Lamoille newsdealer. [volume] (Hyde Park, Vt.) 1860-1877, 1871-10-18
The Ruins Of Pompeli.

The Ruins Of Pompeli.
There is a difficulty in einbodying
Pompeii 10 the minds eve Of a reader.
says a writer. lou walk its streets.
notice the houses ON either hand, see the
open doors, mark byways and alleys.
enter the Exchange, look down long ave.
nues 10 the arched gateways, thread
winding lanes, tramp over Tagged side
walks, scrutinize the curbs fretted by
carriage wheels, read the signs beside
and above the entrances 10 shops and
stores, rest in the rooms and mount the
stairs and penetrate the chambers Of the
dwellings, and vet fail to carry away the
night words to convey your impressions
There is nothing grand. The place is
anything but beautiful. A ruined castle
possesses a hundredfold greater attrac-
tions. Tear the covers from n book, lift
the crust from a pie, or bereave bureau
of its drawers, and you have homely
but exact idea of the impression your
visit has left upon your mind as you
drive back to Naples. And yet you have
been in actual contact with the life of the
Pompeiians, and know what they were
doing eighteen hundred and one years
ago, when the fatal hour struck.
We took a random walk through the
streets recently unearthed. The south
ern sun was shining in at open doors and
through broken roofs. In the dwellings
everything was pitilessly bright The
secrets of every chamber were revealed.
The carriage-road between the two foot
paths is OF smooth flags, irregular in
shape, deity fitted, like stones in a
church tower. Modern Florence is so
paved. We turn a corner and are startled
by the figure of dead man lying inside
a doorway. He lies as he fell. His atti.
tude is preserved by process recently
adopted. In the hurry of the storm he
had sought refuge in a porch. But he
never crossed its threshold again, and
you can see how death grappled with
him there and threw him struggling and
fighting for life. In the bakers shop is
the arched oven, with fireplace and fues,
all perfect for baking bread to-day.
Mills for grinding-cones of grit stone,
convex and concave, turned capstain-
fashion by a -bar--stand in the shop.
In his neighbor's, the fuller's shop, are
the charges for work done chalked upon
the walls. "There they are, said our
guide. "Your excellencies can doubt
less read Latin. But the poor man was
never paid" A more pretentious trades
man was the leather-cutter, not far off.
Within was the table gashed with knife
marks, upon which the man had cut his
last strands. He had once been a soldier
of the Ninth Cohort, and so announced
under his name.
There was in Pompeii n glut ofspublic-
houses, sometimes four or five i'll sin-
gle street. We stopped at an inn, on
the wall of which was painted an ele-
phant, and beneath it the latin words,
words, which, translated, were: "Sit-
tins has established the Elephant Oste-
ria Trichnium, with three beds. Every
comfort" Inside are the Trichnium or
dining-room, the dinner-table, and three
diyans for convives It must have been
a common place in its best days, and as
for its comfort, Pompeiians, in common
with modern Neapolitains, were appar-
entity not exacting. The house of Siri-
Gus, lower down the street is curious.
His name is written up in two places
in chamber and over the front door.
On his threshold is cut ''Salve Lucrum. Z"
The interior is well appointed, with a
nice garden in the rear, and trellises,
rockeries and decorations suggestive of
woman's handiwork Skeletons of a
little dog, tortoises and two goats, indi'
cate that pet animals We're about. The
windows and doors are bordered with
graceful designs the walls of the sleep
ing apartments are covered with trace
ries of flowers, festoons, birds dolphins
and bachantes, and the choice domicile
is decorated with zones of rich colors,
now called Raphaelesque., Who Siricus
was not even M. Fiorreli can make APP
parent. Turning into another street,
the visitor comes upon the bagnios.
They are of three distinct classes, two of
which, are happily unknown to the
modern world. Each class is designa-
ted by an emblem carved in stone,
placed beside the door, In refinement
of immortality, Pompeii was miniature
Corinth. From the common halls, where
courtesans danced with gladiators, to the
sumptuous boudoirs that invited aristo-
cratic matrons, or the luxurious cabinets
frequented only by the patrician order,
profigate life is pictured in oolorings
and shadings upon every floor and wall.
Indelicate verses are scribbled on the
doors. Vile epigrams stared the I'M
blushing habitues from every corner.
And double enteadres, the wit of which is
smothered in nastiness, hide ashamed
behind cornices and fretwork. Evi-
IDENTIFY of the dwellers in the doomed
city, it was equally true as in Rome, that
"God gave them up unto vile affections. u
A dyer's shop, in the same infamous
street, is remarkable only for its window.
shutters. They were closed, being Of
wood, which has mouldered away, their
exact impress remains in the hardened
ashes They were nine in number. The
edge of each overlapped its fellow and
slid into groove. In the central shut
ter smal door was made, closed by
lock and key. This was for the dyer to
let himself in and out after he had
closed the doors. He had done the lat
ter on the fatal day, too late, alas, to
escape, and so ended his life among his
dye-woods and blacking-powders.