which has taken a greedy toll of human life for many years; the last time in 1906.
Thursday, May 1.—I have seen many prettier
sights than the far-famed Bay of Naples. Many people
say a look at the bay caused them to forget the
frets and worries of life, but I had no such feeling.
We arrived early in the morning, when the town was
partly hidden in mists, but later I saw the bay in bright
sunshine, from several points of advantage, but it did
not greatly impress me. The Bay of Naples is so
large that it is not a harbor, therefore a breakwater
has been constructed, and behind this our ship anchored,
in company with a good many others. . . .
I have spoken elsewhere of English becoming the universal
language. This morning I heard the Italian
pilot telling the captain of the ship a piece of war news.
The pilot talked broken English. A Frenchman, a
Portuguese, a Belgian and a Hollander gathered to
hear the war news, and they all understood English. . . .
After the usual medical inspection, which always
seems ineffective and useless in the first cabin,
the passengers were allowed to land. We went to the
Hotel Vesuve, where I had been before, and were given
two excellent rooms overlooking the bay. In front of
the hotel was a street, and then the sea, and from my
window I watched the fishermen at work; they were
so close that I could have hailed them, and asked what
sort of fish they were taking out of the nets. Directly
in front of our windows was an old castle and fort, and
