“This iron bedstead they do fetch
To try our hopes upon.
If we’re too short we must be stretched,
Cut off if we’re too long.”
When they laid out a man on this couch, if its length corresponded with his, he was immediately removed before he had time to go to sleep. If he was short, both in money and in stature, they elongated him until he could touch headboard and footboard at the same time; and if he was a tall fellow, they shortened him at the feet with a large pair of shears that were kept for the purpose. When a hundred men had been measured on this bed and placed in a row, they were found to be of the same elevation. A good many of them died soon afterwards, but people were numerous in those days, and the dead ones were not missed by those who didn’t know anything about them.
Down in the kitchen, Nero had a gridiron resembling a garden gate, or a section of an iron fence. He had so many cooks that all of them could not be constantly employed, and so he busied himself to devise ways to employ them. He found that the gridiron was just the thing, and when his cooks were idle he used to take one of his lodgers down stairs and promise him a good roast. The lodger would be thinking of a nice turkey or a leg of mutton when Nero said “roast” to him, and as the private table was not very good, he was always ready to go below. When they got down stairs Nero would tip the wink to the cooks, who would seize the lodger and tie him on the gridiron. They then built a fire under him, and Nero carried on the joke by standing alongside with a big ladle and pouring hot oil over his guest. When he was done brown, and turned over and done on the other side, they would let him off to enjoy the fun of seeing the sell played on the next man. No doubt he would have enjoyed it had he not been dead long before they got through with him.
THE TOMB OF VIRGIL.
When we returned to Naples, we went by another route than the one we had taken in the morning. At one place our way led through a tunnel cut into the solid earth, and said to be more than two thousand years old. It has worn down greatly since it was first opened; the marks of the axles of carts and wagons are visible along its sides ten or twelve feet above the present floor. It is lighted by torches placed at regular intervals along the walls, and is an important thoroughfare for people going between Naples and certain villages and towns to the north of it. At the end nearest to Naples we were taken to what is supposed to be the Tomb of Virgil, though its authenticity is considerably in doubt. It certainly is not much of a tomb, and many a man not half so talented or famous as Virgil has been lodged after death in far more beautiful quarters than these.
The peculiar nature of the earth composing the hills around Naples has greatly facilitated the construction of tunnels and caves. It is almost identical with that of the bluffs of Vicksburg—easy to cut, and at the same time sufficiently firm to prevent falling in. No roofing or arching of any kind is needed, and the tools ordinarily used in excavations are all that are required. Consequently every man who has a hill on his farm can construct a spacious wine cellar at little expense; and if he has a friendly neighbor over the hill, they can easily cut their way through, and save the trouble of climbing when they want to visit each other.
I heard of Neapolitan thieves who sometimes find out a well-stored wine cellar in the side of a small hill, and carefully observe its position. Then they erect a small house on the other side, and begin a small tunnel. They cart the dirt away at night, and after a month or so enter the cellar and steal enough wine to pay them handsomely for their trouble.