The Story of Glass | Page 7

men and women can live in places where they talk those dreadful
languages and use that queer money when they might come over here
to Boston----"
"That's right, Hannah," agreed Uncle Bob, playfully urging her on.
"And all that strange weather! Why, I read only the other day that in

Italy they just have summer all the year round. So foolish! They never
get any snow at all--think of that! It is such a slack and lazy way to do
always to be wearing one set of things and never getting out any winter
flannels. I shouldn't know where I was if I didn't chalk off the seasons
by my house cleaning, preserving, getting out the furs, and putting
them away. I just know those Italians live without any system. How
could they be expected to have any when it's summer all the time?"
She sniffed scornfully.
In fact Hannah sniffed a good many times before the great ship which
was carrying them to Naples docked beneath the shadow of Vesuvius.
The staterooms she termed little coops, and the berths nothing more nor
less than shelves.
"When I go to bed, Mr. Bob, I feel exactly as if I was a sheet put away
in the linen closet."
Uncle Bob and Jean both laughed. Hannah kept them royally
entertained.
"As for these clocks that strike every hour but the right one--I've
nothing to say," she went on. "If the captain prefers to ring two when
he means nine, well and good. He runs the ship and it is his lookout,
although I will say it is hard on the rest of us. He explains that it has
something to do with the watch--whose watch I don't know; his own, I
suppose. Evidently he has some queer way of telling time, some theory
he is free to work out when he is here in the middle of the ocean away
from land. Be glad, Jean, that you learned to tell time properly, and that
you live with people who are content to use the old method and do not
set themselves up to invent a system that is a puzzle to every one but
themselves."
Thus Hannah measured every new experience, applying to it the
Beacon Hill standard. If it conformed to what was done in Boston it
was quite correct, but if it varied in the least it was condemned as
"ridiculous."

To Jean, on the contrary, the voyage was one of unending delight. She
proved herself an excellent sailor, and was never tired of playing
shuffle-board on the deck or pacing to and fro with Uncle Bob in the
fresh breeze. And when at last Gibraltar was reached and she actually
beheld the coasts of Spain, Africa and Italy, her wonder grew until she
said she had to pinch herself to be sure she was alive and not dreaming.
It was a journey of marvels.
"I feel exactly as if I had gone down the rabbit hole with Alice," she
exclaimed, squeezing Uncle Bob's arm as they were disembarking at
Naples.
Uncle Bob was in such a hurry to reach Florence that the travelers did
not stay long in Naples--only long enough to visit the famous
Aquarium with its myriad of strange sea creatures, and to take a flying
glimpse of the Museum. It was at the latter place that Jean saw the
celebrated Naples Vase which, Uncle Bob told her, was found over a
hundred years ago in a tomb in Pompeii.
"It probably was made by very skilful Grecian workmen about the year
70 A. D. Think how wonderful it is that there were artists living many
thousands of years ago who knew how to make such a beautiful thing.
Look closely at it, Jean, for it is one of the art treasures of the world."
Jean looked.
The vase, scarcely more than a foot in height, was of dark blue glass,
and had upon it in white a design of delicate Grecian figures.
"It was first made with a coating of white opaque glass entirely over the
blue," Uncle Bob explained. "Then the artist with extreme care and
some sharp instrument cut this beautiful picture of the harvest gatherers.
Notice, too, how the pattern is repeated on the handles. It is a pity the
base or foot of the vase is missing; it was probably of gold and was
doubtless stolen at some time. There is now made in England a kind of
pottery called Wedgwood, which has much this same effect although,
of course, it is far less perfectly fashioned."

"I'm glad I do not have this thing to dust," Hannah observed grimly.
"Well you may be, Hannah," Uncle Bob retorted, "for the vase is worth
thousands of dollars. There are in the world several very famous glass