The air had grown fresh and cold, for they were at an altitude approaching 4000 feet, and, but for the scenery, might have imagined themselves in Wales or Scotland.
The light railway ended at a small station, where there was the observatory and a hotel.

All round were masses of enormous cinders, and above, a grim sight, towered the immense cone of Vesuvius.

To scale the tremendous incline to the summit there was a funicular railway, to which our party now transferred themselves, sitting on seats raised one above another as in the gallery of a theater.

It was here that, if the events of the day are to be truly chronicled, we must record a scrimmage between Irene and her chum, Peachy.

The conductor of the light railway had gathered a bunch of rosemary _en route_, and he now approached the funicular and bestowed his offering upon Peachy, who happened to be sitting nearest to the end.