

This vase was made of clay and baked. Then the artist painted figures onit with colored earth. This was so long ago that men had not learned todraw very well, but we like the vase because the potter made it such abeautiful shape, and because we learn from it how the warriors of earlyMycenae dressed. Under their armor they wore short chitons with fringeat the bottom, and long sleeves, and they carried strangely shapedshields and short spears or long lances. Do you think those areknapsacks tied to the lances?

BRONZE HELMETS. 

These may have been worn by King Agamemnon, or by the Trojan warriors. They are now in the Metropolitan Museum in New York. 

GEM FROM MYCENAE. 

Early men made many pictures much like this--a pillar guarded by ananimal on each side. 

BRONZE DAGGERS. 

It would take a very skilfull man to-day, a man who was both goldsmithand artist, to make such daggers as men found at Mycenae. First theblade was made. Then the artist took a separate sheet of bronze for hisdesign. This sheet he enamelled, and on it he inlaid his design. On oneof these daggers we see five hunters fighting three lions. Two of thelions are running away. One lion is pouncing upon a hunter, but hisfriends are coming to help him. If you could turn this dagger over, youwould see a lion chasing five gazelles. The artist used pure gold forthe bodies of the hunters and the lions; he used electron, an alloy ofgold and silver, for the hunters' shields and their trousers; and hemade the men's hair, the lions' manes, and the rims of the shields, ofsome black substance. When the picture was finished on the plate, heset the plate into the blade, and riveted on the handle. On the smallerdagger we see three lions running. 

CARVED IVORY HEAD. 

It shows the kind of helmet used in Mycenae. Do you think the button atthe top may have had a socket for a horse hair plume?

BRONZE BROOCHES. 

These brooches were like modern safety pins, and were used to fasten thechlamys at the shoulder. The chlamys was a heavy woolen shawl, red orpurple. 

ONE OF THE CUPS FOUND AT VAPHIO. 

Some people say that these cups are the most wonderful things thathave been found, made by Mycenaean artists. Some people say that nogoldsmiths in the world since then, unless perhaps in Italy in thefifteenth century, have done such lovely work. The goldsmith took aplate of gold and hammered his design into it from the wrong side. Thenhe riveted the two ends together where the handle was to go, and linedthe cup with a smooth gold plate. One cup shows some hunters trying tocatch wild bulls with a net. One great bull is caught in the net. Oneis leaping clear over it. And a third bull is tossing a hunter on hishorns. On the other cup the artist shows some bulls quietly grazing inthe forest, while another one is being led away to sacrifice. 

The Vaphian cups are now in the National museum in Athens. They werefound in a "bee-hive" tomb at Vaphio, an ancient site in Greece, not farfrom Sparta. It is thought that they were not made there, but in Crete. 

PLATES. 

At Mycenae were found seven hundred and one large round plates of gold, decorated with cuttlefish, flowers, butterflies, and other designs. 

GOLD ORNAMENT. (Lower right hand corner. )

MYCENAE IN THE DISTANCE.