A cloud of black smoke rose from the boiling sand
"I don't like it," said Molly. "Please can't we go somewhere else? I don't like volcanoes."
"I don't like them either," said her mother. "We have seen enough of this one, I am sure."
So they went back quickly to the carriage and were soon on their way to Naples.
"Just think how hot the earth must be inside, if it can boil so near the surface!" exclaimed Molly.
"You know, ages and ages ago, our world was part of the red-hot sun," said their father. "When it broke away from the sun it began to whirl around very fast. Little by little it has grown cooler, until now there are only a few places on the surface that are still hot. These places are called volcanoes. Once in a while the hot mass inside bursts through and burns everything it touches."
"I am glad I have seen Solfatara," said May, "but I think I don't care to go so near another volcano—no, not even Vesuvius."
