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She has just come from school and her stockings to
“Oh, what an unspeakable bore !” Is there no one to help her: no cousin-no friend?
“ Hark! sure there's a knock at the door!"
She has just come from school—and she must go and walk
On the grand promenade for an hour; Or call on her milliner, where she must talk
About trimming her cap with a flower.
She has just come from school—and she thinks it so mean Of money
and clothes to take care; It may do for the poor to keep tidy and clean,
But what does it matter to her?
She has just come from school—and the bills are all paid
Forty pounds from the last quarter-day; But has it e'er entered her light little head
That she has her parents to pay ?
She has just come from school-and their fond hopes
On the comfort she brings to their home. She has just come from school-and she must not forget
What she owes them for long years to come.
To see a burning mountain, was, in the days of my childhood, one of the highest objects of my desire; and I confess that, as years passed on, this desire remained almost as strong as To enjoy then, at last, the near accomplishment of my wish, produced a state of excited feeling, which the young reader may perhaps imagine, better than I can describe.
For a whole day's journey before reaching Naples, I imagined every mountain I saw in that direction to be Vesuvius; and every cloud which settled upon the hills, to be the smoke issuing from its crater. What then was my disappointment, as we drew nearer to the scene of interest, to find these mountain - peaks one after another left behind, and the shades of evening closing in, without the slightest appearance of a burning mountain either before or behind us on the right hand or the left. It was true we were approaching the city, as the busy crowds perpetually coming and going in the vicinity of Naples sufficiently indicate; but the great volcano, with its smoke, and fire, and its terrible rumblings, which I had so often listened for during the
day—where was it ? Nowhere to be seen, or heard; and we entered the crowded suburbs of Naples, without any signs of its existence.
To describe the city of Naples would require a whole chapter, or more; and, therefore, we will leave for the present that most amusing city in the world ; and, returning to the volcano, state what seems scarcely to be believed, that such was the impression produced by the strange and novel scenes we saw in passing slowly, with tired horses, along the almost endless streets, narrow, and filled with life and business, and fun of almost every description, that I actually forgot Vesuvius until the next morning, when, on first walking out along the shore, one of our party exclaimed—“There it is !”
And there it certainly was — a fine blue mountain, standing alone, about six miles from the city, with two great peaks, from one of which a distinct stream of white smoke was pouring out, curling for a short distance down the side of the mountain, and then mixing with a long range of fleecy clouds, which rested upon the hills on the southern side of the bay.
“ Yes! there it is !” we repeated one to another, for it often happens, when there is most to see, or hear, there is the least to talk about; and so we all stood and gazed without saying whether we were disappointed or not. For my own part, I believe I was a little disappointed, for I had wished for a great deal more smoke, and flame,