afterwards from them in tassels of slag, and yet, by the very same means,
the steam in the branches will prevent the liquid fire burning them off,
or doing anything but just scorch the bark.

But I can tell you a more curious story still. The lava stream, you must
know, is continually sending out little jets of gas and steam: some of it
it may have brought up from the very inside of the earth; most of it, I
suspect, comes from the damp herbage and damp soil over which it runs. Be
that as it may, a lava stream out of Mount Etna, in Sicily, came once
down straight upon the town of Catania. Everybody thought that the town
would be swallowed up; and the poor people there (who knew no better)
began to pray to St. Agatha--a famous saint, who, they say, was martyred
there ages ago--and who, they fancy, has power in heaven to save them
from the lava stream. And really what happened was enough to make
ignorant people, such as they were, think that St. Agatha had saved them.
The lava stream came straight down upon the town wall. Another foot, and
it would have touched it, and have begun shoving it down with a force
compared with which all the battering-rams that you ever read of in
ancient histories would be child's toys. But lo and behold! when the
lava stream got within a few inches of the wall it stopped, and began to
rear itself upright and build itself into a wall beside the wall. It
rose and rose, till I believe in one place it overtopped the wall and
began to curl over in a crest. All expected that it would fall over into
the town at last: but no, there it stopped, and cooled, and hardened, and
left the town unhurt. All the inhabitants said, of course, that St.
Agatha had done it: but learned men found out that, as usual Madam How
had done it, by making it do itself. The lava was so full of gas, which
was continually blowing out in little jets, that when it reached the
wall, it actually blew itself back from the wall; and, as the wall was
luckily strong enough not to be blown down, the lava kept blowing itself