Irma in Italy Part 14

"You will need more than one flambeau to light your path to-night," said Uncle Jim, joining them, as they stood there reading a tablet with an interesting inscription. "Remember that we take an early train for Paestum."

"Paestum--what is Paestum?" rejoined Irma mockingly, as she hurried ahead of Uncle Jim up the long marble staircase that led to her room.

In the morning, however, long before their train reached Paestum, Irma knew all about it. The country through which they began to pa.s.s, soon after leaving Salerno, was not closely settled. Farther on there were great stretches of marshes where cattle roamed about. Marion was surprised to discover that the so-called buffaloes were quite unlike the bison, resembling large grayish oxen with a slight hump. They are the chief beasts of burden for the country people of this region. Uncle Jim explained that the whole country here was malarious. It had a bad reputation even in the time of Augustus, and on this account the name of ancient Poseidonia had been changed to "Pesto," and if you doubt me, you may look on the map. There, indeed, Irma did find "Pesto" instead of the more cla.s.sic name, yet she continued to doubt Uncle Jim's account of its origin--"Paestum" was evidently from "Poseidonia."

CHAPTER VIII

PAESTUM AND POMPEII

"There is said to be one vehicle in Paestum," remarked Uncle Jim, as they reached the little station, "and as we are not the only pa.s.sengers on this train we might as well make up our minds in advance whether we shall fight for it or walk."

"Walk," was the unanimous response, and after checking their luggage they started up a long, dusty road. Some distance from the station an arch spanned the roadway. "It must have been part of an old town wall,"

said Marion, and at the same moment a tall, short-skirted woman came toward them, carrying a large stone water jar on her head. In an instant Irma had focussed her camera, aiming it just as the woman was in the center of the arch.

"She doesn't seem to object," murmured Aunt Caroline. The woman was now close to them, and as she pa.s.sed them she did not even deign to smile or to look at them directly.

"The Temples! The Temples!" A few minutes later Irma gave an exclamation of delight.

"How beautiful--with the view of the sea beyond," added Aunt Caroline.

Then all stood still. Before them, with a background of blue sea and bluer sky, rose the two great temples, the largest of the three edifices that are now practically the sole remains of a once great city--Poseidonia--founded six hundred years before Christ, by colonists from Sybaris in Greece.

"Outside of Athens, there are no finer temples left standing in the world!" said Uncle Jim.

"Until I read it in my guidebook to-day, I thought one had to go to Greece to see Greek temples," added Irma.

"Oh, there are several in Sicily," rejoined Marion, in what Irma to herself called his "high and mighty tone," a tone that always made her feel that he despised her lack of knowledge.

"Yes," said Aunt Caroline, "but for those of us who are not going now to Greece or Sicily, these are worth printing on our memories. I dare say, Marion, with your exactness, you would like to walk around them and measure them to see whether they are what they are represented to be.

Irma and I will content ourselves with general impressions."

"I might verify the fact that the Temple of Neptune is one hundred and ninety-six feet long and seventy-nine feet wide, but it would be harder for me to prove without a ladder that each of the thirty-six columns is twenty-eight feet high," responded Marion good naturedly.

"No, no," cried Aunt Caroline, "no such uninteresting facts! All I wish to remember is the soft, mellow brown of the whole structure and its n.o.ble proportions."

Then, looking to the slightly smaller structure at the left, she added, "The Basilica is less complete and less imposing. It has something of the attractiveness of a younger sister."

"I don't like its color as well, but I suppose both are faded."

"Undoubtedly, though originally they were both covered with stucco to imitate marble; the pediment was adorned with sculptures, and the temple held other works of art."

They were now crossing the rough field between them and the Temple of Neptune. Some of those who had come with them in the train were wandering about the interior--if a roofless s.p.a.ce without walls may be called an interior--and a larger group had gone with the uniformed guide toward the more distant Temple of Ceres.

"That pinkish flower over there must be asphodel," said Uncle Jim. "Now don't rush to gather it, Irma. It would be far wiser to sit here and test the luncheon the padrone provided for us. Here is a good place, and Marion will open the box."

As Uncle Jim made room at the base of a great Doric column, Irma gave a little scream.

"Oh, it's only a little lizard--no, two little lizards, and you can't blame them for showing alarm at a party of American invaders. Why, even Marion doesn't object to them."

