Aunt Jane's Nieces Abroad
"
Next morning all the sky was thick with smoke, and the sun was hidden.
The waters turned gray, too, and as they approached the Italian coast
the gloom perceptibly increased. A feeling of uneasiness seemed to
pervade the ship, and even the captain had so many things to consider
that he had no time to converse with his little friend.
Signor Valdi forsook his deck chair for the first time and stood at the
rail which overlooked the steerage with his eyes glued to the grim skies
ahead. When Uncle John asked him what he saw he answered, eagerly:
"Death and destruction, and a loss of millions of lira to the bankrupt
government. I know; for I have studied Etna for years, and Vesuvio is a
second cousin to Etna."
"Hm," said Uncle John. "You seem pleased with the idea of an eruption."
The thin faced man threw a shrewd look from his dark eyes and smiled.
Uncle John frowned at the look and stumped away. He was not at all easy
in his own mind. He had brought three nieces for a holiday to this
foreign shore, and here at the outset they were confronted by an
intangible danger that was more fearful because it was not understood.
It was enough to make his round face serious, although he had so strong
an objection to unnecessary worry.
Afternoon tea was served on deck amidst an unusual quiet. People soberly
canvassed the situation and remarked upon the fact that the darkness
increased visibly as they neared the Bay of Naples. Beth couldn't drink
her tea, for tiny black atoms fell through the air and floated upon the
surface of the liquid. Louise retired to her stateroom with a headache,
and found her white serge gown peppered with particles of lava dust
which had fallen from the skies.
The pilot guided the ship cautiously past Capri and into the bay. The
air was now black with volcanic dross and a gloom as of midnight
surrounded them on every side. The shore, the mountain and the water of
the bay itself were alike invisible.
CHAPTER V
VESUVIUS RAMPANT
It was Saturday night, the seventh day of April, nineteen hundred and
six--a night never to be forgotten by those aboard the ship; a night
which has its place in history.
- Page:
- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- 8
- 9
- 10
- 11
- 12
- 13
- 14
- 15
- 16
- 17
- 18
- 19
- 20
- 21
- 22
- 23
- 24
- 25
- 26
- 27
- 28
- 29
- 30
- 31
- 32
- 33
- 34
- 35
- 36
- 37
- 38
- 39
- 40
- 41
- 42
- 43
- 44
- 45
- 46
- 47
- 48
- 49
- 50
- 51
- 52
- 53
- 54
- 55
- 56
- 57
- 58
- 59
- 60
- 61
- 62
- 63
- 64
- 65
- 66
- 67
- 68
- 69
- 70
- 71
- 72
- 73
- 74
- 75
- 76
- 77
- 78
- 79
- 80
- 81
- 82
- 83
- 84
- 85
- 86
- 87
- 88
- 89
- 90
- 91
- 92
- 93
- 94
- 95
- 96
- 97
- 98
- 99
- 100
- 101
- 102
- 103
- 104
- 105
- 106
- 107
- 108
- 109
- 110
- 111
- 112
- 113
- 114
- 115
- 116
- 117
- 118
- 119
- 120
- 121
- 122
- 123
- 124
- 125
- 126
- 127
- 128
- 129
- 130
- 131
- 132
- 133
- 134
- 135
- 136
- 137
- 138
- 139
- 140
- 141
- 142
- 143
- 144
- 145
- 146
- 147
- 148
- 149
- 150
- 151
- 152
- 153
- 154
- 155
- 156
- 157
In a village there lived two men who had the self-same name. Both were named Claus. But one of them owned four horses, and the other owned only one horse; so to distinguish between them people called the man who had four horses Big Claus, and the man who had only one horse Little Claus. Now I'll tell you what happened to these two, for this is a true story.
© 2013-2019 FairyTales
Almost all texts on this website are from the Public Domain.