The hackman who was to take us to the buried city might have been useful, but certainly he was not ornamental. He was covered with dust, so that he resembled a walking ash-heap; and as for washing, I do not think he had ever experienced its terrors. Judging by the odor which arose from his skin, he had been put through some embalming process, in which garlic was the preservative substance. He resembled a sponge which has been dipped in garlic water, and kept without squeezing. His clothing was of all sizes except his own. His trousers were made for a man twice as large as he; and his coat for one of about half his dimensions. His face was as prepossessing as a basket of old bottles; and as for his manners, he did not appear to have any to boast of. I spoke to him in French, which he pretended to understand, but could not comprehend. He answered in a mingled _patois_ of French and Italian, in which there was no French to speak of, and very little Italian. I forget the exact sum we agreed to pay, but think it was altogether about twenty-five francs. I may as well explain here, that on our way back we invented a new plan for paying him, and at the same time avoiding trouble. When we neared the hotel on our return, I counted out the money in francs and half francs, and threw in a few copper coins by way of adding to the confusion. With the proper amount in my hand, I stepped from the carriage, and waited until my three companions were a dozen yards away; then I dropped the money into the hands of the driver, and started at a rapid walk to overtake my friends. Before he had finished counting the money we were inside of the hotel. As we walked up stairs, I heard a volley of Neapolitan and French oaths following us into the building, and rolling through the hall like a small cloud of smoke. We started from Naples in the direction of Vesuvius, passing through several villages on our road to Pompeii. The road was excellent, being paved or macadamized the entire distance, and ornamented with houses and beggars in about equal proportions. [Sidenote: PERTINACIOUS BEGGARS.] The beggars deserve great credit for the study they have devoted to the perfection of their art. Sores are cultivated as a handsome man would cultivate his mustache; and as for a withered leg, it is worth a fortune to its possessor. Every time our carriage halted, the beggars surrounded it, as flies in July surround a lump of sugar, and pretty nearly for the same reason, as they wanted something on which to exist. They accosted us in two or three languages, Italian of course predominating. We told them, in French, in English, and in German, to go away, and that we would give them nothing; but they stuck to us with the most unruffled pertinacity. They had heard all that before, and knew that if they were adhesive, they had a good prospect of extracting something. I tried a new plan on them, and found that it worked well.