A deep flush rose on Marion's cheek. Irma was looking at him as Uncle Jim spoke, and saw that he pressed his lips tightly, as if to suppress an angry reply.

"Before he opens the box," continued Uncle Jim, whose spirits were rising, "I can tell exactly what that pasteboard receptacle contains,--two hard-boiled eggs for each of us, a fine a.s.sortment of chicken legs and wings, some b.u.t.ter, some salt, several unb.u.t.tered rolls almost too hard to eat, and an orange apiece."

"You must have prepared the menu yourself," said Irma, laughing; "for things are absolutely what you said, except," and she opened a little package, "here is a piece of cheese."

"Oh, yes, I forgot the cheese. But I have opened too many Italian luncheon boxes not to know what to expect, and in ten years they haven't changed."

"_Muore di fame, muore di fame_," whined a small voice in their ears.

Looking about, Irma saw a girl of twelve or fourteen, with a shawl over her head, carrying her hand to her mouth in the well-known gesture of hunger.

"_Muore di fame_ (I am dying of hunger)," she repeated, standing in front of the four picnickers, while at the same time she turned her head from side to side as if fearing some one's approach.

"It is the _custode_," exclaimed Uncle Jim; "begging here on Government property is probably against the rules, and she fears he will return before we have given her all our luncheon."

"No, no," he cried, but the girl reached out her hand as if to s.n.a.t.c.h.

"Oh, give her something," cried Marion, "or at least I will; the poor thing may be starving."

"_Muore di fame, muore di fame_," repeated the girl, catching the sympathetic note in his voice. Then, just as he had given her a roll and a chicken leg she took to her heels, disappearing over a hedge of bushes between the temple enclosure and a partly ploughed field that stretched between them and the sea.

A moment later the _custode_ came around the corner of the temple, thus explaining the girl's sudden flight. At the same time two dogs appeared, sniffing for their share of the luncheon. More polite than the girl, however, when told to go away, they went off some distance, sitting on their haunches and still eyeing the party hungrily.

It was now Irma's turn to be sympathetic.

"That little one makes me think of Nap, and I just can't help giving him a wing with something on it."

"Just wait until we have finished."

Obedient to this suggestion, Irma waited, and at last there was a good heap of bones as well as some sc.r.a.ps of bread on which the two little creatures fell greedily.

Later, making her way with difficulty over the brambles, Irma reached the gra.s.s beyond the strip of ploughed land. She carried a little package containing rolls, an orange or two, and a little chicken. She had gone ahead of the others to get a photograph from this point of view. She had already taken nearer views of portions of the columns and base with Aunt Caroline posed for comparative size, looking a veritable pigmy.

The temples, with the background of hills, were less imposing from the other side. The eye could not help seeing not only the temple, but a lot of ugly little houses in the far background near the station.

"_Muore di fame, muore di fame_," cried two voices, one after the other. The girl with the shawl had crept up behind Irma, and a larger girl stood beside her. The first girl was a pitiable object, yet Irma knew that she had lately had something to keep her from starvation. The other was fairly well dressed, and for her Irma felt no sympathy. In fact the two had a manner so impertinent that she took no notice of the oft-repeated monotonous "_Muore di fame_."

But she cast anxious glances toward the temples. Why did her uncle and aunt delay coming! Then she caught a glimpse of them just entering the Basilica. One of her tormentors now jerked her skirt, the other shook her hand in her face.

Irma waved them back, crying, "_Andate, andate_" (go away, go away), in Aunt Caroline's most effective tone.

The girls grew bolder and dashed at Irma as if to take both her camera and her package. Yet Irma, though frightened, was determined not to surrender either.

At last, when she attempted to call for help, she could not make a sound loud enough to be heard by her uncle or aunt. Of course she had not stood still all this time, but with one girl clutching her dress she could not move fast, especially as she was now in the ploughed ground, into which her feet sank deeper with every step. There was no occasion to fear, as the girls could accomplish no very desperate deed before help came, but Irma's spirit was up, and her nerves irritated by the constant "_Muore di fame_." So she held the package of food more closely than the camera, and the older girl, watching her chance, rushed off with it, while the other, making a dash at Irma's head, tore off her hat.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "WITH ONE GIRL CLUTCHING HER DRESS, SHE COULD NOT MOVE FAST." (_Page 132._)]