streets, in the houses. And sometimes the excavators have found still
stranger, sadder things. Often as a man has been digging in the
hard-packed ashes, his spade has struck into a hole. Then he has called
the chief excavator.

"Let us see what it is," the excavator has said, "Perhaps it will be
something interesting."

So they have mixed plaster and poured it into the hole. They have given
it a little time to harden and then have dug away the ashes from around
it. In that way they have made a plaster cast just the shape of the
hole. And several times when they have uncovered their cast they have
found it to be the form of a man or woman or child. Perhaps the person
had been hurrying through the street and had stumbled and fallen. The
gases had choked him, the ashes had slowly covered him. Under the
moistening rain and the pressure of all the hundreds of years the ashes
had hardened almost to stone. Meantime the body had decayed and had sunk
down into a handful of dust. But the hardened ashes still stood firm
around the space where the body had been. When this hole was filled with
plaster, the cast took just the form of the one who had been buried
there so long ago--the folds of his clothes, the ring on his finger, the
girl's knot of hair, the negro slave's woolly head. So we can really
look upon the faces of some of the ancient people of Pompeii. And in
another way we can learn the names of many of them.

One of the streets that leads out from the wall is called the "Street of
Tombs." It is the ancient burying ground. You will walk along the paved
street between rows of monuments. Some will be like great square altars
of marble beautifully carved. Some will be tall platforms with steps
leading up. There will be marble benches where you may sit and think of